A bunch of kids from a Catholic School on a school trip to the Museum of National History seems like a safe day out. But when the nuns counted heads outside the building, young Joyce McCauley was missing. The Feds, believing it to be a snatch, are waiting for the ransom note to turn up.
But Lieutenant Luis Mendoza of the LAPD has other suspicions. He has been working with violence and death longer than he cares to remember and has seen it all. Mendoza is certain some nut has kidnapped Joyce, and sets about tracing the girl in his suave, tough and matchless fashion.
Barbara "Elizabeth" Linington (March 11, 1921 – April 5, 1988) was an American novelist. She was awarded runner-up scrolls for best first mystery novel from the Mystery Writers of America for her 1960 novel, Case Pending, which introduced her most popular series character, LAPD Homicide Lieutenant Luis Mendoza. Her 1961 book, Nightmare, and her 1962 novel, Knave of Hearts, another entry in the Mendoza series, were both nominated for Edgars in the Best Novel category. Regarded as the "Queen of the Procedurals," she was one of the first women to write police procedurals — a male-dominated genre of police-story writing.
Besides crime, Linington also took interest in archaeology, the occult, gemstones, antique weapons and languages. Linington was also a conservative political activist who was an active member of the John Birch Society
Another excellent book. It could almost have been called APPEARANCES OF DEATH, PART II, because very little turns out to be what it looks like.
One of the major cases is handed to them (surprise, surprise) by Carey of Missing Persons. This time it's a little eight year old gone missing during a field trip to the County Museum. Her father is wealthy, so naturally the Feds assume it's a snatch. Carey's not so sure, and when her body is found, days afterwards (following a minor tremor in the area) his hunch appears to be correct, but perhaps not. The two nuns who chaperoned the field trip are Sister Mary Katherine and Sister Mary Constance. I am all but positive that Del Shannon must have been reading Shirley Jackson's book WE HAVE ALWAYS LIVED IN THE CASTLE around about the time that she wrote this.
Another case involves first the garrotting death of an elderly lady in a shabby, run-down backwater, followed by several suicides by her neighbors. By the third suicide, Mendoza is convinced that it's homicide--as he puts it, it's the really elderly people who cling to life grimly to the bitter end, not giving up. I'll have a spoiler comment on this down below.
An anonymous letter about a crime that may or may not have been committed leads Mendoza and Galeano on a strange chase.
Piggott goes off on an equally strange chase, when he learns that an innocent man has been persecuted for over four years by the simple gimmick of being anonymously accused of any and all sorts of crimes from all over the area. There being so very many different police branches and police divisions, no one has ever recognized the fact that this man has been accused of multiple crimes. Piggott is the first one to treat the persecution as the crime that it is, and doggedly tracks back four years for the motivation behind it.
There is an ugly case involving the death of a police officer from the Hollenbeck division--a man quietly sitting at home reading when he got a single bullet through the head. We're reminded here that the addresses of all police officers are a closely guarded secret, so who would have known where to find him, even if some criminal did want to get revenge on him? The actual answer is truly, I believe, one of the most horrifying in the whole canon.
Sliding through the book is continuous references to the trial of Steve Smith, who, 7 months and two books ago, raped and murdered a young runaway. Palliser keeps getting called back on standby in case his testimony is required again.
Landers and Conway are tracking the killer of a not-so-clean-cut college boy, who had apparently discovered the wealth to be had in selling drugs. The new drug on the streets is angel dust, which is just a mite dangerous to produce, as one of its ingredients is ether...Landers' guardian angel lends a hand with the conclusion to this one.
Among the personal matters is, of course, the coming of James-or-Luisa, who is a week overdue. A little girl, bald, red, and howling with temper, is duly produced, leaving the twins in some confusion: "Daddy, when's Mama comin' home with James-or-Luisa?" "Luisa Mary, nina. Next week." "I wanta SEE James-or-Luisa!" "The baby is just Luisa, lamb. A sweet little girl, Terry." "But you kept sayin' the baby is James-or-Luisa. That's it's name. You SAID." "Just Luisa, lamb. A little girl." "But everybody said it's James-or-Luisa--"
A funny question here: Alison states that she is unable to nurse the new baby, but there is no explanation of why she can't. Is it simply because she's too busy dealing with her dream house? One of last things Alison accomplished before the onset of James-or...O.K, just Luisa--was to commission the gates, hiring a metalworker from down on Olivera Street. By the end of the book, the man, pleased and excited by the project, has already finished the gates (which means they will have to find somewhere to store them until the fence is up!) Something that I had noticed in the books; Shannon (via Alison) had originally called the house "La Casa Del Gente Feliz", the house of happy people. This spelling makes sense if the noun "gente" is male (which it sounds like, doesn't it?) "De el gente", slurred into "del gente". Yesterday I looked it up, and found that "gente" is in fact a female noun. Either someone informed Shannon of her error or she found it out for herself, because in this book, and ever after, it will be "La Casa de la Gente Feliz."
Wanda's on vacation, and thinking of marrying for money and getting out of the rat race, much to Glasser's consternation. Galeano has managed to introduce Marta to his mother, who have instantly taken to each other. He's pleased that Marta will have a strong, motherly friend, even if his own relationship with her goes nowhere, but he's encouraged because she has recently started taking an interest in his health, insisting that he needs to lose at least 15 pounds.
Hackett and Higgins are both house hunting, as their neighborhoods are starting to get a little dangerous. Hackett, in fact, had his Barracuda stolen right out of the garage in the middle of the afternoon. Having been totaled, Hackett takes the insurance check and goes off to buy a new car, ignoring Angel's misgivings. His choice is a little eye-popping, but in fact it's a fantastic bargain, a customized Monte Carlo coupe whose buyer dropped dead before claiming it. Hackett gets it practically wholesale, and who cares that it's iridescent lime green with saffron roof and racing stripes? It'll be easy to find in parking lots.
Spoiler
The answer to the deaths of the elderly is another of their neighbors, who is convinced that a sudden overturning of the economy is just waiting to happen. This, he feels, will lead to looting, hoarding, and a repressive, totalitarian government. He is seeking to spare his good friends a slow and terrible end. The first few times I read this book, I felt rather sorry for this fellow, but now I don't, and it's not just because, 50-odd years down the line, we're still waiting. What right did he have to take his friends' lives? Shouldn't that have been their decision? Of his neighbors, just one of them had confessed to the police that she would like her life to end as soon as possible, because she was alone, poor, and in a lot of pain...but even she did not consider suicide. Mendoza did not believe that he was crazy given his grasp of economics (but as I say, we're still waiting!) but I think crazy is the kindest thing you can say about him.
The usual Mendoza story - case after case coming in. The one that runs all the way through is a little girl from a Catholic school who disappears during a school museum visit. The FBI thinks it's a kidnapping, but Mendoza and his troops keep looking. Then there are several elderly people in the same neighborhood who all commit suicide, apparently - or is it suicide? And the regular robberies and burglaries they have to deal with now that Robbery and Homicide have been combined. At home, Mendoza's wife Alison is impatiently waiting for the birth of James-or-Luisa - she's a little tired of being so pregnant, and wants to get back to planning their new home, The House of Happy People. Mendoza is a little taken aback when Ken Kearney suggests buying some sheep to act as lawnmowers. Another standard Shannon book - always a great read!