THE CASE OF THE MURDERED MUCKRAKER

Her wild Atlantic crossing (To Davy Jones Below, 2001) behind her, Daisy Fletcher—the Honorable Daisy Dalrymple that was—now settled comfortably in the genteelly bohemian Hotel Chelsea, faces two challenges: making her ancient Remington typewriter fit to produce the series of travel articles for Abroad magazine that brought her across the pond, and making sense of the gabble the natives talk. Fortunately, a brief ride on a tram—er, streetcar—takes her to the Flatiron building, where, outside the offices of Sigurd Thorwald, her editor, she witnesses the shooting of Chelsea neighbor Otis Carmody, an investigative reporter whose body lands on top of the Flatiron’s main lift—um, elevator. With a juicy murder to solve, it won’t take long for Daisy to fit right into the beat of 1920s New York, even though Tammany Hall stooges Sgt. Gillian and D.A. Rosenblatt are clearly hopeless bumblers. Daisy soon learns from Kevin, the Chelsea’s observant elevator boy, and his chambermaid sister Bridget that Carmody was in the middle of a messy separation from his wife, Elva, who prefers the company of shady industrialist Barton Bender. The elderly Misses Cabot are almost as much help as hapless FBI agent Lambert is a hindrance. But the real hero is Daisy’s husband Alec, who cuts short his consultation with J. Edgar Hoover to help his wife corner a murderer.

Dunn’s tenth—short on detection, long on atmosphere, adventure, and Daisy—will appeal mainly to Dalrymple diehards.