Donald Moffitt - Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 57, No. 7 & 8, July/August 2012

The July/August summer double issue is always a treat to assemble because it offers twice the usual space. We have a top-notch lineup this time with, appropriately for the season, a number of stories involving travel. A short getaway to Saratoga for Madame Selina and her growing assistant “Nip” fails to get them away from the taint of murder in “The Best Thing for the Liver” by Janice Law. John C. Boland’s intelligence agent Charles Marley travels to Casablanca to deal with the death of an ex-CIA agent in the multi-layered “Marley’s Rescue.” David Edgerley Gates’s “Burning Daylight” takes us to the beautiful environs of the American Southwest, where gangs and meth make for an explosive mix. And poor Dewey, the perpetually terrified bail bond agent, is sent on another dangerous errand by his boss, the mysterious Cletis Johnston, in “Tightening of the Bond” by R. T. Lawton.

Meanwhile, Elaine Menge puts a deadly spin on a summer pastime in “Death on the Range.” Donald Moffitt brings back the Sumerian scribe Nabu-zir, whose discretion and perception make him a trusted amateur detective, only this time he is perhaps too close to the murder in “Assignment in Clay.” John H. Dirckx’s Detective Sergeant Cyrus Auburn puzzles out an unexplained death that looks like murder in “Autumn Chill.” And John C. Corrigan writes about crime from the point of view of one left behind in his poignant “364 Days.”

We are also pleased this issue to welcome John Shepphird, whose “Ghost Negligence” introduces us to Jack O’Shea, a con man turned private eye with a knack for detecting scams.

The summer issue also features this year’s Black Orchid Novella Award winner. The annual BONA contest is conducted in cooperation with The Wolfe Pack and honors original novellas in the classic Rex Stout/Nero Wolfe mold: detectives who rely on mental muscle to unravel complex puzzle mysteries. The program is now in its sixth year, and looking back at previous winners, we are pleased to report that Michael Nethercott, the second BONA winner, has landed a book contract with St. Martin’s Press for a novel featuring the detecting duo from his prize-winning story, Lee Plunkett and his poetic and wise Irish friend Mr. O’Nelligan.

This year’s BONA winner rings some changes on the familiar Nero Wolfe and Archie Goodwin model, and it offers a special puzzle for AHMM readers, who are advised to carefully consider the winning author’s byline, Jolie McLarren Swann. You may be as surprised as we were.

Linda Landrigan, Editor

John C. Boland’s story “Marley’s Revolution” (AHMM, June 2011) is a finalist for an Edgar Award. His novel The Man Who Knew Brecht was published by Perfect Crime in May 2011.

John Corrigan is the author of the Jack Austin mystery series set on the PGA Tour. He is the English Department Chair at the Pomfret School in Pomfret, Connecticut, where he also coaches hockey.

John H. Dirckx is a retired physician. His last story for AHMM, “Calculus for Blondes,” appeared in the January/February 2012 issue.

David Edgerley Gates is a two-time finalist for the Edgar Award for Best Short Story. His last story for AHMM, “The Devil To Pay,” appeared in the April issue.

Janice Law’s new volume of short stories, Blood in the Water and Other Secrets, is published by Wildside Press.

A retired federal agent, R. T. Lawton has publishedtwenty-sixstories in AHMM since 2001. His collections of short stories, including Nine Deadly Tales, are available for Kindle from Amazon.com

Elaine Menge makes her tenth appearance in AHMM with “Death on the Range.” Her story “Our Daughter Is in Heaven” was recently reprinted in AHMM’s e-book anthology, Thirteen Tales of New American Gothic.

Donald Moffitt is the author of The Juniper Theft and The Jovian, which is being reissued as an e-book by Gollancz, a science fiction imprint of Orion Publishing Group. He is at work on a mystery novel set in rural Maine.

John Shepphird is the creative director of on-air promotion for TVG Network. He directed Jersey Shore Shark Attack for the Syfy Channel.

The winner of our annual Black Orchid Novella Award is Jolie McLarren Swann, a k a James Lincoln Warren. Mr. Warren’s first published mystery story, “The Dioscuri Deception,” was published in AHMM in March 1998.

You could have knocked me over with a feather when Madame Selina said, “I think we need a vacation, Nip.”

Back on the farm, you worked till you died, and the Orphan Home had no holiday notions, either. Of course, Madame Selina took Sundays off, and she’d made at least one visit to Newport that I knew of, but that was partly business and partly for her health. But a holiday for me was so wonderfully exotic that the cat not only caught my tongue but swallowed it whole.

“Well?” she asked.

“I’ve never had a vacation,” I said.

“New things enlarge the mind. We leave on the morning boat.”

That was quick. Later when I was polishing up the boots and helping Maddie with the rush of packing, I wondered if our departure had anything to do with a recent adventure involving a Tammany politico and a big street contract. Madame Selina certainly didn’t look flustered, but that meant nothing. Though she could throw a fit that would loosen your hair, as a normal thing she was calm as a clam and any thing she gave away could safely have been written up in the evening newspapers.

Our tickets were booked as Mrs. Hiram Bickerstaff and Nip Tompkins, nephew. I saw them, for I was sent to pick them up. Now, I’m Nip Tompkins for certain, but far as I know, I was never Madame Selina’s nephew, and she was only Mrs. Bickerstaff on certain special occasions. Maybe this really was to be that new thing, a vacation.

Certainly nothing could have been more festive than our departure up the Hudson on a fine, coal-fired side wheeler. We stood at the rail to watch the gulls and admire the wooded Palisades across the river and spy on the busy traffic of fishing boats and coasters. I’d have been happy to ruin any number of ward heelers for a trip like this.

“What are we to do in Saratoga?” I asked, for I still envisioned work of some sort.

“Why we’ll enjoy ourselves. We’ll eat at my old friend George’s restaurant; we’ll watch the races; we’ll sit on the veranda and enjoy the carriage parade. You deserve some fun, Nip, you’ve been an invaluable assistant.”

She smiled. I should say that Madame Selina has a wonderful smile. It is not just her direct connection with Aurelius, that is Marcus Aurelius, late emperor of the Romans, that has made her the foremost medium in New York City. She has charm and good sense, and I was a lucky boy to be her assistant.

But that thought momentarily dampened the thrill of the steamboat. Thanks to three meals a day of Hilda’s good cooking, I’d begun to grow. My efforts in the cabinet, where I produced the “ectoplasm” and other effects that make Madame Selina’s trances so impressive, required me to fit into a very small space.

I was beginning to worry that one day Mrs. Hiram Bickerstaff would pay another visit to the Orphans Home and select another “likely boy” no more than five feet tall. To prevent this calamity, I worked hard at all my errands, and I dare say I could find my way around the city as well as any and quicker than most.