The Crime-Book Society paperback edition No.58 - 1938/9?
This is the third Andrew Soutar thriller I have read in the Crime-Book Society series and the second to feature Kharduni (see my Blog for 6th January 2026). I wrote of that story then that it was very strange and highly improbable with the finale in the English Channel needing a large Scotch or G & T to hand. This, too, has its finale in the Channel and borders on the improbable. It might be worth quoting the blurb on the flyleaf of the dust wrapper: "Kharduni is a wonderful character; there may be some who may regard him as a man with a super-brain. He is, at any rate, a person with a very vivid imagination backed with a weird facility for reading other people's thoughts, and perhaps inspiring them...in this mystery the coroner's jury returned a verdict of suicide, but Kharduni knew, and was able to prove,, that it was deliberate and brutal murder. Relentlessly he trailed each of the conspirators.
The first paragraph certainly backs this image of Kharduni up: Very rich was Kharduni, of whom you shall read in this story; very mysterious, very unforgiving if a wrong were done. Tireless as the wolf in pursuit, cunning as a lynx in subtlety, relentless as the tiger when the chase was ended and pursued and pursuer came face to face. So, when we see that the first Chapter is headed Six Knaves Meet, we know they are doomed. These eminently respected men met in a room in a City office, in a block known as The Pyramids, in order to decide which one of them should murder Sebastian Melrose. Who are they? Amos Sneede, age fifty, slight of stature, partially bald, and alert like a London sparrow. Clever business man; Ernest Tannick, powerfully built man, forty-two or forty-three. Dark complexion; eyes deep-set and piercing...strong, virile hands, the backs of which were rather repulsively covered with hair (clearly needs watching, then); Oliver Brekkan, fifty-five. The least attractive of them all (was he totally covered in repulsive hair?)...he was notorious for his daring plunges in the City and elsewhere; Samuel Kadjer, a man reputed to have made nearly a million in one day by the amalgamation of two vast trusts...lean as Cassius...facial expression rather arrogant and impatient of delay; Dr. Wimpoll, medical man held in considerable esteem in the West End. Middle-aged and obviously vain. Known to be somewhat a philanderer; and Shivada, a slightly built, very dark-complexioned man, who suggested the Portuguese. Black, oily hair...vindictive of eye (N.B. it's the 1930s - all foreigners are suspect). Shivada was the Judas of the party, since he was the junior partner of Samuel Melrose. The six men had been trying to make a corner in Great Ores, buying all they could buy in order to force up the price. But the more they bought, the more Melrose flooded the market (he appeared to have an inexhaustible store), keeping the price down. Clearly, he had to go; but by whom?
It is decided by picking a card and Shivada is the fall guy. The group spread rumours that Melrose is depressed so, when he is found dead in his office with a bullet in his temple and his hand still holding his own revolver, it is clearly a case of suicide. The coroner's court upholds this verdict, particularly as the dead man had penned a letter to Shivada stating he intended to end it all. Case closed - not to Kharduni. He is the legal representative of Melrose's daughter, Maureen, and demands to asks some questions. The coroner was slightly flustered. And well he, and the naughty six, might be. Kharduni confides to his manservant, Bleacher, that I like to see justice done...I think I shall prove to you that there is not one law for the rich and one for the poor...you are going to see these people torture each other until life becomes unbearable...
And so begins an increasingly unlikely tale. Although Shivada is soon found hanging from The Pyramids' roof garden (having also 'written' a suicide note), the other five are somehow persuaded to join a Cruise in the Mediterranean. Luxurious yacht the 'Charon', equipped with every modern invention Peace, tranquillity, health restored by the sapphire seas; minds cleansed by the salt-laden wind....no passports required. Only very few passengers taken. The infamous five have no idea any of the others have booked. Surprise, surprise! Gradually, Kharduni works his way with them. The ship, in fact, never leaves the Channel and ends up anchored off his Devonshire coastal house (Yvonne the black panther also has a chilling part to play again). The psychological nightmare that he imposes on each man is well done. Newspapers report that the Charon had 'sunk with all hands', foundering off the Nor; and then obits on the rogues start appearing. All these are 'leaked' to them and they turn on each other. Tannick is the first to go - overboard. They find that the yacht's name has been changed to The Morning Sun. A screen on the yacht shows Shivada's murder. Dr. Wimpoll also goes overboard; Kadjer is found dead with a knife between his shoulder-blades. And so on. The two remaining realise that for the first time in thirty or forty years, perhaps, the fact had been beaten on their brains that they were defenceless. Money was of no avail to them now. Both are dead before the end of the tale.
Romance is provided by young Dawlish, who has travelled the world over with Kharduni, and with him passed through a hundred and one adventures. He had also bumped into Maureen and her late father when they had holidayed with Kharduni in Ceylon. Now he is back, and absolutely signed up to K's plan to deal with the dastardly five and succour Maureen. It is he who commands the motor-yacht.
The Crime-Book Society paperback edition No.60 - 1938/9?
Inevitably, when one is reading so many books by different authors in this series, one come across a tale that doesn't quite gel with you. Not necessarily an actual 'dud', but well below par. I am afraid this story was one of these. Anthony Wynne was the nom de plume for Captain Robert McNair Wilson (1882-1963), a Scottish surgeon, writer, journalist and Liberal party politician. Educated at Glasgow Academy and Glasgow University, he studied medicine and was House Surgeon at Glasgow Western Infirmary. He subsequently moved to London, where he opened a General Practice in 1903. He continued his medical studies and was known as a heart specialist 1920-33. He was Medical Correspondent of The Times 1914-1942. He wrote on European history and economics, but is best known for his detective stories - 27 novels between 1925 and 1950. Many of these feature Dr. Eustace Hailey, a snuff taking nerve specialist and amateur detective. Hailey is not a particularly interesting character and the novels have little or no humour.
In front of spectators and experts from the Air Ministry at his private aerodrome by the sea in Ayrshire, Sir Malcolm Kintyre's aeroplane crashes. He was found in the wreckage with a bullet wound and a knife through his shoulder. He has clearly been murdered, but how and by whom? From the moment when he took off till the moment he crashed, every one of the five spectators was ready to swear that he or she had the machine in full view the whole time. There was no-one else in the plane (a two-seater). Dr. Hailey's expertise is summoned to the scene by Inspector McColl, who tells Hailey that Kintyre was one of the biggest buyers of wheat in Europe - in the world. Kintyre was known to be as hard as iron and seemingly indifferent to the plight of poor people perhaps starving. The pages dealing with wheat prices, short selling and communist designs on effecting changes left me rather cold. I didn't understand a lot of it either. Kintyre was also experimenting with developing an aeroplane which could hold heavier loads; he felt a major war was inevitable.
Essentially, the story is that of Hailey tracking down the culprits behind the murder. We follow the doctor to Glasgow, then to a tiny island in the middle of a lake in the far north of Scotland. None of the characters felt sympathetic to this reader. There are Kintyre's daughter, Rose; her boyfriend Bob Cameron - who, being alone by the crashed plane for some time, gets accused of the murder (Kintyre had never thought him monied enough for his daughter); old Miss Mirabel Fortress, whose father had been a soldier in India and who she never stops talking about; Sarah Kennedy, Kintyre's rather anaemic niece; Kintyre's side-kick and Sarah's beau, Blades; and Mrs. Morier, a friend of Kintyre - she has a pilot's certificate too and is rather too 'crisp' with her answers to Hailey. One to watch, then. We also meet Ronald O'Flynn, a Glaswegian bookmaker, and a publican called McTugg, mine host of the Starling's Nest on Gavin Road, Glasgow. All these characters feed into the story, which turns out to be a communist plot after all. The tale plods along efficiently enough, but I simply wasn't gripped by it and I found the explanation of how the murder occurred unsatisfactory.
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