Lesa's Book Critiques: Kevin’s Corner Annex – The Bookseller by Tim Sullivan
Tuesday, June 30, 2026
Friday, June 12, 2026
Paula Messina Reviews: The Secret Hangman by Peter Lovesey
Please welcome author Paula Messina back to the blog
today…
The
Secret Hangman
by
Paula Messina
The Secret
Hangman by Peter Lovesey begins with Inspector Peter Diamond receiving a
letter from a secret admirer. Far from mysterydom’s cuddliest detective,
Diamond is surprised any woman is interested in meeting him. Nevertheless, the
woman who has the hots for Diamond optimistically suggests they meet at the
Saracen’s Hotel on Thursday evening.
Diamond wouldn’t
be Diamond if he wrote the date down in his calendar. It’s fair to guess
Diamond doesn’t own a calendar of any sort. Besides, he put the secret admirer
out of mind as he quickly moved on to search for a missing mother, Delia
Williamson.
The next day, a
woman is found hanging from a swing’s crossbar in Bath’s Sydney Gardens. You
don’t need to be an avid mystery fan to know with absolute certainty that the
dangling woman is Delia Williamson.
Her death is
obviously a suicide. At least that’s what Diamond and everyone else believe
until the pathologist points out “two sets of ligature marks.”
Murder it is.
Diamond returns to
his office to find a chocolate cake in wait. The secret admirer strikes again.
After Diamond and crew polish off the cake, they attempt to trace Williamson’s
final hours. She worked her shift as a waitress at Tosi’s. Did she leave with
the waiter Luigi or with the last diner, Dalton Monnington, a Jacuzzi salesman?
Or was the murderer closer to home? Say her live-in lover, the rather cool
Ashley Corcoran? Or is it possible that Danny Geaves, Williamson’s former
partner and the father of her children, had it in for her?
Diamond wants to
speak to Geaves, only he’s vanished without that proverbial trace.
Until he is found
hanging from a bridge.
Meanwhile,
Diamond, his larder empty, goes grocery shopping and manages to drive over
another customer’s bags. After Diamond pays to replace her destroyed food, the
owner invites him for a drink that night, which is how Diamond meets Paloma
Kean and her son Jerry, a devote Christian who volunteers at hospitals in the
area.
Another woman is
found hanged, and days later, her missing husband is found suffering from a
similar fate. When a third woman is found at the end of a noose, it’s obvious a
serial killer is on the loose. Diamond begins a frantic search to find the
third missing husband before it’s too late.
Hangman
takes lots of twists, and Diamond runs through his list of suspects before
finally solving the who and why of the mystery. The only remaining question is
the fate of his relationship with Paloma Kean.
It shouldn’t come
as a surprise that we have a master plotter at work. Among the many honors
bestowed on Peter Lovesey (1936-2025) are the MWA Grandmaster Award for
Lifetime Achievement, the CWA Gold and Silver Daggers, and the Diamond Dagger
for Lifetime Achievement.
Lovesey’s also
great at spinning characters with real depth and personality. Peter Diamond is
a wonderful character worth revisiting in the other books in the series. He’s
irascible but vulnerable, not quite the curmudgeon he presents to the world,
and he has a sense of humor. Diamond’s still reeling from the murder of his
wife Steph three years before Hangman begins, and the scenes with Paloma
are touching and tender. It’s impossible not to root for Paloma to appear in
the next mystery.
The series also
boasts an admirable cast of supporting characters. There’s the well endowed
Georgina, Diamond’s boss whom he frequently locks horns with, and his
underlings, the delightful Ingeborg, the insufferable John Leaman, and the
long-suffering Keith Halliwell.
Readers enjoy
visiting locations mentioned in their favorite books. Arthur Conan Doyle died
in 1930, taking Sherlock Holmes and John Watson with him to the grave—at least
in theory. Nearly one hundred years later, fans still flock to the non-existent
221B Baker Street, perhaps expecting Mrs. Hudson to open the door and invite
them to wait upstairs for Holmes’ return. So it’s not surprising that another
well developed character in the Diamond series is Bath itself. Diamond climbs
hills and descends into Bath’s many caves. The places mentioned are real, not
figments of Lovesey’s imagination.
While reading Hangman,
I had the sense I could visit the places described and pop in for a pint
at the Old Crown, maybe even chat up Diamond himself, or perhaps spy on Paloma
and Diamond when they meet up at the Saracen’s Hotel for a little tipple. It
turns out Lovesey used to conduct tours of Bath.
I was convinced
that I had figured out early the connection between the three ill-fated couples
and the murderer. I resisted the temptation to jump ahead and confirm whether I
was correct. Of course, I’m not spilling the beans. You’ll have to read The
Secret Hangman to find out whodunnit. I can tell you this: Peter Diamond
and crew are well worth your time.
Amazon Associate Purchase Link: https://amzn.to/4fFP6Nw
Paula Messina ©2026
Paula Messina writes the Donatello Laguardia stories, which are set in Boston’s North End during the 1940s. They appeared in the Best New England Crime Stories 2024 and 2025 and another Donatello Laguardia short story is scheduled to appear in Black Cat Weekly. She lives near America’s first public beach.
Monday, June 08, 2026
Sunday, May 10, 2026
Paula Messina Reviews: Before Midnight by Rex Stout
Please welcome author Paula Messina back to the blog today…
Before Midnight
by Paula Messina
I
knew it was my lucky day when I found Before Midnight, a Nero Wolfe
mystery I hadn’t read. I’ve lost count of the Rex Stout mysteries I have read.
He’s an author I often return to. Before Midnight didn’t disappoint.
All the elements that make Rex
Stout a popular mystery writer are here. The crime is so complicated only a
genius of Nero Wolfe’s ilk can solve it. Archie’s as witty and charming as
ever. Nero Wolfe is his stubborn, inflexible self.
It’s
his way or the highway when Attorney Rudolph Hansen, accompanied by Messrs.
Oliver Buff, Patrick O’Garro, and Mr. Vernon Assa, descends on West 35th Street
uninvited and demand Wolfe abort his
eleven o’clock tete-a-tete with the orchids on the brownstone’s top floor.
And what matter is so dire the
orchids should be abandoned? Not the murder of Louis Dahlmann. Oh, no, not
that. It’s Dahlmann’s missing wallet, which contained the answers for a contest
to promote Pour Amour cosmetics, that is the pressing issue.
Hansen
represents Lippert, Buff and Assa, an advertising agency. LBA’s major client is
Heery Products, which sells the Pour Amour cosmetics line. Dahlmann, LBA’s late
wunderkind who conceived the idea for a contest with its million dollars in
prizes, had the audacity to take a bullet to his chest when the contest was in
its waning days.
Dahlmann’s
sins are even greater. The afternoon before his inconvenient demise, he waved
the sheet of paper with the answers in front of the final five contestants.
Now LBA and Heery Products are
in a very sour pickle. Dahlmann’s dead, and no one knows who has the contest’s
answers.
After much wrangling, Wolfe
agrees to undertake a search to discover who removed the wallet from Dahlmann’s
pocket and made away with the contest answers. For once, Wolfe—and
he is absolutely adamant on this point—is not
investigating a murder.
Is
the murderer the wallet thief, or was each crime committed separately? Is the
wallet thief Attorney Hansen? Someone from LBA? Heery Products owner Talbott
Heery? Or one of the final five contestants? The murder scene provides no
clues. Interviewing the lot proves fruitless. With nothing to go on, Wolfe’s
genius is of little value.
Then
a second body drops.
Wolfe
blames himself for the death and takes to his bed. But Wolfe finally puts his
genius to work, earns his substantial fee, and throws in the solution to
Dahlmann’s murder gratis.
As
a reader, characters are important to me. They need to be individuals I’m
willing to spend time with. Archie Goodwin and Nero Wolfe fill that bill. The
introduction to Before Midnight is by Robert Crais, and he lays out a
convincing argument that the power of this mystery series is the friendship
between Nero Wolfe and his chronicler, Archie Goodwin. I concur.
Crais
quotes Rex Stout: “Here are two friends. Here are two people sharing their
lives. As you wish for friendship, share in theirs. As you seek companionship,
share in theirs. As you search for love, search in theirs.”
After
listing many literary couplings, Craig says, “The appeal of friendship is old,
and the pleasures inherent in such fictional pairings are no less valid today
than they were in the days of Holmes and Watson, or in the thirties, forties,
fifties, sixties, and seventies—the incredible five decades
through which Stout published Nero Wolfe.”
In
creating Nero Wolfe, Stout clearly was inspired by Arthur Conan Doyle. Just as
the strength of the Holmes mysteries is the friendship between Sherlock and
John Watson, Archie Goodwin and Nero Wolfe’s relationship is paramount. It
contrasts with that of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson. Goodwin is not a
sidekick. He is Wolfe’s partner in crime solving. The housebound Wolfe
acknowledges that Goodwin is the eyes and legs of the partnership. They’re
equals. Holmes, on the other hand, often acts more as a teacher, lording over
Watson with his superior intellect and vast knowledge.
Archie’s
needling to rouse the lazy Nero to get to work might suggest otherwise, but the
pair share a deep respect and filial love. If you have any doubt, read Death
of a Dude in which Wolfe doesn’t just venture outside into the wilds of New
York, he flies to Montana to assist Archie.
There’s another reason Stout is
admired by so many writers. His simple style is deceiving. His descriptions are
always unique. For example, in Midnight, he doesn’t tell us contestant
Gertrude Frazee has a crooked smile. That would never do.
“When she spoke her lips wanted
to move perpendicular to the slant, but her jaw preferred straight up and down.
You might have thought that after so many years, at least sixty, they would
have come to an understanding, but nothing doing.”
The description is pure Archie
Goodwin. His wit is another reason the series has never gone out of print.
Archie’s intelligence is often overlooked. Maybe he isn’t the genius Wolfe is,
but he’s no slouch when it comes to those gray cells.
For my money, Nero is
misunderstood. Yes, he’s hardly the cuddliest guy in the literary world, but
he’s not callous. While Archie guarantees a fun time whether it’s watching a
Mets game or dancing into the wee hours, Nero is a fantastic host. You might not
want to dine with him every night as Archie does, but you can take this to the
bank: The food would be five-star Michelin and the conversation scintillating.
Just as Arthur Conan Doyle
occasionally drops the veil hiding Sherlock Holmes tender side, Stout gives us
glimpses into Wolfe’s sensitivity. If you doubt this, check out The Golden
Spiders.
I’m in the same camp as Dame Agatha Christie. I
read Stout for Archie, not Wolfe. This is from the Wolfe Pack website: Dame
Agatha Christie was a huge Rex Stout fan. She was known to go to her local
bookstore and enquire after the latest Archie Goodwin novel. The clerk would
gently remind her that they're referred to as Nero Wolfe mysteries, to which
Christie would reply, "Nonsense! Everyone knows that Archie does all the
work!"
Amazon
Associate Purchase Link: https://amzn.to/48OLPag
Puala Messina ©2026
Paula Messina
writes the Donatello Laguardia stories, which are set in Boston’s North End
during the 1940s. They appeared in the Best New England Crime Stories 2024 and 2025 and another Donatello Laguardia short story is scheduled to
appear in Black Cat Weekly. She lives near America’s first public beach.
Monday, May 04, 2026
Sunday, April 26, 2026
Lesa's Book Critiques: Kevin’s Corner Annex – The Monk by Tim Sullivan
Paula Messina Reviews: The Priest by Joseph Caruso
Please welcome back author Paula Messina to the blog today. By the way, when I was looking for cover images for the piece today, I cam across this regarding the author and the West End Museum.
The Priest
by Paula Messina
I write historical
fiction. One of my recurring characters and his family live in Boston’s North
End. He occasionally ventures into nearby Scollay Square and the West End.
Hoping to uncover some delectable morsel to use in my writing, I recently
visited the West End Museum.
The museum was
enjoyable, but I didn’t uncover anything I didn’t already know. That is until I
spotted a dark blue, thin volume in one of the display cases, Joseph Caruso’s The
Priest. Published in 1956, both novel and writer were new to me. I left the
museum hoping that The Priest would provide that tasty tidbit I’d been
searching for. I can’t say I found it. Instead, I discovered something far more
rewarding, a gripping novel.
The priest in
question is thirty-eight-year-old Father Octavio Scarpi, the eighth and
youngest surviving son of an Italian fisherman. ‘Tavio is huge, so huge he
cannot fasten his Roman collar. He is not Hollywood handsome, nor is he blessed
with a plain face. A former boxer, fisherman, and World War II soldier, the
priest has a “crooked, broken nose.” He’s an ugly giant whose exceptional
strength is his undoing.
Father Scarpi is
assigned to St. Dominic’s in the West End, where he grew up. He is haunted by
the death of his brother Onofrio and a war-time rape. A priest who hears
confessions and absolves others of their sins, he cannot forgive himself.
The novel begins
as a jury returns to the courtroom with its verdict. Joseph Shannan, a gangster
who unquestionably has earned a place behind bars, is found guilty of the
murder of Ellen Greer. When asked by the judge if he wishes to speak before
sentencing, Shannan tells the judge, “What’s there to say?...I been saying I
didn’t do it.”
Father Scarpi is
called to hear the confession of the dying Vincent Spinale. Grabbing the
priest’s wrist, Spinale begs for absolution after divulging, “I have sinned….I
killed a woman, father….Greer. I killed Ellen Greer. Save me, Father!”
Father Scarpi
grants Spinale absolution as the confessor lapses into a coma. Bound by the
seal of confession, the priest cannot reveal that Vincent Spinale is Ellen
Greer’s murderer. All hope of convincing Spinale to confess to the authorities
is doomed when he dies. Short of a miracle, the for-once-innocent Joseph
Shannan will die in the electric chair.
His lips might be
sealed, but that doesn’t keep Father Scarpi from attempting to right a wrong.
He visits Shannan, whose real name is Peppino Schianno, in prison. Shannan
recognizes ‘Tavio. Peppino and Onofrio were best friends. The meeting stirs
Father Scarpi’s memory of the first time he and Peppino met. An enraged Octavio
“poleaxed” his inebriated brother Onofrio. Their brothers Victor and Anthony as
well as Peppino restrained the massive Octavio as he lifted Onofrio “to hit him
again.”
The priest becomes
obsessed with Shannan and disobeys his superiors in a desperate effort to save
his dead brother’s friend. As he struggles to save Shannan from the electric
chair, Father Scarpi discovers Ellen Greer’s
murder hinged on rape. Ultimately, Octavio Scarpi, who cannot escape his guilt
in Onofrio’s death and the rape he committed during the war, cannot save
Shannan. Devastated by his failure, the priest decides to leave the priesthood.
Caruso doesn’t
sensationalize Father Scarpi’s dilemma. Instead, he depicts a very human,
deeply vulnerable man haunted by his violent past. Father Scarpi has lots of
company. St. Dominic’s other priests suffer from the same affliction as do
others, including Beneditto Scarpi, the priest’s father, who blames himself for
his wife’s early death. These Christians, who all believe God forgives sins,
cannot forgive themselves.
Beneditto tells
Octavio, “There is guilt in all of us, but at times the feeling of guilt is
more than the act that brought it on.”
Because of his
failure to save Shannan, ‘Tavio resoves his Roman collar and leaves the
priesthood. His brother John is unable to convince him to return to St.
Dominic. He tells the priest, “What I am doesn’t matter. It’s you that matters.
You are another man’s hope….Would you deprive your parishioners of their hopes
just for your own feelings of guilt?”
John sees what his
brother Octavio, blinded by guilt, cannot see. Father Scarpi is respected by
his parishioners, who seek and need his comfort and guidance. The priest, who
believes his physical strength is his greatest weakness, fails to recognize his
real strength, his faith.
The Priest
portrays a vibrant community of Sicilians, Southern Italian immigrants, and
their American children in the early 1950s. The men don’t attend Mass, but they
and their wives have a deep faith that guides their lives. The men are “calfoni:
fruit peddlers, laborers, fishermen.” In other words, they are uncivilized
and crude. They may have accents and lack polish, but they live their Old World
values, work hard to support their families, and trust in a God they pretend to
eschew.
There’s another
homicide that hovers unspoken over The Priest: the premeditated murder
in the first degree of the West End by the City of Boston. In the name of urban
renewal, Boston Mayor John Hynes targeted the destruction of the West End and
exiled the calfoni. According to the West End Museum, in 1958 and 1959,
more than 12,000 West Enders were evicted. Forty-six acres were leveled. Like
the Joni Mitchell’s song, “Big Yellow Taxi,” the city tore down a thriving
community to create a parking lot.
That gigantic
parking lot remained until 1965 when two towers with 477 apartments were
erected along with a gigantic sign that proclaims, “If you lived here, you’d be
home now.”
Only the families
that had occupied the land for decades could not go home. They couldn’t afford
the luxury apartments. To this day, former West Enders lament the destruction
of their homes.
Joseph Caruso
(1924-2008) was born in Sicily and immigrated to the West End when he was seven
years old. A writer, filmmaker, and painter who worked as an Art Director for
the Post Office, he received a Bronze Star for bravery during World War II.
Caruso was one of the founders of The Committee to Save the West End.
The families that
lived in the West End couldn’t stop the government, nor could they stop the
inevitable change already underway. The calfoni’s sons and daughters
assimilated and abandoned the Old World ways of their parents and ancestors.
Those who lived in the West End still mourn for the vibrant community that was taken from them. Little of Caruso’s West End remains. One exception is St. Joseph Parish, the novel’s St. Dominic. It is still an active church.
Paula Messina ©2026
Paula Messina writes the Donatello Laguardia stories, which
are set in Boston’s North End during the 1940s. They appeared in the Best
New England Crime Stories 2024 and 2025 and another Donatello Laguardia
short story is scheduled to appear in Black Cat Weekly. She lives near
America’s first public beach.
Saturday, April 25, 2026
Lesa's Book Critiques: Kevin’s Corner Annex – Two Truths and a Lie by Mark Stevens
Saturday, April 18, 2026
Mystery Fanfare: The Big Shake: The 1906 San Francisco Earthquake Mystery Fiction - Guest Post by Randal Brandt
Friday, April 17, 2026
Friday, April 10, 2026
SleuthSayers: Richard Estes and the Art of Seeing
Wednesday, April 08, 2026
Monday, April 06, 2026
Friday, March 27, 2026
Lesa's Book Critiques: Kevin’s Corner Annex – The Crossroads by C.J. Box
Sunday, March 15, 2026
Guest Post: Reprise - Kansas City Breakdown by M.E. Proctor
In the
middle of next month, Kansas City
Breakdown, will be released by Cowboy Jamboree Press. The book by
M. E. Proctor and Russell Thayer is a sequel to their Bop City Swing of last year. Please
welcome back M. E. Proctor to the blog today as she explains how the new book came
to be in this guest post.
Reprise - Kansas City Breakdown
by M.E. Proctor
When
Russell Thayer and I started Bop City Swing two years ago (already!),
neither of us had ever written a piece of fiction in collaboration. My only
experience with a vaguely similar joint effort goes back to producing a
200-page report with a colleague on the dry subject of alternative forms of
work organization (I’m not going to go into the nuts and bolts of that) when I
was on a research contract with a European university. I don’t remember how we managed
the writing part. What I recall is how much fun we had in the sandbox coming up
with wild ideas. And how much fun my research partner was. I can still picture
him. A dude tall as a giraffe, under thirty but with less hair left on his head
than a newborn chicken. He was quirky and brilliant. Christopher Lloyd in Back
to the Future. I suspect he smoked more than the cigarettes that he puffed
on constantly when we were together. Damn it, man, open the window! We
shared a tiny office, next to a rumbling mechanical room, blissfully remote
from the rest of the Economics Department and its stern director. We locked the
door to keep snoops away.
So
yes, I like to work with people. They should be a little mad and chaotic, to
balance my very organized mind.
If we
had sat down to ponder methods and objectives, Russell and I might never have
gotten out of the starting blocks. We just said, what the hell let’s do it, let’s
write a story featuring these two characters that we have put in a bunch of
stories already, and see where it takes us.
We created
an inciting incident, a political assassination in 1951 San Francisco, and threw
our characters into it. My protagonist, SFPD Homicide Detective Tom Keegan,
worked the case. The role of Russell’s leading lady—Vivian Davis aka Gunselle,
a killer-for-hire—was more of a head-scratcher. We brainstormed options,
discarded a bunch of them before landing on a promising one: Vivian was hired
to shoot the guy but somebody beat her to it. She’s pissed off because she was
robbed of a fat paycheck. Both Tom and Viv are hunting the killer. They each
have part of the solution. Eventually their paths will cross with explosive
results.
Bop
City Swing was conceived as a
stand-alone. Then we found a publisher (Cowboy Jamboree Press) and started
thinking about a follow-up. Tom and Vivian were great characters and deserved
another walk in the spotlights.
Follow-ups,
reprises, book #2 in a series can be tricky.
First
problem. The characters have a common history now. Supporting players have been
introduced. There’s a chronology of events, and continuity to think about. No
more meet-cute: he’s a cop and she’s a killer. Their interactions are ambiguous,
by definition. Add to that the attraction she feels for him and the temptation
she represents for him. The sexual tension between them added spice to the
first book. In the second one, it has to be picked up and given an extra tug.
To make things even more complicated, Tom is in a long-term relationship with a
spunky San Francisco Chronicle crime reporter.
Second
problem. The plot and the theme. Bop City Swing revolved around politics
and the misdeeds of the moneyed class. It was also a story of revenge and
trauma wrapped inside a murder investigation. Book #2 has to go in a completely
different direction.
One
way to mark a radical shift is to change locations. We left San Francisco and
decided to go to Kansas City. Jazz music, still, but with a side of barbecue. Then
we opened the Noir Codex on a couple of new pages. Under G and M for Gangsters
and Goons, Mobsters and Molls. And Russell and I went to work using our
favorite technique, the key questions:
Why would Vivian and Tom get together and what are they doing in Missouri?
As is
always the case when you put all the ideas in a big pot and stir vigorously, answers
come and keep coming as the plot progresses. Secondary characters walk on stage
and demand attention. Some almost get killed but survive because we like them
so much. Others aren’t so lucky. And the end is never exactly what you have in
mind at the beginning.
Here’s
how we answered our key questions.
The book starts with an FBI undercover operation. The plan is to infiltrate a
high-level Kansas City Mob meeting to gather information. A San Francisco
gangster is going to the conference and is considered a ‘soft’ target. He can
be seduced. A honey trap. If the right woman for the job can be found. Tom
knows somebody who could pull it off, but what will he have to do to convince
her? Vivian doesn’t work for the police. Tom has a stake in the success of the
mission. He’s her designated handler. His job is to get her out alive.
The
book is called Kansas City Breakdown.
In
music, according to Wikipedia, a ‘breakdown’ is a section of song characterized
by solo performances. Vivian and Tom have their starring moments. They also
play well together.
--
Latest Publication:
Kansas City Breakdown
By M.E. Proctor and Russell Thayer
Publisher: Cowboy Jamboree
April 2026
Paperback
eBook
Amazon Associate Purchase Link: https://amzn.to/4sJcEnQ
M. E. Proctor ©2026
M.E. Proctor was born in Brussels and lives in Texas. She’s the author of
the Declan Shaw detective mysteries: Love You Till Tuesday and Catch
Me on a Blue Day (Shotgun Honey Books).
She’s the author of two short story collections, Family and Other Ailments and A Book to Live By. She’s also the co-author with
Russell Thayer of two retro-noirs: Bop City Swing and Kansas City Breakdown. Short fiction in Vautrin, Tough, Rock and a Hard Place, Bristol Noir, Mystery Tribune, Reckon Review and Black Cat Weekly among
others. She’s a Shamus and Derringer short story nominee.
Author Website: www.shawmystery.com.
On Substack: https://meproctor.substack.com.
Friday, March 13, 2026
Lesa's Book Critiques: Kevin’s Corner Annex – The Cyclist by Tim Sullivan
Paula Messina Reviews: Strange Houses by Uketsu
Strange Houses
by Paula Messina
Strange Houses by Uketsu is
one strange book. I can imagine English teachers throughout the country hurling
it against a wall and screaming, “There’s no character development.”
They’d be right.
There’s also no plot, setting, or the requisite digging for clues in a mystery.
But that’s mere
quibbling.
After all, who
needs plot, character, and setting when the reader has Uketsu?
Houses isn’t nearly as
strange as the writer. Well, that might be nitpicking. Both book and writer are
bizarre. The strangest thing of all is that I, a connoisseur of the those
typical requirements -- you know, plot, character, setting – for labeling a
manuscript a novel, especially character development, read through to the end.
Truth is I’m a
sucker for books with pictures. Houses has a ton of them, so many that
it’s probably a novella disguised as a novel.
The “About the
Author” at the back of the book states that Uketsu “only ever appears online,
wearing a mask and speaking through a voice changer.” He has 1.5 million
followers, and his mysteries have sold “nearly 3 million copies in Japan since
2021.”
His real name
and identity are unknown. In the lower right hand corner of the book’s cover,
there’s a minuscule photo of Uketsu wearing a white mask. Well, we’re supposed
to believe it’s the author. It could be anyone wearing a mask, or a badly
carved pumpkin, or Angelina Jolie getting a facial. Take your pick.
According to
Wikipedia, “Uketsu's fiction blends conventional prose with visual elements
(drawings, diagrams, floor plans) that are presented as clues within the text.”
Indeed, Houses is replete with renderings of different houses that
harbored murderers. In one sense, those drawings are reminiscent of the Golden
Age mysteries that contained maps or layouts of buildings. Those drawings were
never the focus of the story. They were visual aids. Uketsu’s renderings are
vital to the story.
I question that
Uketsu uses “conventional prose.” In fact, there is little prose for most of
the book. Instead, there’s lots of dialogue that is presented in a format
reminiscent of a play minus stage directions.
As for setting,
yes, the book is about houses, but they are explored as architectural
renderings or through dialogue, not as environments occupied by characters.
The story begins
when a friend calls the unidentified narrator—is he Uketsu?—to say he’s
considering buying a house. However there’s something odd about it. It has an
inaccessible space in the kitchen, a space that could not possibly serve any
purpose. The friend is wisely leery about moving in any time soon.
The narrator
agrees to investigate. He doesn’t put on his deerstalker hat and grab a
magnifying glass. No. He calls Kurihara, “a draughtsman with a prestigious
architectural firm.” Through Kurihara’s amazing powers of deduction, the
narrator learns that many other aspects of the house are weird. The strangest
aspect of all is that it’s a charnel house.
I’m positive
Kurihara will never replace Sherlock Holmes as the world’s most beloved
detective. Sherlock was a genius, but he worked to solve his capers. Kurihara,
on the other hand, has an uncanny ability to discover a house’s secrets by
simply looking at its layout. He never tests his hypotheses, and he’s never in
doubt. If he were a professional baseball player, his end-of-season batting
average would be one thousand. Not even the Babe achieved that record.
Back to that
inaccessible space. Kurihara quickly determines its use without considering and
rejecting other possibilities. For example, maybe the husband wanted a
dumbwaiter so he wouldn’t have to carry his late-night snacks upstairs. Or the
wife wanted shelves for her cookbooks and changed her mind. Kurihara simply
knows the space’s purpose.
Armed with
Kurihara’s insight, the narrator, a freelance writer, does what any writer in
that circumstance would do. He writes an article about the strange house his
friend is leery of buying.
And then a body
is found. Missing a left hand.
Yuzuki Miyae,
the wife of the dead man, approaches the narrator. With her input, the narrator
connects the house to the Katabuchi family. A series of houses and the gruesome
details of that family’s curse begin to unfold.
It was difficult
to keep all the names straight. Many begin with the same letter, which can be
confusing even when the names are familiar. At least Kurihara is not a member
of the Katabuchi family. The friend who got the ball rolling at the beginning
of the story is Yanaoka. Yuzuki’s mother is Yoshie. It’s enough to make a
reader yell, “Try some other letters of the alphabet.”
Strange Houses, as much as it
examines anything, examines what happens when a family believes it’s been
cursed and must go to extremes to maintain its status. Uketsu likes to pepper
his work with drawings. It would have been beneficial if he’d included one
more, a road map so the reader could keep straight all the Katabuchi
generations and their efforts to save the family’s status. He piled twist upon
twist to tie up all the loose ends. By the time I approached the finale, I
needed a stiff drink.
Strange Houses was translated
by Jim Rion. The cover states that it is “the chilling Japanese mystery
sensation.” I wouldn’t describe it as chilling. I’m not sure it qualifies as a
mystery sensation either. It’s all talk and little action. The narrator and
Kurihara never step foot in one of those strange houses. Kurihara’s analysis of
those architectural drawings is pretty much the sum and substance of the
detecting. The great reveal is a long narration. The many twists at the end
were a bit overwhelming.
I’m glad I read Houses.
It’s an intriguing writing experiment of how far an author can go and still
maintain reader interest. And sell enough copies to make most writers jealous.
Readers who like the unusual will enjoy this book. More conventional readers
might find it annoying.
Amazon Associate Purchase Link: https://amzn.to/4sC5BND
Paula Messina ©2026
Paula Messina is writing an historical mystery set in Boston’s North End. Donatello Laguardia, the WIP’s main character, solves crimes in Devil’s Snare and Snakeberry. Her contemporary fiction appears in Black Cat Weekly, The Ekphrastic Review, THEMA, and Wolfsbane. And yes, her Donatello Laguardia stories have recurring characters.
Sunday, March 08, 2026
Joan Leotta Reviews: Death Times Seven: A Daniel Pitt Novel by Anne Perry and Victoria Zackheim
Death
Times Seven: A Daniel Pitt Novel (Book 7 of 7 in the series)
by Anne Perry and Victoria Zackheim
Publication
Date: Apr 14, 2026
Available
in Kindle, HB, ($30) and Paper
ISBN#: 978-0593982518
Published
by Ballantine Books
Pages: 288
in HB
Review
by Joan Leotta
Imagine
that you’ve been out of touch with an old friend for a while and then,
unexpectedly, you meet again. That’s how I felt about reading the newest Daniel
Pitt mystery from the pen of the late great Anne Perry. I’m a hardcore Perry
fan—all of her series. Several of the lines ran their course naturally, but the
Daniel Pitt series and the Elena Standish series have young protagonists, so it
was harder to say good-by to them when news of Perry’s death was published.
However, it seems that before her death she entrusted Daniel and his wife Miriam and the other regulars of this series which follows the young lawyer and wife in their quest for justice for individuals and for society as a whole, in the early twentieth century. By allowing Victoria Zackheim, a close friend as well as an editor to finish this book she has given us a gift from beyond the grave, a legacy of words.
Death
Times Seven takes place in 1913 England. Daniel is asked to take over (mid
-trial) for a more senior person in the law firm, fellow attorney, Toby
Kitteridge, who had to leave London upon learning of the sudden brutal attack
on his parents in their parsonage—mother dead, accused father.
Miriam
Ifford Croft (Daniel’s wife), of course, as always, has much to offer, helping
Daniel to defend the hapless Peter Ward, the client, whose innocence it seems
was only believed by Kitteridge and then herself and Daniel. As the two cases
develop, we are given entry to the courts as the trial proceeds as well as to
the workings of forensic pathology in that era. New evidence surfaces. We are
also party to the mystery in the countryside where Toby is valiantly trying to help
his father recover and clear the cleric’s name. Daniel travels out to the
countryside to help his friend. It’s a satisfying dual mystery, well plotted,
character driven, and full of excitement.
I’m
often wary of these posthumous additions to a series. But this one is a true
gem. Zackheim has seamlessly woven whatever part of the story she was to
finish.
How
did she do it? From a reader’s standpoint, plot and structure are well done.
But what brands this book as a piece true to Perry is the way the characters
are handled, particularly young Daniel. As I was reading the book, reserving
judgment as I traversed the paragraphs, I was confronted with a scene that made
me realize the depth of Zackheim’s commitment to the sharing the character of
Daniel as Perry had oft portrayed him---she sets a scene where Daniel cuts off
a thick slice of bread and slathers it with butter (jam in another place) and
eats it as much as for its comfort as for its value as sustenance.
This
gesture, one that defines Daniel as a man who enjoys the simple things, is typical
of Perry and the particular gesture is one that reminds us of Daniel’s youth
and even harks back to the time when we knew him as a boy in the William and
Charlotte Pitt (his parents) series. I could not stop reading it. Stayed up all
night, not wanting to miss any part of it. Will likely read it a second time
for the shear enjoyment of the language and to say goodbye once more to these
characters. I suppose ending with the seventh is a series is fitting since
seven is considered one of the perfect numbers, but I would certainly not be averse
to reading number eight, even if wholly penned by Zackheim.
But
if this is the end, the last new novel by Perry to read, it is certainly a
fitting tribute to her talent and her love of the characters she has created
and we, her loyal readers, have come to know and love.
My
electronic copy came from a reading service. I’m already on the wait list at my
local library; I’d like to hold the hardback in my hand to read. Definitely one
of my top three books so far this year.
Amazon
Associate Purchase Link: https://amzn.to/4bbv3Cw
Joan Leotta ©2026
Joan
Leotta plays with words on page and stage. Her poetry, essays, cnf, short
stories, and articles are widely published. Mysteries are favorite things to
read.. short and long.. and to write.











