Juniper Jessup, the narrator of Olivia Blacke’s new cozy mystery, VINYL RESTING PLACE (St. Martin’s, 304 pp., paperback, $8.99), planned to make it far, far away from Cedar River, Texas, close enough to Austin for commuting but distant enough to retain serious small-town bona fides. Then, Juni’s sisters, Tansy and Maggie, implore her to return home to help out and sink cash into the family’s record shop and cafe, Sip & Spin. Since her life out West isn’t really clicking, Juni comes home, resigned to making a future in Texas.
At least, until she finds a dead body in a supply closet during a party at the shop, and the main suspect is her Uncle Calvin, a practical joker and Sip & Spin’s silent partner, who becomes an apparent fugitive when he disappears after his arrest. Of course the Jessup sisters put their heads together and figure out who the real culprit is, even if baser instincts — and the presence of Juni’s police detective ex — suggest that’s less than a stellar idea.
Blacke’s previous series, which was set in hipsterish Brooklyn, felt out of tune; the more relaxed vibe of “Vinyl Resting Place” is bolstered by the sisters’ genuine bond, colorful personalities and not-so-gentle conflicts. It’s a winning combination.
If Gelett Burgess’s name is familiar to readers, it’s very likely because of his 1895 nonsense poem “The Purple Cow” (though his claim to fame should probably be that he coined the word “blurb”). Beginning in 1908, Burgess, a poet and humorist, also published stories featuring Astro the Seer — a Sherlock Holmes knockoff in the guise of a mystic, clad in a turban and red silk robes — and his comely assistant, Valeska Wynne.
These stories, which were first collected in book form in 1912, are now being reissued by the Library of Congress Crime Classics line as THE MASTER OF MYSTERIES (Poisoned Pen Press, 496 pp., paperback $14.99). Several things emerge when reading through all 24 of these tales back-to-back, chiefly Burgess’ sense of the ridiculous. He hardly hides from the reader that Astro the Seer, whose real name is Astrogon Kerby, is a full-on charlatan, his public proclamations of clairvoyance a subterfuge for milking the rich of their money.
Astro and Valeska are also superior detectives, uncovering mysteries major and minor among the moneyed classes. What’s hidden from them — but not the reader — is their growing attraction. The resolution is equal parts dated and sweet, but also earned.
