The Lady in the Morgue by Jonathan Latimer (Pan, 1959)

Another piece of loot from my Lifeline Bookfair crime spree:

Lively DEATH

PRIVATE EYE, WILLIAM CRANE, juggles with the identity of one dead blonde and sundry live ones, cuts grim mortuary capers over a volcano of violence and reminds us that there's no place--in crime fiction--like Chicago!

"Hardboiled" would be the only word to describe this book.  The plot involves a stolen corpse, competing gangsters and a murdered morgue attendant (you can see the murderer bringing down a cosh on the poor guy's head to the right of the cover.)   Oh yes, and there are sundry Dangerous Dames floating about the story (including a group of taxi dancers in a sleazy dance hall.)

In brief: generic but fun!

Tibetan Journey by George N. Patterson (Readers Book Club, 1956)

Someone must have taken a keen interest in Tibet, around 1956.  I found this in the Green Shed along with Seven Years in Tibet:

When the Chinese Communists broke into Tibet, George N. Patterson was engaged in missionary work there--a labor of love.  He had to leave in a hurry, and, for vitally important reasons, made a dash for India.  Yet, despite the urgency of his Tibetan Journey - which maintains a throb of excitement all through the book - the author succeeds in presenting a magnificent picture of a superb, secretive and little-known land, with its hair-raising perils, strange customs, and tough, quaint, "earthy" people.

It's strange to think that Tibet is now a tourist destination!  This book was written when travelling to Tibet was the Real Deal--something that only the most hardy and the most adventurous would undertake.  It's not a romantic account of the country (indeed, the author expresses scorn for the "Shangri-La" fantasies some people have about Tibet).  It makes no bones about describing the hardship and poverty the author encountered.  However--and this is Tibetan Journey's best feature--the author never treats any of the people he meets as anything less than individuals.  The book's blurb may describe the Tibetans as "quaint", the author most certainly does not!

The Case of the Fan Dancer's Horse by Erle Stanley Gardner (WDL Books, 1959)

If you find a couple of ostrich-plume fans and a pair of white dancing slippers and advertise it in a "Found" column, you don't expect to receive a reply about a lost horse.  Yet that was what happened to Perry Mason after he and Della Street had witnessed a car accident.  It was amusing, intriguing, yet very deadly - particularly deadly.

But then he is visited by John Callender, who says he is acting on behalf of "Cherie Chi-Chi", a fan dancer.  And hot on his heels comes Mr. Arthur Sheldon, also trying to claim possession of the horse.

So it appears there is a horse!  That maybe... but there is certainly one of the most beautiful clients Perry Mason has ever had, and presently, there is also a corpse, attached to a Japanese sword.

The fan dancer is very much in evidence on the cover.  Not so her horse!

(Actually, the case involves two fan dancers, and the fan dancers' fans play a more of a role in the plot than the horse.  Never mind--The Case of the Fan Dancer's Horse is a thoroughly entertaining little mystery.  It's one of the earlier Perry Mason books too, so it isn't quite as by-the-numbers as later works in this series!)

Head of a Traveller by Nicholas Blake (Fontana, 1962)

Yet another prize from my Lifeline Bookfair Crime Spree!

 

They found the body in the Thames--the head, weeks later, in a string bag hanging on a tree.

 Short and sweet--and oh, boy, doesn't it make you want to read more!

Mind you, the blurb makes the book appear more hardboiled and gritty than it is.  And if it had been published in America, and started with the discovery of a headless corpse floating in the Hudson or San Francisco Bay, this book probably would be that kind of detective story.  One would expect the hero (either a jaded PI or a world-weary cop) to track the murderer through the mean back streets of the city, encountering various underworld types along the way.   However, Head of a Traveller was written by a British author, and the detective is a gentleman amateur who tracks the murderer to the country estate of a poet!

Seven Years in Tibet by Heinrich Harrer (Pan, 1956)

A rather battered copy of the classic travel book, found in a corner of the Green Shed:

 

SEVEN YEARS IN TIBET has been described as 'the greatest travel book of our time'.  Yet even this comendation does not do justice to the unique experiences which it unfolds.  No European has ever before penetrated into that inaccessible land in such strange circumstances, or has succeeded in staying there so long.  Heinrich Harrer, well known Austrian mountaineer and Olympic ski-ing champion, was climbing in the Himalayas when caught by the outbreak of war, and was interned by the British in India.  With a companion, he escaped at his third attempt and crossed the Himalayas into Tibet.  After many desolate marches and strange adventures, they reached the Forbidden City of Lhasa, where they were eventually allowed to remain and earn a living.  They found the traditional insularity of Tibet leavened with a new appetite for Western knowledge and ideas.  Their fame quickly spread.  Soon they were in great demand as advisers on many subjects on which they knew little.  The day came when Harrer was presented to the young Dalai Lama, the god-king; he became the boy's friend and tutor and was permitted a degree of intimacy which awed the people and worried the religious hierarchy.  After the War's end, Harrer stayed on, but when Communist China invaded Tibet he accompanied the Dalai Lama in flight to India, and then returned sadly to Europe.  His remarkable account of his experiences is illustrated with a number of his fine photographs.  A film of this book has been made by Seven League Productions, with Harrer himself playing the chief part.

There's really not a lot I can add to this detailed description--except Seven Years in Tibet was made into a movie again in 1997, this time starring Brad Pitt.

Invanders of Space by Murray Leinster (Tandem, 1968)

Another book found rummaging around the dusty shelves of The Green Shed:

 

Things were quiet that night in the space port.  Then the 'Theban' arrived without warning, bringing with it a surly crew, led by a blustering captain, Larson...

The 'Theban' was old, propelled by a totally obsolescent interplanetary drive.  The only way Larson could get it off the ground was to kidnap the young engineer, Horn, who he hoped could at least manage to keep the ship in flight until it reached its final rendezvous.

Their destination was the spaceship 'Danae'--a ship loaded with millions in space credit notes.  If Horn wanted to save the 'Danae' from the onslaughts of the space invaders, he had his work cut out for him...

"Space Invaders".  I'd had hopes that this was based on the video game, but it was in fact about space pirates. It's a workmanlike story by an author who began his career back in the 1910s.

Unfortunately, the cover doesn't convey the idea of "space pirates" at all.   The astronauts in this picture could be doing anything out there: exploring, making necessary repairs to their ship, sightseeing.  I get the impression the artist came up with this generic painting after hearing the word "space" in his commission, and not bothering learn anything more!

The Ringer by Edgar Wallace (Pan, 1957)

More Edgar Wallace.  This one was found in The Green Shed:

 

THE RINGER, considered by many Wallace 'fans' to be the best of his thrillers, tells of a killer known by this name, whose exploits had terrified London--such a master of disguise that the police had never been able to circulate a description of him.  Mixed up with the Ringer was a tricky lawyer of Deptford, Maurice Meister.  Now young Detective-Inspector Alan Wembury is taking over the Deptford police division, and is hoping to marry Mary Lenley, who has recently become Meister's secretary.  News comes that The Ringer, who had been traced to Australia and was reported dead, is back in London.  Meister will be his next victim, for he left his sister in Meister's charge and her body was found in the Thames.  Soon a gaunt stranger is shadowing the frightened lawyer, who seeks police protection. Wembury is involved in an affair of extreme difficulty, complicated by the fact that Mary's brother, ruined by association with criminals, is jailed for robbery--and Meister knows more of this than he will admit.  Moreover, the unpopular, bearded Inspector Bliss, just returned from America, is working along his own lines to solve the problem.  Who is The Ringer?  It will be a clever reader who can spot him before the very end of the story.

With a summary that detailed, it's hardly necessary to read the book!  And given we're talking about Edgar Wallace here, probably just as entertaining.  Just skip to the last chapter to find out who actually was The Ringer.

(Edgar Wallace was a best seller in his day, but his books have dated woefully.  However they were reprinted often--well into the middle of last century.  Delightful paperbacks like this one turn up quite regularly on charity stalls and in junk shops, so expect to see a few of them featuring on my blog!)