“London publisher shot in automatic elevator. Dr. Horatio Glass and Insp. Hornbeam pool wits—and humor—to spot the killer. Neat variation of good old ‘hermetically sealed room’ problem, with two authors—and their sleuths—working beautifully in harness. Verdict: Top Drawer”—The Saturday Review
A seemingly impossible murder in a private elevator draws two sleuths to the case. Inspector Hornbeam and Dr. Horatio Glass are at odds from the beginning, each dismissive of the other’s theories, thus creating an atmosphere as much of competition as cooperation.
From the novel:
The elevator was perhaps six feet square by eight feet high, with steel walls painted to imitate bronze. Sir Ernest Tallant sat very quietly in the rear right-hand corner. His legs were outthrust stiffly, his back bent a little forward; and the brim of the rakish gray hat shaded his face. He might have been a grotesque parody of Little Jack Horner, if it had not been for the widening bloodstains on the left breast of his jacket. His umbrella lay beside him, also looking oddly childish like his posture. Under each roof corner of the elevator there was a tiny electric light; these four little lights illumined even the wrinkles on the backs of the man’s hands, and glittered on the pieces of broken glass.
Published in the United Kingdom as Drop to His Death
Vicky's suspicions are heightened when she learns of the Flemmings' shaky finances - and that Doug has as many admirers as Scarlett had enemies. And while canvassing suspects and juggling three potential suitors, Vicky must stay one step ahead of a killer once she realises she's no longer writing an obituary - she's writing an expose!
The whole family soon settles down to its new life near Falmouth, feeling comfortable and happy there, when suddenly the local maritime community around them is stunned by a murder in their midst. A young man is found stabbed and propped up against an ancient standing stone at the crossroads of two narrow lanes overlooking the water, a place where legend says a gibbet once stood.
It is DCI Channon's territory, and when he investigates he finds that the victim is connected to all the Pascoes, including the absent father, as well as to other residents of what was once a humble fishing village but which now includes out-of-towners with considerable wealth. The ramifications of the murder affect everybody; rumour and suspicion are rife, and Channon, aided by the abrasive Sergeant Bowles, find that the murder at the crossroads is one of his most difficult cases.
Praise for Olive Etchells
'The most unnerving crimes of violence are the ones that tear apart small, tightly-knit communities... and Etchells demonstrates this awful process of disintergration.' New York Times Book Review
'Etchells' smoothly written police procedural features an intuitive and sensitive hero, Detective Chief Inspector Channon... (his) compassion for the families of the victims, as well as his ability to synthesise information, leaves the reader eager to see more of him.' Publishers Weekly
'A quiet but suspenseful village mystery' Booklist
“One always embarks
on a John Rhode book with a great sense of security. One knows that there will
be a sound plot, well-knit process of reasoning, and a solidly satisfying
solution with no loose ends or careless errors of fact.”—Dorothy Sayers
From the Jacket:
Fair blew the wind
from France, and the Channel steamer Isle of Jethou rolled a bit in the stiff
south-westerly breeze. But the rough crossing didn’t upset the mysterious
passenger who had locked himself into his cabin as soon as he boarded the boat
at Guernsey. The same desire for seclusion had manifested itself on the boat-train
to Waterloo, for the guard had been presented with a pound-note to reserve a
compartment for Mr. Mystery. But did he travel alone? For at Waterloo the
gentleman from Guernsey was a pretty genuine corpse. Death on the Boat-Train is
a first-rate detective story, once again featuring the coldly clever scientific
mind of Dr. Priestley, John Rhode’s brilliant creation.