FFB: Night Screams by Bill Pronzini and Barry N. Malzberg

I hadn't heard of Bill Pronzini till a few weeks back. But as he turned seventy, his birthday was celebrated in the blogosphere and a particular FFB featured a few of his books. [Very graciously, Pronzini  thanked everyone for the good-wishes]. As I read enthusiastic reviews of his work, I realised that here was one author I had to read. Unfortunately though the libraries I frequent don't seem to stock his books and the only one that I could lay my hands on was a book that he wrote jointly with Barry N. Malzberg: Night Screams.

The beginning was not promising. A young woman has visions about a murder being committed. This was too much like Dean Koontz' The Vision, a book that I suffered last year. My enthusiasm for the book got slightly punctured.

 Leslie Abbot is a painter who is also a clairvoyant and  has lately been having visions about people being murdered. She not only witnesses them being strangled but also feels their terror, and echoes of their screams reverberate in her mind. On top of it, she recognises the victims and feels that she knows their murderer too. A faceless figure whom she paints.

The murdered people are part of a group called PSYCHICs. (The Parapsychological Society: Yankees Clairavoyants in Humanistic Ideological Concord). The founding member of the group, Oscar Koskovich is a troubled man. He feels that two of the members: Tony Murray and Sandra Harris have died because of the fact that they were members of PSYCHICs and he feels guilty of having ever brought them together. He calls the remaining members of the group: Gloria Mason, Neal Iverson, Jo Turner, and Leslie Abbot for a meeting to discuss the situation. They check in at an inn in Whitehall where Leslie stays, much to her dismay as the people in that particular community do not like Psychics. She has already been receiving anonymous threatening calls. As they discuss the situation however, tensions amongst the group members - who have little in common - surface. Neal is of the opinion that somebody with a hatred of psychics is killing the members while Jo feels that somebody from their own group is behind the killings.

Meanwhile, the FBI enters in the form of two agents: Brad Saxon and Stan Walker. It seems that a bureaucratic agent by the name of Morris Evers has disappeared. Since Evers was the cousin of the murdered woman, Sandra, the FBI feels there is a connect between her murder and his disappearance. I reacted with dismay as Saxon made his way towards Whitehall - unconventionally handsome with a quiet determination not to mention a troubled past - it was predictable (yawn) that he would fall for our troubled heroine - attractive, sensible, vulnerable yet strong. More killings occur and though our hero pledges that he'd safe-guard the strong yet vulnerable Leslie, one does not have to be a psychic to know that at the last moment he'd be way-laid/ knocked-out and our vulnerable yet strong heroine will have to face the terror of the murdrer all alone.

Despite these cliches -I do not know whether these were cliches when the book was published (1979) - the book is an okay read with a balance between horror and humour. Neal with his psychic birds provides many  funny situations but there is also an understated humour as in this scene:

Colebrook came over beside him. "Mr. Walker ask you a question?"

"Go right ahead."

"How long you planning to stay on here?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"On when we decide to leave."

Colebrook pursed his lips. "Haven't seen your partner around since breakfast," he said. "He out on FBI business or something?"

"Or something."

"Be back pretty soon, will he?"

"Soon enough. Anything more you'd like to know?"

"Seems a man ought to be told what's going on inside his own hotel," Colebrook said stiffly. "Particular when there's government agents and murder involved."

"What do you know about murder, Mr. Colebrook?"

A vague look of alarm came into the innkeeper's eyes. "I don't know nothing about it."

"Then why don't we keep it that way?" Walker said and went away from him and up to the second floor.

Or in other words DO NOT MESS with the FBI.

Over all, I wasn't too disappointed with the book but going by the reviews I don't think this is Pronzini's better ones either.

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.At a point in the text, Abbot and Saxon listen to Louis Armstrong over dinner. Having only a vague idea of Armstrong and intrigued by a song called 'Muggles', I went over to You Tube and listened to it:

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First Line: In the darkness, using the beam of his flashlight to guide him, he moved at a measured pace through the marshland.

Title: Night Screams

Authors: Bill Pronzini and Barry N. Malzberg

Publication Details: NY: Playboy Paperbacks, 1981

First Published: 1979

Pages: 300

Other Books read of the same author: None

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Kindle edition of the book is being offered at Amazon. I borrowed mine from H.M. Library at Fountain. [F.P 89]

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Submitted for the following challenges: 52 Books in 52 Weeks, 2013 Genre Variety, 2013 Mystery/ Crime, Let Me Count the Ways, Library Books, New Authors, Reading Outside the Box.

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Entry for Friday's Forgotten Books, today at Todd Mason's blog Sweet Freedom.

Their Fate is not the only consideration: Remembering Sukhdev on his birth-anniversary

"Since your compromise you have called off your movement and consequently all of your movement and consequently all of your prisoners have been released. But, what about the revolutionary prisoners? Dozens of Ghadar Party prisoners imprisoned since 1915 are still rotting in jails; in spite of having undergone the full terms of their imprisonments scores of martial law prisoners are still buried in these living tombs, and so are dozens of Babbar Akali prisoners. Deogarh, Kakori, Machhua Bazar and Lahore Conspiracy Case prisoners are amongst those numerous still locked behind bars. More than half a dozen conspiracy trials are going on at Lahore, Delhi, Chittagong, Bombay, Calcutta and elsewhere. Dozens of revolutionaries are absconding and amongst them are many females. More than half a dozen prisoners are actually waiting for their executions. What about all of these people? The three Lahore Conspiracy Case condemned prisoners, who have luckily come into prominence and who have acquired enormous public sympathy, do not form the bulk of the revolutionary party. Their fate is not the only consideration before the party. As a matter of fact their executions are expected to do greater good than the commutation of their sentences...."


Thoughts of a man on his birth anniversary:

Sukhdev: 15th May, 1907 - 23rd March, 1931

Reading Challenge 26: South Asian

Rather late in the day but I am signing up for the 2013 version of the South Asian Challenge hosted by S. Krishna. Details can be found over here.

Forgotten Book: The Last Labyrinth by Arun Joshi

Relationships are often complex, holding the men and women involved in a vortex of emotions. Som Bhaskar, the protagonist of Arun Joshi's prize-winning novel The Last Labyrinth, seems to have it all: a beautiful, sensible wife; two adorable children; education at the world’s finest universities; an industrial empire; millions in the bank; every conceivable luxury…and yet. And yet, Bhaskar hankers for more. An insatiable hunger for more drives him. He tries to satiate it by ruthlessly crushing competition, taking over more companies, getting into affairs, and yet the cry resounds in his ears: I want. I want. I want. I want....

And then he meets Anuradha. Wife of business-man Aftab Rai, whose business Bhaskar is about to take over, Anuradha in Bhaskar's eyes is like a tall, handsome, ruined monument. Obsolete, he thinks she is. And yet, she gets into his blood. He thinks that if he is able to possess her, he'll be able to get her out of his system. The affair does happen but instead of being ejected, Anuradha becomes an obsession, a drug he cannot live without. His marriage falls apart, his business starts suffering loses, his well-wishers caution him against Anuradha and yet he cannot let her go..... And Aftab Rai's business does not get taken over. A maze of truths, half-truths, and lies holds the protagonists in its web.

If the summary makes it sound like a cheap thriller, the book is certainly not that. Strongly reminiscent of Graham Greene's The End of the Affair, the book lingers with one. There are certain haunting passages like the one in   the dargah of Hazrat Nizammudin Aulia where the transience of wealth and power is discussed, or the Lal Haveli with its blue room, its sarcophagus, and its labyrinth, or the circular chamber of the temple high up on the hills where secrets unfold. And how often in books do you come across Begum Akhtar's singing?

I had heard a lot about Arun Joshi who is considered one of India's foremost literary figures but had never read him. But after reading this book I am convinced of his mastery. This extract (read somewhere) had gripped me like nothing else and put this book on my wishlist:

Why is the sea so grey here? It is blue down in Goa and bluer still on the coast of Ceylon. They have a city by her name over there. Anuradhapura. A city of ruins. I was sent there once by my father - to negotiate deals. I tried to know the prices of things, the structure of discounts. They only talked of Nirvana and that other visitor, the Royal Bhikku, Mahinda, Ashoka's messanger, and how when he spoke in King Tissa's Court the Emperor wept. So did the courtiers. The Sakyamuni, the Tathagata, still lived among them, I was told, which meant some one had beat me to the contract. I couldn't care less. I drank all the way back thinking of what I had read on a board beside a spiky monument. 'There are beings who perish through not knowing the Dhamma' said the battered board. 'Go Ye forth, O Bhikkus, and proclaim the Dhamma. There will be some who will understand....' Flying past Madurai I thought yes, there must be some, somewhere, who understood. But where? And giving up, I drank all the more. At Santa Cruz, amidst the din of the customs, my father said, "You should not have drunk so much. What after all is a contract?"

"It is not the contract, " I said.

"What is it then?"

I told him.

He put his hand on my shoulder and looked into my eyes, his face flushed with emotion and embarrassment. A week later he was dead, of a heart attack, between four and five in the morning, according to K.

I was twenty five and a millionaire.

If you like books with philosophical questions about life, the purpose of this world, and the unrelenting yearning to find something meaningful than go for this book. And even if not, than go for this book for certain evocative passages that will linger long in your memory.

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First Line: Above all, I have a score to settle.

Title: The Last Labyrinth

Author: Arun Joshi

Publication Details: ND: Vision Books, 1981.

First Published: 1981

Pages: 224

Trivia: The novel won the Sahitya Akademi award in the Best Novel in English category.

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Having recently been republished, the book is easily available on the Net. I borrowed it from the College Library [ 823.93 AJ ].

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Submitted for the following challenges: 52 Books in 52 Weeks, 2013 Mystery/ Crime, Classics Reading, Let Me Count the Ways, New Authors, South Asian, Wishlist.

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Entry for Friday's Forgotten Books.

Forgotten Books: The Affair at Aliquid and Burglars in Bucks by G.D.H and Margaret Cole

G.D.H Cole and Margaret Cole were serious minded people. Conscientious Objectors to wars, economists,  political theorists, and members of the Fabian Society, they wrote on such weighty subjects as labour and trade unionism  wages and work conditions, war and its impact on society; but they also had a light-hearted side that made them write wrote mystery novels dealing with murders and burglaries. This fortnight I was lucky enough to read two of their books.

Burglars in Bucks, first published in 1930, deals with a burglary that takes place at the estate of Peter Gurney, a genial man, single-handedly bringing up his rather temperamental daughter, Maura Gurney. As the girl is coming-of-age, Gurney intends throwing up a grand party for her. Amongst the many guests invited for the same are Sir Hiram Watkins who with his pasty face and fat belly looks like the caricaturists' idea of a war profiteer and his wife Doris who carries jewellery as though the good Baronet had laid out all his war's gains in jewellery and was using his wife as a temporary show-room - and certainly it's a roomy one; Jerry Wynn, a young man quite the comedian, letting off the most impossibly bad jokes at everybody, particularly at the War Profiteer; Chris Neverne, a sensible young woman who is a gym-instructress at a school, and has a private twinkle in her eye. There is also a shady couple: Captain and Mrs. Schumacher who have been invited since they are said to carry a tame sort of spook about with them. I looked at them hard, but they didn't seem to have it concealed about their persons.

These interesting descriptions are courtesy Everard Blatchington who is also one among the invitees and writes long letters to his wife regarding his fellow guests and their nefarious activities. The letters add to the charm of the novel because the Coles have not written the book in the usual style - employing a straight-forward narrative but have rather allowed a multiplicity of view-points. The plot moves forward from letters, newspaper reports, telephonic conversations, telegrams, interviews etc. The challenge is to present things as they appear -in a strict chronological order- and let the readers solve the case before the detective (Superintendent Wilson of the New Scotland Yard) does so.

To go back to the story, a seance is held and Mrs. Schumacher's poltergeist plays havoc. The same night a thief enters the Manor and takes away a number of valuable jewels and ornaments, among them the prized Pallant Emeralds which was presented to Charles II by an official of the East India Company, though history, perhaps wisely, does not say whence he obtained it. It consists of a triple row of the rarest square-cut emeralds, set in a filagree silver and platinum setting of the finest old Hindu work, and the clasp is of pearls and diamonds, the latter themselves of no mean value....

From then on it is a veritable merry-go-round.,,,

As always I looked for historical pointers to the period and found a number of references to the empire as Captain Schumacher was in army service in India. Mrs. Schumacher was apparently given this ability to conjure up a poltergeist by an old woman in Agra. The couple moved from Calcutta and Bombay in India to Cairo and Damascus. There is also a news broadcast about floods in Baluchistan.

Incidentally, the image of the burglar on the jacket of the book reminded me strongly of a similar kind of costume (dark glasses, cap) worn by Indian actor Manoj Kumar in his flick, Dus Numbari. Have a look:

If Burglars in Bucks is delightful, the couple's other book The Affair at Aliquid is also a pleasure to read. Perhaps it was hugely popular too because the printing history shows it going for a second impression in the same month of its first printing: September, 1933.

The Duke of Aliquid is a gentle soul ready to help everybody. Thus when he receives a letter from David Rogers detailing the objective of his People's Picture Agency - to equip the schools and colleges of great Britain with pictures, maps, charts, and other educational appliances - and asking for the Duke's help in endorsing these products, the Duke is more than willing. Also David Rogers is no ordinary soul, he is the missionary who carried the light of enlightenment to all those benighted souls in dark Africa. The Duke not only promises to help but also invites the Reverend to his estate at Aliquid.

Only the duke - poor fellow- got a little confused because this David Rogers just shares his name with the great missionary. What follows is a mad-cap of a novel in which Rogers arrives at the castle only to find that he has to play the role of a clergyman. His foray into things religious begins with a crime as he steals the clothes of the local parson. Needless to add, there is very soon a burglary in the Duke's house and David has to keep his wits about him to get out of the jam. Things do not improve with the arrival of his female companion Dorothy who by no stretch of imagination looks like the wife of a missionary. She is also one of those lucky mortals whose mouths do not come wide open when they go to sleep in the train.

Throw in the mix, scenes like a parson accusing another clergyman of having stolen his trousers:

"Give me back my trousers," he said. "I want my trousers."

Mr. Summerhaye's tones were so loud and so menacing that the rest of the house party could not possibly help taking notice of the incident....

"What's all this about trousers?" said a middle-aged man of military appearance  "I knew a man once who had a pair of check trousers so loud that the flies used to play chess on them. Ha, ha."

He realised that his little joke had fallen flat and stared in perplexity from face to face. The Duke came up. He had been at the other end of the room and had not noticed what had been going on.

"Ah, Summerhaye," he said. "I do hope you and Rogers have been having an interesting talk. You have so much in common."

"Including trousers apparently," said a high female voice, ending the sentence with a screech of merriment. there was a general titter.

Or gaffes at the dinner, like this:

But Miss Perks was not destined to explain at that moment about the ghosts she saw, for her next door neighbour on the farther side - a large red-faced man who had hitherto been too much occupied with eating to join in the conversation - was at this point roused to activity, and had a big blusterous voice which effectively drowned Miss Perk's.

"Molly," he bawled across her to the Duchess, under the apparent belief that he was speaking in a whisper, "who the devil's that woman on Humphrey's left?"

"My dear Percy," said the Duchess in a carefully lowered tone, "that is Lady Snodgrass. You've met her before."

"Oh, the Snodgrass. She's looking a lot older," Percy bawled, "and even uglier than she used to."

His first remark by its loudness had produced one of those sudden general silences in the midst of which you can hear a pin drop, and into this silence his last remark fell with a sickening thud. (60)

Or younger sons who appear in public in scarlet silk pyjamas:

"My dear Pat, why should I bother to dress?...You know I can never sleep a wink in these beastly trains, and I mean to go to bed again as soon as I get home. I don't see any reason why I shouldn't drive out in pyjamas if I prefer. The local johnies go about in kilts, so why not pyjamas for a change... (117)


Or bishops who are very affectionate towards young ladies:

The Bishop patted her softly on the shoulder, then he took her little hand in his large flabby paw.

"Now, my dear," he said, "there's no need to be offended with me. What I meant was you didn't seem just the sort of person one expects to be the wife of a missionary."

"Wife of a missionary!" Dorothy began, with every intention of indignantly repudiating the suggestion. But just in time there came over her the vision of David in clerical dress. Good Lord, she wondered, whatever had David been up to now. She stopped the denial on the tip of her tongue.

"I'm sure I don't see why not," she said. "One has to be all things to all men, hasn't one? - especially bishops. If you're very nice and behave yourself perhaps I'll talk to you again some time, but now if you aren't good, so you'd better be careful. And now let go of my hand. There's somebody coming."

The Bishop let go just as Mrs. Patricroft, the house-keeper, appeared on the scene. He retreated into his room in some disorder, under her shark-like eyes.

What was a little surprising for me in the book was - I won't say promiscuity - but a certain open-mindedness about having affairs and flings. The young people in the book have no qualms about talking about or entering into a physical relationship just like that. I had no idea that British society in the 1930s was so accepting about these matters.

However, what startled me was a sentence somewhere near the end of the book when a small boy suddenly uses an abusive term for an elderly lady: The coasts's clear. I've got the old bitch out of the way.

This was startling because it was totally against the general mood of the book. Suddenly the boy turned from a mischievous imp to somebody who needed to have his mouth washed with soap. It certainly left a bad taste in my mouth.

Just wondering: the Coles wrote about labour and the working class and yet in these two books they depict the ( rather frivolous  upper class, with almost a Wodehousian flavour. Letting off steam? Whatever the reason, read them if you get a chance.  I am looking forward to reading more of them.




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First Line: Dear Sir, - I am writing you this letter because I understand your Society is interested in all questions about the occult and ready to investigate them: but I ought to say, before I begin, that it is a purely personal letter.

Title: Burglars in Bucks

Alternate Title: The Berkshire Mystery

Authors: G.D.H Cole and Margaret Cole

Publication Details: London: Collins, 1930

First Published: 1930

Pages: 255

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Opening Lines: The Duke of Aliquid's hobby in life was philanthropy. He was an ardent supporter of almost every cause devoted to the relief of suffering or to the uplift of the human race. His big sprawling signature was familiar to all those who are accustomed to receive begging letters, and most of them had learnt long ago to throw straight into the waste-paper basket all appeals which bore his name.

Title: The Affair at Aliquid

Authors: G.D.H and Margaret Cole

Publication Details: London: Collins, 1933. [The Crime Club]

First Published: 1933

Pages: 285

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The books might be available at second-hand book stores or libraries. I borrowed them from HM Library at Fountain.

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Submitted for the following challenges: 52 Books in 52 Weeks, 2013 Genre Variety, 2013 Mystery/ Crime, British Books, Criminal Plots III, Let Me Count the Ways, Library Books, New Authors, Vintage Mystery

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Entry for Friday's Forgotten Books.

Book Beginnings and Friday 56

Book Beginnings on Friday is a weekly meme sponsored by Rose City Reader where one shares the beginning of a book.

Here's mine:

The Duke of Aliquid's hobby in life was philanthropy. He was an ardent supporter of almost every cause devoted to the relief of suffering or to the uplift of the human race. His big sprawling signature was familiar to all those who are accustomed to receive begging letters, and most of them had learnt long ago to throw straight into the waste-paper basket all appeals which bore his name.

The Friday 56 is a weekly meme hosted by Freda's Voice in which one shares a couple of lines from page 56 of any book.

Here's mine:

"I have always understood, "said Miss Perks, "that it is wisest for missionaries to be married because of the black women. What do you think Mr. Rogers?"

"Oh, much best," said David, "though, of course - "

"I know perfectly well what you are going to say," said Miss Perks, "and I don't agree in the least. What I always maintain is that clergymen and even missionaries are no different from other men. And the effect of hot climates in stimulating the passions is notorious. So a wife is a necessity, though not always, I fear, an adequate safeguard. Don't you agree?"

"I suppose it depends a bit on the wife," said David.


Interested in reading the book even as the Duke goes on helping others and Miss Perks goes on worrying about the morals of clergymen, and the effects of hot weather? Get a copy of The Affair at Aliquid by G.D.H and Margaret Cole.

Forgotten Book: Maigret Loses His Temper by Georges Simenon

Jules Maigret is the creation of Belgian writer, Georges Simenon, who made his first appearance in Pietr-le-Leton. Between 1931 and 1972, he appeared in some 100 odd novels and short stories. He has also made numerous appearances on both big and small screens. Despite such a prolific career, I had not heard of him till I started blogging. After that, of course, I was very keen to read him. And then, just when I despaired of ever getting a book of his, I noticed a thin volume tucked between two heavy tomes in a library that I frequent.

Maigret loses his Temper is rather a late book in the series, published as it was in 1963. It is June and the weather is hot in Paris. Chief-Inspector Maigret feeling bored, writing reports that no one would read anyway, is waiting for a chance to get out of the office. Opportunity comes in the way of Antonio Farano, an Italian, long-settled in Paris. Antonio is worried as his brother-in-law, Emile Boulay, a war-veteran and the owner of a string of night-clubs in Paris has disappeared. Since Boulay never did stay away from home for such a long time, Antonio is worried that some foul play has occured.  Recently Boulay had an altercation with Mazotti, a hoodlum who had tried to work the protection racket on Boulay. Mazotti, himself had ended up dead a few weeks later and the police had summoned Boulay in order to solve the case.

Even as Maigret starts his investigation, Boulay's body turns up outside a cemetry. What is unusual about the murder is that the man had been killed days previously and has been strangulated. In Maigret's experience, professional killers do not strangle their victims nor do they keep the body with them. It seems to be the work of an amateur but who amongst the inoffensive circle of Boulay's family and acquaintances is the killer.

I enjoyed the book tremendously, finishing it in a day. Loved the cast of characters including the lawyer Maitre Ramuel who made the same theatrical gestures that he used in court in his private life; Marina, the content wife of Emile; and Emile himself who though being in a profession many would consider immoral was  very much a decent and conscientious man.

Here's an extract from the novel which I found to be very reminiscent of the scenario in India where brothers are extremely (even notoriously so) protective of their sisters:

'You can believe me or not if you like, but he spent weeks circling round me like a young man would have done... When he spoke to me during the show, it was to ask me questions: where I was born, where my family lived, whether my mother was in Paris, whether I had any brothers and sisters...

'Not once during all that time, did he touch me. Nor did he ever offer to take me home...'

Antonio nodded, with a look which implied that he wouldn't have allowed anything else to happen.

'... One evening he asked me if he could meet my brother...'

'He did the right thing,' conceded Antonio.

I thought I hadn't read anything of Simenon before this but just casually flipping through a list of books read years ago, I was surprised to find that I had read his The Girl in his Past.


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First Line: It was a quarter past twelve when Maigret passed under the perpetually cool archway and through the gate flanked by two uniformed policemen who were standing right up against the wall to obtain a little shade.

Title: Maigret Loses His Temper

Original Title: La Colere de Maigret

Original Language: French

Author: Georges Simenon

Translator: Robert Eglesfield

Publication Details: London: Hamish Hamilton, 1965

First Published: 1963

Pages: 140

Other Books read of the Same Author: The Girl in His Past.

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I borrowed it from DS Public Library at I.T.O. [823 S 41 M]

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Submitted for the following challenges: 52 Books in 52 Weeks, 2013 Mystery/ Crime, 2013 Translation, Books on France, European Reading, Let Me Count the Ways, Library Books, What Countries Have I Visited

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Entry for Friday's Forgotten Books.