Oh, Murderer Mine
The third adventure featuring private eye Doan and his remarkable sidekick, a gigantic fawn-colored Great Dane named Carstairs. (Copyright un-renewed)
inute. I'm just catching up with you. You have the barefaced insolence to warn me. I think I'll slap your face."
"Don't," Doan warned. "Carstairs will bite you if you do. Not that he cares anything about me, but he would feel it was a reflection on him."
Melissa looked at Carstairs. He was lying down on the floor with his eyes shut.
"Don't let him fool you," said Doan. "He's ready to go into instant action. He's just pretending he's not interested."
"Hmmm," said Melissa. "You know, this is all sort of fascinating in a repugnant way, and I know I've seen this Trent party before, but I can't remember where. Have you any idea where I could have seen him?"
"Yes," said Doan.
"Well, where?"
"His wife is Heloise of Hollywood."
"Heloise," Melissa repeated. "Of Hollywood. Oh!"
"Oh," Doan agreed.
"Now wait," said Melissa. "Now wait a minute...I know! He's Handsome Lover Boy!"
"Yup," said Doan.
"Stay right here!" Melissa ordered. "I'll b
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Carstairs, and Doan as sidekick and translator, raises this otherwise ordinary hard-boiled detective story to a higher plane, and a different genre.
The Carstairs/Doan stories (Carstairs insists on top billing. He does, after all, have a vastly superior pedigree.) are more humour than mystery; and at their best truly amusing humour. The mystery is just as secondary as that in Dorothy Sayers books. Davis may not reach that literary level; but his Carstairs books are well worth a read, and a fine, funny way to while away a quiet evening.
These are great! Pure fun, with a hard-boiled detective at the center of it all.
