Artistic activity awaits in Elizabeth Lynn Casey’s Remnants of Murder, her eighth entry in the Southern Sewing Circle Mysteries. Sweet Briar, South Carolina, has seen more than its share of murders, but they haven’t ended yet. Library Director Tori Sinclair faces numerous problems: library funding has been slashed, a long-term employee must be terminated—and Tori’s wedding and honeymoon must be planned. Most importantly, a murder must be solved. First, though, Tori and her sidekicks from the sewing circle must convince the lethargic authorities that the death of a curmudgeonly nonagenarian is, in fact, a homicide. Tori’s research skills come into play as she concludes that Clyde Montgomery was felled by arsenic poisoning. Eventually, after an autopsy confirms Tori’s suspicions, the police begin a formal investigation. Plenty of people had motive to kill Clyde, who refused to sell his prime property to developers, but who had sufficient ongoing contact with him to perpetrate a slow poisoning? Follow Tori as she belatedly solves the murder. Fortunately, though, she will get to the church on time!
Mystery Scene was saddened to hear about the death of crime novelist Robert Barnard on September 19. Here is an article which we published in 2012 about this Cartier Diamond Dagger recipient.
The appearance within the past year of two brand-new books by Robert Barnard is a cause for celebration. The pleasure is tinged with a little sadness, because Bob (as everyone knows him) has indicated that, since he also recently celebrated his 75th birthday, he plans to take a very well-earned retirement from regular professional writing. But all this makes it the perfect time to review his highly successful career, and for me to reflect on a friendship with Bob and his wife Louise that has been a source of joy to me for close to a quarter of a century.
Bob Barnard is an Essex man—he was born in Burnham-on-Crouch in 1936. The same vintage year saw the arrival on the scene of two of his crime-writing colleagues, Reginald Hill and Peter Lovesey—all three of them would proceed to win the CWA Cartier Diamond Dagger for their sustained achievement in the crime genre. Bob was educated at a grammar school in Colchester before going on to Balliol College, Oxford. His father, whose varied career included a spell as a London police constable and also as a thatcher, became a successful writer of romantic fiction, although Bob wryly points out that he encountered some difficulties with the taxman as well.
Not long after leaving Oxford, he moved to the other side of the world, becoming a lecturer in English in New South Wales and meeting and marrying Louise, an Australian. His time there provided him with the background for his debut crime novel, Death of an Old Goat, which was published by Collins Crime Club in the UK in 1974. By that time he had—perhaps wisely, given what he had to say about Australia and its academic life—moved to Norway, first lecturing in Bergen and later becoming a professor of English at Tromso. Almost inevitably, in 1980, he proceeded to write a book set in Norway, Death in a Cold Climate.
He rapidly established himself as a distinctive talent, with a flair for skewering vanities, especially among the English middle-classes, that has never deserted him. Religion (his grandfather became a keen Jehovah’s Witness, much to his father’s chagrin) and the Royal Family regularly get a kicking in his fiction, and it is typical of him that his nothing-is-sacred stories often also take aim at Balliol men and novelists. Death in Purple Prose (1987, also known as The Cherry Blossom Corpse) pokes fun at writers of romantic fiction, while another of his titles is the self-explanatory Death of a Mystery Writer (in the UK the same book was published, in 1978, as Unruly Son). His ability to construct unusual plots, allied to a sharp wit, earned a range of accolades, including appearances on the shortlist for the Edgars, for best novel and best short story. One of his conspicuous strengths is brevity; his novels continue to defy fashion by remaining as concise as ever.
From Death of an Old Goat onwards, Barnard showed an ability to make effective use of what he has learned on his travels around the world, as well as his knowledge of subjects in which he has a special interest. He is an opera buff, for instance, and Death on the High Cs, published in 1977, illustrates his enthusiasm for opera. So does The Mistress of Alderley (2002), which features an unorthodox murder weapon. His love of music also prompted him to write a couple of books in the mid-’90s under the name Bernard Bastable, featuring Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.
He is also an expert on the Brontë family and their work, and co-authored with Louise A Brontë Encyclopedia (2007), although he tends to be dismissive of The Missing Brontë, a novel he produced in 1983. Five years ago, I had the privilege of visiting Haworth Parsonage with several other crime writers. We were shown around by Bob, and he gave us a memorable insight into the lives of the Brontës. (The Corpse at the Haworth Tandoori, published in 1998, does not, however, focus on that extraordinary Victorian family or their home.)
Politics is another of his interests (he once worked for the Fabian Society), and crops up in several of his books, as well as in the recent short story “Political Necessity.” Political Suicide, published in 1984, was a very enjoyable novel set around a by-election although changes in the political landscape in the intervening years mean it is now a little dated. A Scandal in Belgravia (1991) also has a political backdrop, and if I were asked to name my all-time favorite Barnard novel, that would be a strong candidate, not least because of a splendid late plot twist. The same title, incidentally, was recently used for an episode of the second series of the highly popular BBC TV series Sherlock.
His first series character, the Scotland Yard man Perry Trethowan, made his debut in Death by Sheer Torture (1981). Later, he introduced Charlie Peace, a black Yorkshire cop who sometimes worked with Mike Oddie. These cops are all likeable, but perhaps not developed as fully as is the modern fashion. For Barnard, series characters tend to be a means to developing a particular story line, and arguably much of his best work dispenses with them.
Barnard is a stern judge not only of the people who appear in his fiction, but also of his own work. In fact, I struggle to think of any successful novelist I’ve gotten to know—other than the late, great Julian Symons—who is quite so critical of many of his own books. In the case of both Julian and Bob, I feel their judgments on their own work have sometimes been too harsh, but their constant quest for something new and better sets a good example for other writers.
Yet if he is an unflinching critic, Barnard is quick to lavish praise where it is due. Quite apart from his passion for the Brontës, he has a deep understanding of Dickens’ greatness, and his enthusiasm for Victorian fiction prompted one of his most underestimated books, To Die Like a Gentleman (1993). Again published under the Bastable byline, this is an epistolary novel, suggestive of the style of Wilkie Collins, yet brisk and entertaining enough to stand on its own merits rather than merely be appreciated as pastiche. The fourth book published as by Bastable, A Mansion and its Murders, appeared first in the US, and it may be fair to say that although Barnard is (despite setting his stories in various parts of the world) a very English writer, his work has sometimes seemed to be valued more highly in America than in his native country.
Barnard’s critical skills are displayed in A Talent to Deceive: An Appreciation of Agatha Christie. First published in 1980, this readable and perceptive work was revised and updated a decade later, with a bibliography compiled by Louise. Studies of Christie’s mysteries and life have proliferated in recent years, but along with those in a thoughtful discussion of her methods by Emma Lathen, to which he refers, and in John Curran’s two recent books exploring her private journals, Barnard’s insights are the most incisive. He does not allow his scholarship to prevent him from discussing Christie in an accessible and enjoyable way; he discusses her personal life, and a chapter is devoted to her famous disappearance of 1926, but the emphasis is properly on her writing, and her mastery of plot structure.
To my mind, his chapter about Christie’s “strategies of deception” is one of the very best short analyses of the methods of constructing tantalizing whodunit puzzles ever written. “She demanded from her reader,” he says in explaining her global appeal, “only a noticing eye and ear, and a lively grasp of the facts of everyday life.” Significantly, he draws an analogy between her approach and that of Dickens in Oliver Twist and Bleak House. Even though it is more than three decades since it was written, A Talent to Deceive remains a must-read for the Christie fan.
By the time I came across Bob in person, he and Louise had returned to England, his success having enabled him to concentrate on a life of crime. They moved to Armley in Leeds, where they still live, a choice dictated at least in part by the excellence of the city’s operatic productions. Our first encounter was at the same unforgettable inaugural lunch of the Northern Chapter of the Crime Writers’ Association at which I met Reginald Hill and his wife Pat; Bob and Louise also became regular attendees at the lunches and weekends that we organized over the years. I’ve been lucky enough, for instance, to hear him lecture about Christie both at Torquay, the town of her birth, during her centenary celebrations in 1990, and at Harrogate, in the very hotel where she was discovered staying under an assumed name in 1926. I recall one skeptical, youngish crime writer back in 1990 challenging Bob about Christie’s literary merit, only to find that Bob provided a compelling account as to why she continues to be so widely read, when other, seemingly more gifted writers—as well as many “commercial” writers whose literary talents were in fact much less substantial than Christie’s—have fallen by the wayside. It was an education for those present. A special memory of Bob’s generosity concerns the time when he and Louise—knowing of my fascination with the traditions of the genre—invited me to be their guest at a Detection Club dinner at the Savoy in 1994. At that time, I was still a newcomer to the scene and never dreamed that one day I’d be joining Bob and Louise at other Detection Club dinners as a fully fledged member.
As with Christie, there is no pretension in Robert Barnard, the man or the books. He said modestly 21 years ago, “I write only to entertain.... My books are old-fashioned, though I think some of them contain more humor than most of the ‘Golden Age’ writers usually put in,” and added that, as well as Christie, he especially admired Margery Allingham, Ruth Rendell, and Margaret Millar. He might also have mentioned Christianna Brand, another brilliant plotter, who became a good friend of his, and about whom he once wrote an article for Mystery Scene.
I admire Bob Barnard’s short stories, and for the past two decades, his has been one of the first names to spring to mind when I have been looking for contributions to anthologies. I have fond memories of a Saturday back in 1992, when Bob, Val McDermid, Chaz Brenchley, and I met at the house of Ann Cleeves, herself a future CWA Gold Dagger winner, to discuss the first anthology of work by Northern Chapter members, Northern Blood. Since then it has been my privilege to read a good many of Bob’s manuscripts (and they are manuscripts—he doesn’t do email!). The most recent is “Just Popped In,” which appeared in the 2011 CWA collection, Guilty Consciences. Naturally it gave me a special thrill when “Sins of Scarlet,” a story of dark deeds in the Vatican, which he contributed to I.D.: Crimes of Identity, won the CWA Short Story Dagger.
Barnard’s skill at the short form has been recognized over the years, not only with nominations and awards, but also by publishers who have brought out no fewer than three collections of his work. Quite an achievement in this day and age, when single-author story collections are widely and depressingly seen as uncommercial. The latest gathering is Rogue’s Gallery, which includes “Sins of Scarlet” as well as stories taking potshots at a range of targets. They include Conservative politicians and their wives, the doomed marriage of the Prince and late Princess of Wales, incompatible married couples, Mozart again, and parents who take it for granted that their own mother or father will put their lives aside to look after their grandchildren.
His latest, and perhaps final novel, just published in the US but not yet available in the UK, is A Charitable Body, which sees Charlie Peace’s wife Felicity becoming embroiled with a charitable trust overseeing Walbrook Manor, an 18th-century mansion. This is emphatically a work of fiction, but I would hazard a guess that Bob’s knowledge of the ways of the charitable world is informed by his long involvement with the Brontë Society.
Both books are pleasing reminders not only of Barnard’s talents as a crime writer, but also of his multifaceted life and interests. Even if he keeps to his resolve to put away his pen, he has given mystery fans a vast amount of entertainment for close on 40 years. Anyone who appreciates a crisp, agreeable crime story with a touch of both originality and humor, and has yet to read Robert Barnard’s work, has much fun in store.
A ROBERT BARNARD READING LIST
Death of an Old Goat (1977)
A Little Local Murder (1983)
Death on the High Cs (1978)
Blood Brotherhood (1978)
Unruly Son (1979), aka Death of a Mystery Writer
Posthumous Papers (1980), aka Death of a Literary Widow
Death in a Cold Climate (1981)
Mother's Boys (1981), aka Death of a Perfect Mother
Little Victims (1984), aka School for Murder
A Corpse in a Gilded Cage (1984)
Out of the Blackout (1985)
The Disposal of the Living (1985), aka Fete Fatale
Political Suicide (1986)
The Skeleton in the Grass (1988)
At Death's Door (1988)
A City of Strangers (1990)
A Scandal in Belgravia (1991)
The Masters of the House (1994)
Touched by the Dead (1999)
The Mistress of Alderley (2003)
A Cry From the Dark (2003)
The Graveyard Position (2005)
Dying Flames (2006)
Last Post (2008)
A Stranger in the Family (2010)
CHARLIE PEACE NOVELS
Death and the Chaste Apprentice (1989)
A Fatal Attachment (1992)
A Hovering of Vultures (1993)
The Bad Samaritan (1995)
No Place of Safety (1998)
The Corpse at the Haworth Tandoori (1999)
Unholy Dying (2001)
The Bones in the Attic (2002)
A Fall From Grace (2007)
The Killings on Jubilee Terrace (2009)
A Charitable Body (2012)
PERRY TRETHOWAN NOVELS
Death by Sheer Torture (1981)
Death and the Princess (1982)
The Case of the Missing Brontë (1983), aka The Missing Brontë
Death in Purple Prose (1987), aka The Cherry Blossom Corpse
NOVELS AS BERNARD BASTABLE
To Die Like a Gentleman (1993)
Dead, Mr. Mozart (1995)
Too Many Notes, Mr. Mozart (1996)
A Mansion and Its Murder (1998)
SHORT STORY COLLECTIONS
Death of a Salesperson: And Other Untimely Exits (1989)
The Habit of Widowhood: And Other Murderous Proclivities (1996)
Rogue's Gallery (2011)
Imagery and Theme in the Novels of Dickens (1971)
A Talent to Deceive: An Appreciation of Agatha Christie (1980)
A Short History of English Literature (1984)
Emily Brontë (British Library Writers' lives series) (2000)
A Brontë Encyclopedia (with Louise Barnard) (2007)
Dates are US publication
Martin Edwards has published 15 novels, most recently The Hanging Wood (Poisoned Pen Press). He has also edited 20 anthologies and published eight nonfiction books.
This article first appeared in Mystery Scene Fall Issue #126.
After highly sensitive intelligence information is stolen from the US Embassy in Switzerland, Nick Curry, aka the legendary ex-CIA agent “Scorpion,” finds himself on a short list of operatives throughout the world who are targeted for death by an organization run by a mysterious Iranian power broker known in espionage circles as “the Gardener.” Although loathe to work with the Agency again, it’s kill or be killed, so the Scorpion embarks on an international adventure in search of the Gardener, and his agent, Scale (named after the saw-scaled viper, the most venomous serpent in the Middle East). Whether he can do so before the ranks of America’s intelligence agencies are decimated remains to be seen, as his adversaries always seem to be one step ahead.
Although the elements of Andrew Kaplan’s Scorpion Deception may seem familiar to seasoned thriller readers, the book rises above mere formula due to its lean prose, convincing action, and frenetic pacing—readers get a real sense that the stakes are high, because that’s how Kaplan’s point-of-view character, the Scorpion, sees and experiences it. The book relentlessly hurtles forward toward an explosive climax, dragging its audience in its tailwind. Think The Bourne Ultimatum-style film action convincingly rendered on the printed page and you’ll get some idea of how well Kaplan handles things with the Scorpion, who enters his second quarter century in fine form.
F. Paul Wilson and Tracy L. Carbone's collaboration The Proteus Cure recalls such fine efforts from Wilson as The Select, Implant, and Deep as the Marrow. The Proteus Cure deals with the fallout from a new medical treatment for cancer, which, though successful in conquering the deadly disease, has some truly stunning side effects on those it cures. When those side effects come to the attention of the book’s heroine, oncologist Sheila Takamura, she unknowingly finds herself in the sights of the VecGen corporation, run by her mentor, Doctor Bill Gilchrist. Sheila quickly morphs from friend to threat as she digs deeper into the phenomena, threatening VecGen’s grandiose plans to change the world.
Wilson and Carbone take their premise in unexpected directions, resulting in a compelling and thought-provoking read, possibly evoking memories of the fun you had reading medical thrillers back in the day when they were a relatively new subgenre—you’ll likely find yourself thinking (positively) of Robin Cook’s classic Coma more than once. The book is also notable for its antagonists, who rise above the standard “villain out to rule the world” stereotype—they all register as individuals, complex human beings with unique, understandable, and most importantly relatable, motivations, rather than the standard “madmen with a plan” types who often play this role in other novels.
When it comes to villains, Wade Grinnell, the vicious killer featured in Kevin O’Brien’s Unspeakable, certainly stands out, primarily because his spirit seems to inhabit the body of former child movie star Collin Cox. He’s not in control, however, as, at first, he only emerges after Collin has been hypnotized, and even then, only when certain techniques are used. But, as the days go by, he seems to be coming out to play whenever Collin sleeps, targeting his friends, indulging in murder and arson. As the body count mounts, Collin tries to divine Wade’s motives, which, seem to have something to do with a series of brutal crimes committed a half century earlier, coincident with the Seattle World’s Fair.
Unspeakable is a pure adrenaline rush, a thriller that earns that label on each and every page. Collin is a sympathetic hero, a young man totally bewildered by what’s transpiring, yet clever and diligent enough to pursue the strange truths driving the heinous events happening all around him. Readers suffer right along with the young man, feeling a palpable sense of relief as O’Brien slowly begins to reveal the secrets behind the secrets. That it all ties together, and in such a convincing and satisfying (and not so obvious) way, is tribute to the power of O’Brien’s oft-proved (this is his 13th novel) storytelling and plotting skills.