Smart dialogue and a sour family. Brownstones revisited

And Dangerous to Know by Elizabeth Daly 

published 1949

The Book of the Crime by Elizabeth Daly 

published 1951

 

 

There are still a few such rows of old brownstone houses on the upper East Side in New York, some in bad repair. But among these relics there are still living fossils, private residences with well-swept doorways, where window boxes bloom all spring and summer; people like the Dunbars live in them, people who have a strong attachment to the past and dislike change and novelty.

 

I mentioned her in my last post, and I haven’t yet met an Elizabeth Daly book I didn’t enjoy – there’s a couple on the blog – and now I am spinning them out because she didn’t write that many, and I don’t want to run out. I saw this one mentioned in a thread on ‘surprising murderers’ which was enough to make me use up another one: It’s one I hadn’t read before. It wasn’t easy to get hold of, but worth the effort.

The much-missed Noah Stewart (RIP) identified a category of crime books as ‘brownstone mysteries’ and you could see exactly what he meant – New York setting, probably 1930s-50s, wealthy families, young women tripping in and out, up and down the steps, eating out in Manhattan restaurants, martinis and cigarettes going all the time…. You can sigh and sink into it. (the brownstone above, from the US National Archives, is in Brooklyn, but seems like a good approximation) Smart dialogue and a sour family.

And boy, Noah would have loved this one, the very epitome of a brownstone story, a dysfunctional family and a fizzing mystery. Alice Dunbar left her relatives behind in the brownstone, walked out and disappeared. She had a dull life, tied to her parents, every minute accounted for. So what has happened to her?

Series sleuth Henry Gamadge (amateur investigator, book expert) is on the scene and is soon investigating at full throttle, chasing round Manhattan like nobody’s business. I NEVER complain about this, but there were rather too many full descriptions of what he was wearing – but it became clear later that this was part of his enquiries and staying anonymous.

What happened to Alice is  intriguing and complex, and to be honest I found the ending a little bit disappointing – NOT because of the solution, which was brilliant and unexpected, but because it wasn’t fully explained or spelled out. I went back to re-read several times to try to work out exactly what happened, and I STILL don’t know what the key remark was that someone made…

But that didn’t stop me enjoying every dynamite minute, particularly the long section set in a hotel where Alice’s sister (widowed so allowed much more freedom) lives – the suave guests collecting in her suite, the entertainment in the public rooms below – it’s the supper-and-dance room - the beautifully imagined band playing for the rich guests, the glass window-doors out into the garden…

‘What’s the sister like?’

‘Jazz and men.’

There’s a hilarious thread running through about one of the characters, a pompous old bore who is obviously the worst guest ever: Henry knows he will be in dire trouble with his wife if he lets the man into their life and house.

‘If he ever got a foothold in a house he kept it for ever; he was an old-fashioned caller and dropper-in, famous for getting past sentries, paralysing parties, out-staying everybody, exhausting his hosts.’

 

The seven-piece band came on the platform, natty in their white coats and dark- blue trousers; Osterbridge sat down at the piano. Then Bishop appeared, cast a serene glance over the audience, favoure it with the attractive smile and a  half-salute with his baton… He pointed the baton languidly in the direction of the bass fiddle… and the band was in full swing…

The dance ended and Miss Bean came on stage and sang…

 

Oh the joy.

 And then I read another Daly book – The Book of the Crime, with a remarkably similar setting and some similarities of setup: the same pictures work for both. It is readable enough, and very short. It has elements - mysterious women and wives - in common with the Dangerous to Know,  which I probably preferred as more substantial  but also because of the hotel and the dance/supper club. The Book of the Crime did have a strange connections with a recent theme on the blog, and a very specific real-life case from the past  - but I can’t mention that as it is a giveaway. Don’t follow the links if you don’t want to know….

 The wonderful Gottlieb collection held at the Library of Congress is always the goto for any scenes of jazz and evening people in New York in that era…

The suggestions for men’s formal clothes come from the NYPL