Tag: 1920s

A Slow and Secret Poison by Carmella Lowkis

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It’s 1925 and Vee Morgan is on her way to Harfold Manor in Wiltshire to take up the position of gardener. She knows she’s lucky to get the job; although she loves being outdoors and was a Land Girl on a farm during the war, she has no horticultural qualifications and no references, not to mention that women gardeners are not at all common and not exactly in high demand. After arriving at her new workplace, however, she learns that none of the local men wanted the job and are reluctant to come anywhere near Harfold Manor and its strange inhabitant, Lady Arabella Lascy.

Arabella, alone in the world apart from her estate manager and cousin, Maurice Reacher, believes she and her family have been cursed. First her parents died, then all four of her brothers, each within three years of the one before, leaving only Arabella to inherit the family estate. Now another three years have passed and Arabella is convinced that she will be the next victim. But are the Lascys really under a curse or is there a more human explanation for what has been happening?

A Slow and Secret Poison is the second novel by Carmella Lowkis; I had mixed feelings about her first, Spitting Gold, a retelling of a Charles Perrault fairy tale, but I found this one more enjoyable. Vee interested me from the beginning – she’s a very flawed heroine, as we discover as the story unfolds and secrets from her past come to light – but I liked her as a character and I thought her practical, no-nonsense personality provided a good counterpart to the reclusive, fanciful Arabella. I was intrigued to learn from the author’s note at the end of the book that the character of Arabella was inspired by Stephen Tennant, one of the Bright Young Things of the 1920s.

The book has a lot of Gothic elements: the crumbling old house and its eccentric owner, the supposed Lascy family curse, sightings of a mythical hare and, of course, the poisonings hinted at in the title. I was reminded very much of Laura Purcell’s books, although this one isn’t as dark as those. I did find some of the secrets and twists quite easy to predict and some parts of the plot felt a little bit implausible (particularly regarding property ownership, which becomes an important part of the story later on), but otherwise it was a quick, entertaining read.

Thanks to Doubleday for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

The Bishop Murder Case by S.S. Van Dine

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S.S. Van Dine was a pseudonym used by the American crime writer and art critic Willard Huntington Wright, most famous for his series of mysteries starring the fictional detective Philo Vance. Despite being very successful in the 1920s and 30s, he doesn’t seem as well known today as other Golden Age authors, but I’ve come across references to him in several of the Japanese detective novels I’ve read recently and have been curious about his work. Now that I’ve read one of his books, I can see why he was so popular in Japan: it seems that his books are ‘puzzle mysteries’ and inspired the Japanese honkaku style.

The Bishop Murder Case was published in 1929 and is the fourth book in the Philo Vance series. It’s definitely not necessary to have read any of the previous books first (they are mentioned a few times but there are no spoilers). The book is set in Manhattan and gets off to a promising start, with the first murder happening almost immediately. The victim, Joseph Cochrane Robin, has been shot dead with a bow and arrow, and the name of the main suspect is Sperling – which just happens to be the German word for sparrow. If you know your nursery rhymes you’ll remember the line: “Who killed Cock Robin? I, said the Sparrow, with my bow and arrow, I killed Cock Robin.” Coincidence? Philo Vance doesn’t think so and he’s proved right when several newspapers receive a note explaining the nursery rhyme reference, signed only as ‘The Bishop’.

As more deaths follow, all staged to look like nursery rhymes, New York’s District Attorney, John Markham, asks Vance to use his experience of human nature and his knowledge of literature and logic to help solve the mystery. With the murders all taking place in one small area of the city, Vance is convinced the culprit is someone from or connected with the household of Professor Dillard, but can he correctly identify the Bishop before the killing spree continues?

I loved the premise of this book – the nursery rhyme idea was fun and would later be used by Agatha Christie and other authors – but once Vance and Markham began their investigations I quickly discovered that this was going to be the sort of detective novel I tend to struggle with. There’s a lot of focus on times, distances and alibis and lots of discussions of mathematics, physics, psychology and chess, with things that interest me more like character development and motives pushed into the background. I found Vance himself very annoying, a pretentious, foppish know-it-all, similar in some ways to Allingham’s Albert Campion or Sayers’ Lord Peter Wimsey but without any of their charm. The book is narrated by a friend of Vance’s, whose name is Van Dine like the author himself, but although he accompanies Vance as he investigates, he never seems to actually speak or play any active part in the story at all, which I found very odd. His role seems to be purely to observe the other characters and relay information to the reader.

This book wasn’t a success with me, then, but I’m sure other readers will enjoy it much more than I did, particularly if you like mysteries that involve a lot of complex puzzle solving and logic. I doubt I’ll be looking for more books in the series, but I’m still glad I tried this one anyway!

Thanks to Pushkin Vertigo for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

The Big Four by Agatha Christie

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The November theme for the Read Christie 2025 challenge is spies. I’ve already read the recommended book, Cat Among the Pigeons, and most of the suggested alternatives – I don’t want to read Postern of Fate yet as it’s the final Tommy and Tuppence book and I’m working through that series in order – so I looked for one I hadn’t read that featured international intrigue and espionage. The Big Four seemed suitable but I was a bit wary about reading it as it seems to have a bad reputation. I needn’t have worried, though, because although it’s clearly not one of her better books, I still enjoyed it!

The novel is narrated by Arthur Hastings, which is always a good thing – I love Hastings! – and he plays a big part in the story, having adventures of his own, not just as narrator and sidekick to Poirot. The book begins with a man arriving unexpectedly in Poirot’s doorway, appearing feverish and exhausted. Unable to speak, he writes the number 4 several times on a sheet of paper, and when he recovers he explains that he was referring to an international crime ring consisting of the Chinese mastermind Li Chang Yen, an American, a Frenchwoman and a mysterious fourth person known only as ‘the Destroyer’. Together they form the Big Four, a group trying to cause global unrest so that they can take over the world.

The rest of the book takes the format of a series of loosely connected episodes, as Poirot, with the help of Hastings, tries to identify the other three members of the Big Four. Of course, with their own spies and agents in every corner of the world, the Big Four know that Poirot and Hastings are on their trail and set various traps for them, some of which they fall into and some they don’t. Poirot attempts to set traps of his own, but although he manages to identify the American and the Frenchwoman fairly quickly, Number Four proves much more elusive.

I found The Big Four more entertaining than I expected, considering that Christie herself described it as “a rotten book”. It’s understandable why she would feel that way as the book was published in 1927, during a time when Christie was struggling financially and emotionally and had disappeared from her home for several days. She felt she had to force herself to complete this book and the next one, The Mystery of the Blue Train. This also explains the episodic nature of the book, because it was based on twelve previously published short stories which Christie reworked into a full-length novel rather than trying to come up with a completely original idea while she wasn’t in the right frame of mind to do so.

Despite the book’s origins and its silly, far-fetched plot, I think it’s better than some of her later thrillers, such as Destination Unknown, but I can see why it’s not well regarded and it certainly doesn’t feel like a typical Poirot novel. As I’ve said, though, it has Hastings in it, which is always a bonus, and we also get to meet – sort of – Poirot’s twin brother, Achille! It was a fun, undemanding read for me in this busy month of November, but probably not one I’ll want to revisit.

The Eights by Joanna Miller

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Although women had been able to study at Oxford University since the 19th century, October 1920 marked the first time they were able to matriculate (or be formally admitted). In her new novel, The Eights, Joanna Miller imagines the stories of four fictional women who were part of this historic moment.

Beatrice Sparks, Theodora Greenwood, Marianne Grey and Ottoline Wallace-Kerr refer to themselves as the Eights because they occupy the four rooms on corridor eight of St Hugh’s, one of the Oxford colleges that is admitting female students. They also each have a name with eight letters, something which pleases Otto, who is a mathematician and loves the number eight. Otto’s family and friends, who are wealthy socialites, are surprised by her decision to study for a degree rather than concentrate on making a good marriage, but Otto is desperate to prove herself after feeling that she failed as a VAD nurse during the war.

Beatrice is the daughter of a suffragette and has grown up in the shadow of her formidable, overbearing mother. For her, university means independence, freedom and a chance to lead her own life at last. Theodora – known as Dora – is also grateful for the opportunity she has been given, but at the same time she feels a sense of guilt knowing that her brother, who was killed in the war, was supposed to be the one to go to Oxford. Dora also lost her fiancé in the war and she’s still struggling to come to terms with both tragedies. The final member of the Eights is Marianne, the quiet, clever daughter of a widowed vicar. Marianne seems to have led a sheltered life compared to some of the other girls at St Hugh’s, but she has a secret that she’s determined to keep hidden.

The Eights describes the experiences of these four young women during their first year at Oxford. There’s not really an overarching plot – more a series of episodes – but I didn’t have a problem with that as I was so absorbed in the lives of the four main characters. My favourite was probably Marianne, but I liked and admired all of them and enjoyed watching their friendships develop over the course of the year. The women all face a different set of challenges and struggle with self-doubt – about fitting in, coping with the work or living up to expectations – and it was good to see them grow in confidence and overcome some of the obstacles in their way. I liked the use of flashbacks to provide background information about each woman and the very different paths they followed that led them to Oxford.

Obviously I wasn’t at Oxford in 1920, so I have no idea how accurate the book is – all I can say is that the setting feels very authentic and it’s clear that Joanna Miller has done her research. She weaves historical detail throughout the novel, often beginning chapters with a real newspaper excerpt or a set of university rules and regulations (which illustrate the double standards in the way male and female students were treated). There’s a glossary at the end, as some readers may be unfamiliar with the academic terms used in the book, many of which are unique to Oxford. There are also some cameo appearances from real-life authors Vera Brittain and Winifred Holtby, who are attending Somerville College, one of Oxford’s other women’s colleges.

My only real criticism is that I found Marianne’s secret far too easy to guess and would have preferred to have been surprised by it, like the other students were. Otherwise, I really enjoyed this book and loved getting to know the Eights. It would be good to meet them again when they return for their second year at Oxford!

Thanks to Fig Tree for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

The Red Lacquer Case by Patricia Wentworth – #DeanStreetDecember24

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This month, Liz at Adventures in Reading, Running and Working from Home is hosting another Dean Street Press December. I have several books published by DSP that I would like to read but I decided to start with this one, a standalone Patricia Wentworth novel from 1924. I really enjoyed it, so it was a good choice!

The Red Lacquer Case is a spy thriller and like many books of its type it’s probably best not to take it too seriously. Accept it for what it is, though, and it’s great fun. Our heroine is Sally Meredith who, as the novel opens, is listening to her uncle, the scientist Fritzi Lasalle, telling her about a formula he has developed for a potentially dangerous new gas. Lasalle has become paranoid about the formula falling into enemy hands, so he has locked it inside a red lacquer case which has a secret opening mechanism. After showing Sally how it works, he explains that an attempt to open it in any other way will release acid into the case, destroying the contents.

During the night, Lasalle walks out of the house and disappears, leaving behind a note for Sally telling her that the red lacquer case is hidden on a bookshelf. When she goes to look for it, however, she discovers that it’s been stolen. It seems that Lasalle’s worst fears have come to pass and enemy agents now have the case – but they don’t know how to open it and for that they’ll need Sally’s help.

The rest of the novel follows Sally as she tries to evade the enemy, who are determined to capture her and force her to open the case. Unfortunately, although she’s a brave, plucky heroine (thankfully the complete opposite of the infuriating Loveday Leigh in Fool Errant, the only other Wentworth novel I’ve read), she’s too trusting and unobservant and walks straight into every trap set for her. It makes the plot more exciting, I suppose, but it’s also quite frustrating. It’s one of those books where you keep wishing you could jump into the story for a moment and shout “No! Don’t do it!”

Sally has some help from Bill Armitage, a former love interest who now works for the War Office and coincidentally also happens to be on the trail of Uncle Fritzi’s secret formula. He’s not as much help as he could have been, however, because he and Sally spend most of the book embroiled in a series of misunderstandings, being caught out by fake telegrams and other deceptions used by the enemy agents. Luckily for Sally, she find some unlikely allies at the enemy hideout, including a temperamental Polish violinist who conveniently falls in love with her and an elderly aunt who’s completely unaware that she’s sharing her house with spies.

I think you can probably see why I’ve said this isn’t a book to be taken seriously! It’s great escapism, though, and very entertaining. Just be aware that it’s not really the ‘Golden Age mystery’ the cover indicates, as there’s very little mystery involved (although there is a twist at the end, which I didn’t see coming but should probably have guessed). I’m looking forward to reading more of the Patricia Wentworth books available from Dean Street Press!

Poor Girls by Clare Whitfield

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It’s 1922 and Eleanor Mackridge, like many women, is finding it difficult to adjust to ‘normal life’ now that the war has ended. Compared to working in a munitions factory and feeling that she was doing something important for her country, her new job waitressing at a Brighton hotel is dull and boring. Marriage could offer an escape route, but that doesn’t sound very appealing either, so when Eleanor crosses paths with a member of the all-female crime gang, the Forty Elephants, the temptation to join them is too strong to resist.

Now known as Nell, she moves to London where she is assigned to a cell – a group of four gang members who live and work together – and begins her education in the art of theft. Soon she knows how to steal expensive furs and jewels from London’s grandest department stores, how to conceal her loot in hidden pockets and, most importantly, how to avoid being arrested. Although her conscience troubles her at first, she soon learns to love her new life and her new friends. But what will Nell’s family say when they discover what she is doing? And what will happen if her luck runs out and she gets caught?

Poor Girls is an enjoyable, fast paced novel rooted in historical fact. I wasn’t aware until I finished the book and read the author’s note that the Forty Elephants really existed (the name comes from the Elephant and Castle area of London, where they were based). Although the gang leader, Alice Diamond – known as Queen Alice – was a real person, Nell Mackridge seems to be a fictional character. However, through the stories of Nell and her friends, Whitfield explores some of the factors that may have driven young women like them to turn to a life of crime.

It was fascinating to see how the gang operated and to watch Nell learning all the tricks of the trade – all the cons, deceptions and disguises she needed to be able to avoid detection. Interestingly, women had an advantage when it came to shoplifting as store security were reluctant to stop and search female customers. Also, all those layers of clothing they wore were useful for hiding stolen goods! The success of their operations depended on working together as a team, so trust was necessary between the members of each cell and Nell formed strong bonds with Effie, Lily and Charlie, her partners in crime.

I did have one or two minor criticisms of the book: I felt that the characters of Nell’s three friends could have been more clearly defined – Charlie and Lily, in particular, seemed interchangeable – and there were times when the language felt more 2020s than 1920s. Otherwise, this was a very entertaining novel with a plot not quite like any other I’ve read. I also liked the fact that, although crime is obviously not something we should admire or find glamorous and Whitfield does make the consequences clear, at the same time she isn’t trying to push a moral message onto the reader. The ending of the book isn’t quite what you would expect either, but it’s probably more realistic that way.

It seems that Alice Diamond and the Forty Elephants have been the subject of several recent novels and there’s a non-fiction book available as well. I’m not sure how I’ve missed them all, but will investigate them now. I would also like to read Clare Whitfield’s earlier novel, People of Abandoned Character.

Thanks to the publisher for making a copy of this book available for review via The Pigeonhole.

Book 51 for the Historical Fiction Reading Challenge 2024

The Secret of Chimneys by Agatha Christie

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I’m taking part in Read Christie again this year and the theme for 2024 is Agatha Christie: Through the Decades. Each quarter will focus on a different decade or decades – 20s, 30s, 40s/50s and 60s/70s. For my January read, I have chosen The Secret of Chimneys, which was published in 1925.

The Secret of Chimneys is the first of five novels featuring Superintendent Battle and is more of a thriller than a traditional murder mystery. I usually enjoy the lighter, more adventurous feel of Christie’s thrillers and although this one hasn’t turned out to be a favourite, I did find it very enjoyable. It involves political intrigue in the fictitious Balkan country of Herzoslovakia where attempts are under way to restore the monarchy.

The novel begins in Africa, where Anthony Cade is working as a tour guide when he meets an old friend, James McGrath, in Bulawayo. Anthony agrees to carry out two important tasks for McGrath – firstly, to deliver the manuscript of a memoir written by Count Stylptitch of Herzoslovakia to a London publisher, and secondly, to return a packet of letters to a woman who is being blackmailed. As soon as he arrives in England, however, he discovers that there are other people interested in both the manuscript and the letters, and they will stop at nothing – including murder – to get what they want.

Most of the action takes place at Chimneys, a country estate belonging to Lord Caterham, who invites Anthony to attend a house party at the request of George Lomax, a politician hoping to get his hands on the Stylptitch memoir. With a large and varied group of people gathered at Chimneys – including a beautiful widow, a French governess, a representative from a British oil syndicate and an American collector of rare books – there’s no shortage of suspects when a murder occurs and Superintendent Battle is called in to investigate.

As I’ve said, this is not just a straightforward murder mystery and Christie throws all sorts of things into the plot, from treasure hunts and coded letters to secret societies and international jewel thieves. It’s fun to read, but does need some suspension of disbelief! You also need to be prepared for a lot of racist language, which isn’t unexpected in a Christie novel – or many other 1920s novels – but it seems more excessive in this particular book, maybe because of the large number of characters of other nationalities and races. Other than that, this is an entertaining, fast paced read, written in a light and humorous style that reminded me of PG Wodehouse.

Although Anthony Cade seems to do a lot of the detecting in this book, Battle himself has a larger role than in some of the others in which he appears. He’s certainly no Poirot or Miss Marple, being rather stolid and unimaginative, with what is described as an ‘expressionless face’, but he gets on with his job quietly and unobtrusively and plays a small but important part in the final solving of the mystery. Did I solve it myself? Well, yes and no. I guessed the identity of the jewel thief, King Victor, but there were other revelations that took me by surprise.

This was a good start to a new year of Christie reading! Next month I’m hoping to read The Seven Dials Mystery, another 1920s novel which features some of the same characters.