When a body is found in Holmes's 221B Baker Street lodgings on the set at Mammoth Studios during the shooting of The Valley of Fear, Groucho Marx and his sidekick Frank Denby begin investigating, in Ron Goulart's hilarious mystery Elementary, My Dear Groucho. The victim is the German emigre director of the movie who was found in the great detective's favorite armchair, stabbed in the chest with Holmes's pearl-handled letter opener. There is another murder but it takes more than murder to stifle Groucho's quips or to quiet the laughter this surprising reincarnation inspires. "Chance meetings with celebrities and Groucho's constant wordplay keep the action light and snappy." - Publishers Weekly
In this inventive mystery set in Hollywood's golden era, Ron Goulart revives America's favorite cigar-wielding comic--Groucho Marx. Needing a project to occupy him between movie stints, Groucho agrees to act in a radio serial. But when a beautiful starlet is found dead before production even begins, Groucho is determined to find out who killed her.
Groucho Marx made the transition from screen to paper in Ron Goulart's widely acclaimed first novel, Groucho Marx, Master Detective, where he debuted as a radio star-cum-private eye. Groucho and Frank aren't enjoying their latest costar, singing child prodigy Polly Pilgrim, a spoiled ingenue. When a prominent Beverly Hills plastic surgeon is found dead in his palatial home, and Polly's mother, the faded actress Frances London, is accused of his murder, Polly's request for Groucho and Frank to help prove her mother's innocence surprises them. She is convinced that Frances has been framed, and despite the mounting evidence against the washed-up perfromer, the pair takes on the case.
When a body is found in Holmes's 221B Baker Street lodgings on the set at Mammoth Studios during the shooting of The Valley of Fear, Groucho and his sidekick Frank Denby begin investigating. The victim is the German emigre director of the movie who was found in the great detective's favorite armchair, stabbed in the chest with Holmes's pearl-handled letter opener. There is another murder but it takes more than murder to stifle Groucho's quips or to quiet the laughter this surprising reincarnation inspires.
Meet Edgar and Allan Poe -- twelve-year-old identical twins, the great-great-great-great-grandnephews of Edgar Allan Poe. They look and act so much alike that they're almost one mischievous, prank-playing boy in two bodies. When their beloved black cat, Roderick Usher, is kidnapped and transported to the Midwest, Edgar and Allan convince their guardians that it's time for a road trip. Along the way, mayhem and mystery ensue, as well as deeper questions: What is the boys' telepathic connection? Is Edgar Allan Poe himself reaching out to them from the Great Beyond? And why has a mad scientist been spying on the Poe family for years? With a mix of literary humor, mystery, a little quantum physics, and fun extras like fortune cookie messages, letters in code, license plate clues -- and playful illustrations thoughout -- this series opener is a perfect choice for smart, funny tweens who love the Time Warp Trio, Roald Dahl, and Lemony Snicket.
It could be said that in this episode Groucho Marx operates as a Hollywood-style Scarlet Pimpernel, with a repertoire of outrageous puns covering the steely, daring life of a counterspy. But, as Groucho might retort, his cover is at the dry-cleaner, and, besides, Groucho is not one to hide his light under any bushel (even one of stuffed clams). So he and Frank Denby, his sidekick, scriptwriter and close friend, set out to uphold their reputation as amateur sleuths by looking into the death of British director Eric Olmstead. First Olmstead fainted at a star-studded Halloween party after a man dressed as the Grim Reaper had whispered to him and then disappeared. But it is not until the next day that he is found dead--presumably by his own hand. It is 1939; everyone expects the U.S. to join the war raging in Europe. And everyone is looking under the bed for spies. Soon the questions surrounding the death of Eric Olmstead takes on an odor of espionage. The police call Olmstead's death a suicide. After all, he did leave a (typed) note. His widow refuses to believe that her husband shot himself, and persuades Groucho and Frank to look further. Soon the pair is enmeshed in FBI agents and Los Angeles police, while the grieving widow clamors for revenge. Here is where Groucho proves his genius as a detective--he seizes on the clue that reveals the death to be murder. This, however, is only the beginning. There is another murder. Groucho and Frank are attacked; Frank is shot at (but not hit); Groucho is hit (but not shot at; just knocked to the floor by the fleeing assailant). They not only survive, but they pinpoint the Nazi spy and the Hollywood figures working with them. In a romp made delightful in spite of spies, murders, and occasional dire peril, Goulart uncannily resurrects the most garrulous Marx brother and his unique brand of patter. The Groucho Marx of these stories is the next best thing to the capering of the late comedian himself, and a happy gift to everyone who remembers him fondly as well as those meeting him for the first time.
Frank Denby and Groucho Marx arrive on the set of the new Ty-Gor film, a Tarzan knockoff, expecting to have Groucho do his humorous walk-on. What they find is that Randy Spellman, the star of the picture, has been murdered. Frank's wife, Jane, is only a few weeks away from having their baby and the amateur detective team has promised to lay off on the sleuthing. But when a stuntwoman who has gone missing is suspected of the murder, Jane insists they take up the case to clear the young woman's name. In addition to being a horrible actor, Spellman was a womanizer and a blackmailer. Many people had reason to dislike him, or even kill him, and the investigation leads Frank and Groucho through the glamour and seediness of 1940s Hollywood, Groucho signing autographs all the while. In this latest installment of the series, Ron Goulart is at the top of his game, reminding readers there's no business like show business, except when this charming team is wearing its gumshoes.
In Ron Goulart's well received series featuring comedian-cum-amateur sleuth Groucho Marx, Groucho and his writer Frank Denby have made a name for themselves as detectives. In fact, in their last case, they were able to outsmart Sherlock Holmes, or at least the actor playing him. However, both men play down their sleuthing abilities and to escape their new reputation, Groucho agrees to perform in a Broadway play and Frank accompanies his wife on a business trip. When Groucho learns that Frank and Jane are going to New York via train he decides to join them, figuring it will be a nice relaxing journey. However, murder and mayhem somehow follow them across the country. First, before even leaving for New York they are approached by a local mobster who firmly believes that the recent murder of his associate was not a mob hit. He asks them to look into the matter and Groucho suggests that he try "Philip Marlowe, Dan Turner or some other Hollywood shamus" even though "they don't have our track record...or a strawberry birthmark right here." From there, things only get more interesting. On the train they meet Dian Bowers, the newest star of Daniel Manheim, a domineering Hollywood producer. A series of bizarre events unfolds on the train, including an attempt on Manheim's life. When they arrive in New York, Groucho agrees to escort Dian to the premiere of her estranged husband's play, but the play never makes it into the second act because a body is discovered on stage. When Dian's husband becomes the prime suspect, Groucho and Frank once again find themselves playing detective. Searching for clues in the Big Apple and trying to see if the second murder is at all connected to the death of the mobster, Groucho and Frank have their hands full. However, the pressure doesn't get to Groucho and as he hunts for clues he still has time for all of his silly gags and terrible puns. Whether or not you are a Groucho fan, "this enjoyable little tale will charm the baggy pants off you."
It was an 'open and shut' case. Hawley Harvey Crippen, an American quack doctor, had murdered his wife, the music hall performer Belle Elmore, and buried parts of her body in the coal cellar of their North London home. But by the time the remains were discovered he had fled the country with his mistress disguised as his son. After a thrilling chase across the ocean he was caught, returned to England, tried and hanged, remembered forever after as the quintessential domestic murderer. But if it was as straightforward as the prosecution alleged, why did he leave only some of the body in his house, when he had successfully disposed of the head, limbs and bones elsewhere? Why did he stick so doggedly to a plea of complete innocence, when he might have made a sympathetic case for manslaughter? Why did he make no effort to cover his tracks if he really had been planning a murder? These and other questions remained tantalising mysteries for almost a century, until new DNA tests conducted in America exploded everything we thought we knew for sure about the story. This book, the first to make full use of this astonishing new evidence, considers its implications for our understanding of the case, and suggests where the real truth might lie.
