This is the 2023 edition in the anthology series The Mysterious Bookshop Presents The Best Mystery Stories of the Year. This is the third volume in the series. The overall editor of the series is Otto Penzler. Each volume has a "guest editor," a person renowned in the field of mystery fiction. Michele Slung is a first reader who works with Penzler. She reads through the many stories that might be eligible for inclusion and passes what she considers to be the best mystery tales on to Penzler. He narrows the selection down further, and then in turn passes these on to the guest editor, who chooses the ones to be included in this volume. Another ten stories considered to be "distinguished" are listed in the back of the book.
The stories chosen for this particular anthology include two from Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine, two from Mystery, Crime and Mayhem: Cold Cases, two from Mystery Magazine, and one from Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine. The other stories first appeared in various anthologies, collections, or periodicals. There have been twenty such stories in each of the previous two volumes; there are twenty-one in this book.
A twenty-second story is also included, "a bonus story from the past." Information about the authors precedes each story and notes by the authors immediately follow the story to which they refer. The authors' notes are frequently fascinating.
Penzler states that he considers mystery stories to be "any work of fiction in which a crime, or the threat of a crime, is central to the theme or the plot." He states that this "is a collection of stories nearly all of which are about Death and Sin, with plenty of dead bodies and an abundance of wicked people."
The guest editor for this volume is Amor Towles, whose novels Penzler writes "have collectively sold more than six million copies and been translated into more than thirty languages." Towles' "Introduction" does not discuss the contents of the anthology at all: it is, rather, a lengthy rumination on cadavers in mystery fiction. I did not find it of great interest to me.
I will begin with the "Bonus Story," which this year is "A Bottle of Perrier" by Edith Wharton. It first appeared (under the title "A Bottle of Evian"; I assume that someone later decided that Perrier was better known than Evian Water) in 1926. A young archeologist visits the home of an older colleague, who lives in a desert land populated by Arabs. Although the visit was planned, the young man is told that his host has gone away but should be back soon. But as days go by, the host does not return, and the young man's principal contact remains the absent host's British servant, who states that he hasn't had a day off in nearly twelve years. That servant's behavior is odd, and so is the smell of the water in the well that serves the house. A rather predictable ending, but a nice enough tale on the whole.
I have almost never enjoyed a Sherlock Holmes pastiche and "The Adventure of the Misquoted Macbeth" by Derrick Belanger is no exception. A family problem of Dr. Watson's is solved along with the not very interesting case which Holmes is investigating.
Another famous investigator (of sorts) is featured in "New Kid in Town" by Andrew Child; that character is Jack Reacher, who usually appears in stories by Andrew Child's brother, Lee Child. Reacher agrees to help a man locate his daughter, whom he has not seen in fifteen years. A lot of violence ensues.
A man puts a camera on his cat that will take pictures automatically at specified intervals. The pictures show signs of a woman's murder - but where were they taken? That is the situation in "What the Cat Dragged In" by Michael Mallory. Unfortunately, it is also the situation in an award-winning story, "The Secret Life of Cats" by Kristine Kathryn Rusch, published in the July, 2008 issue of Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine. In my review of that issue, I wrote:
This posits what is, as far as I know, a unique situation in mystery fiction. A man living alone wonders what his cats do when they leave his house. He puts "catcams" on them, set to take pictures every ninety seconds. One of them returns with pictures of a dead woman lying in a swamp. The man and the police must figure out where the body is.
The stories are otherwise not at all alike. Mallory's story is largely comic; Rusch's is much more somber. In Mallory's note after the story, he tells how he got the idea for this and it does not, of course, mention Rusch's earlier work, of which Mallory might truly be unaware. But Rusch's story did win a prestigious award and it is hard to believe that none of the four editors who accepted Mallory's tale were familiar with Rusch's story. I think that including one sentence in the introduction to the story acknowledging that there had been an earlier story with a similar theme would have helped. (By the way, Rusch's story is much the better of the two.)
Mystery tales often have surprising twists, frequently at the ending. The trick is to try to make sure that the reader does not anticipate the surprise. I was totally flummoxed by Kerry Hammond's brief story, "Strangers at a Table." A group of strangers meeting on a train begin telling stories of some mysterious event of which they have personal knowledge. The reader learns of two of these. I did not solve the first one, although it was the more obvious of the two; I also didn't have any idea on the very clever, definitely fairly-clued second one.
There is a fine twist in "Two Sharks Walk into a Bar" by David Krugler. The "sharks" are pool sharks, a couple who play against two guys in a bar. The male half of the couple agrees to an appalling bet. (A piece of trivia: "Sharks" in this usage - pool sharks, card sharks, and the like - obviously derive their designation from the fish, vicious predators with awesome powers, right? Nope. The vicious fish is named after the humans. From Wikipedia:
etymology states that the original sense of the word was that of "predator, one who preys on others" from the Dutch schurk, meaning 'villain, scoundrel' …)
Brendan DuBois and Jeffery Deaver are mystery fiction sharks - authors whose stories frequently sneak up and bite their readers. DuBois' story "The Landscaper's Wife" has a first-person narrator. He is a man with a hidden past, trying to live a quiet life in a rural area. But things come up. His landscaper, convinced that the narrator is rich and has things in his past that he wants to keep hidden, begins blackmailing him. That landscaper's wife, whom the husband beats, has become the narrator's lover. Things continue to develop. A fine story, right up until the last sentence, which makes no sense to me at all.
Jeffery Deaver's story "Dodge" has one major twist and some subsequent ones as well. A sheriff's deputy has agreed to help another man hunt down a psychotic murderer, a woman who is said to delight in causing pain. Anything that I add would probably need a "spoiler" designation. I guessed one of the twists and was fooled by the others. I should note that both this and the DuBois story are not just collections of puzzles, they are real stories as well. I think that "Dodge" is one of the best stories in this anthology. (The joke in the story that one person tells another was told to me around forty-five years ago. [Hi, Shirley! I doubt that you will ever see this, but you might. Sorry we didn't stay in touch. I've read two books that you wrote since then.] I thought it was very funny then and I still do.)
And sometimes the surprises fail to astonish. In Joseph S. Walker's story "Crime Scene," a professional assassin is hired to kill the world's foremost expert on the assassination of President John Kennedy. The challenge is in the conditions; the potential victim must be killed in the place in Dallas in which Kennedy was shot and the killing must occur on the anniversary of the Kennedy assassination. I rarely figure out the endings of mystery stories in advance; this time I did.
Other stories in this anthology feature surprises as well, but they do not rely on them as heavily as those I have already mentioned. (I must repeat that Deaver's story would still be fine without some of the surprises.)
In "Playing God" by Avram Lavinsky, a Jewish police chaplain in New York has been exposed to more suffering than he can deal with. Eight years earlier he had to comfort the family of a couple with an extreme and terrible loss. Shortly after, he was confronted with an unsolvable moral dilemma. He has made choices which continue to affect his life and the lives of others. This is one of the sad, dark tales that make up a large part of Penzler's "best of the year" anthologies.
Another such dark tale is "The Promise" by Annie Reed. Here too a police officer's past continues to haunt him. The officer had once promised a man whose daughter had been murdered that he would catch the killer. "It was the first and last time he made a promise like that." But time goes by, there are other crimes to solve, and one can not always keep promises.
Police officers face another moral decision in "Sundown" by Lou Manfredo, one of a series of stories featuring members of the Oliver family, Joe, a police detective who narrates the story, and his grandfather Gus, a retired law officer. A young woman has been murdered. Gus makes suggestions that help solve the murder, but Joe and his partner must decide what to do with the information.
Police officers in Ecuador are faced with a murder in "Pobre Maria" by Tom Larsen. Another young woman, daughter of "a very influential man," has been killed. Her father seeks vengeance.
Another dead girl is at the center of Joslyn Chase's "Cold Hands, Warm Heart." A high school girl went missing seventeen years earlier. Now her body has been found, with both of her hands having been severed. (The "cold hands" of the title is a rather tasteless joke.) This is more of a police procedural tale, in which the police must follow up very old clues.
A male youth is killed by a man driving by in Aaron Philip Clark's story "Death at the Sundial Motel." The twenty year old boy and his mother came from Haiti and have been living in the United States in an old motel near the border with Mexico. The death appears to be accidental, but the mother thinks that the police should investigate further. She is an undocumented immigrant, though, and fears what might happen to her. But fear does not deter her:
Before leaving, Ernesto [a neighborhood boy] asked, "Who are you, Miss Alma?" Alma knew what the boy meant, but it was complicated. "I'm a mother."
"That makes you brave?"
"Maybe," she said.
The mother comes across another terrible crime. She can not help her son, but she can help others.
"Glass" by Anna Round also has a major character who is an undocumented female immigrant. She and the man who is the other important character in the story live in the same building and have become friends. Another man in the building is murdered and the woman has reason to believe that the police might think that she was involved.
The quietest, and perhaps the saddest, story in the collection is "Ears" by Jessi Lewis. This too involves a child. An eight year old girl lives with her mother and her much-loved dog. More than one bad thing occurs in this somber tale.
Some of the remaining stories are not only dark but very concerned with violence as well. "Miller and Bell" by Victor Kreuiter is about some professional criminals who seem to be out to prove that there truly is no honor among thieves. If the other guy - or other woman - has something you want, you do whatever is necessary to get it. "For Deena, good-and-dead beat dead any day."
Sean McCluskey's complex and tricky tale "Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Wednesday" makes good use of the scrambled chronology implied by the title. A very rich man is informed that his daughter has been kidnapped and is being held for ransom. He is told not to contact the police and he obeys; that doesn't stop him from hiring "an excellent investigator who's extremely discreet." That investigator is smart and funny - and not overly concerned with legality.
Doug Allyn can write convincingly about violence and the workings of the military and of law enforcement. There is a long passage about attempting to defuse an explosive device in Allyn's story "Blind Baseball." I know nothing about the subject, but it seemed quite believable to me. Allyn takes one of the silliest tropes in mystery fiction, a tontine, an agreement in which the last person who is still living from a group gets to keep all the funds involved, and makes this too seem plausible. The veteran who had a hand blown off by that explosive device joins others to grant the wishes of those who died. Allyn has become one of my favorite current authors of short mystery fiction and "Blind Baseball" is a fine example of why I feel that way.
"The Smoking Gunners" is the title of a story by Ashley Lister - a title both funny and apt. A man is killed in his hotel room. The lovely female slayer tells the sole police officer immediately on hand, "But I promise you now: as bad as this looks, worse things have happened." That police officer has a very good reason to help the murderer - but how?
What may well be the strangest story in the book is also one of my favorites. In T. C. Boyle's tale "Princess," a young woman, very much under the influence of drugs and alcohol, wanders into the house of a family whom she does not know. She is arrested and subsequently released. She then makes a terrible discovery. Later some things follow a peculiar pattern. The reader learns something about the wandering girl, a lot about the family whose home she visited, and, oddly, almost nothing about that horrible discovery. The title of the story appears only once in the story itself, and that once somewhat obliquely. I definitely remain puzzled by some of this. I believe that I usually would have found this kind of obscurity annoying; here it seems strange and intriguing.
As with most "best of the year" anthologies most of the stories are at least competent. I was hoping for "excellent." The stories that I particularly liked were "Princess" by T. C. Boyle and "Dodge" by Jeffrey Deaver. I would certainly include Brendan DuBois' "The Landscaper's Wife" if it weren't for the puzzling (to me) final sentence.
One additional note, not about the contents of the book, but about the book itself: my brand new copy of the paperback edition published in 2023 by the Mysterious Press literally began to fall apart the first time that I read the book. This used to happen occasionally with paperback books back in the 1960s, when most of them cost thirty-five cents. This book was $17.95. I have no idea if this has been a common problem with other copies of this book; if so, it should not be.