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Dear Priscilla
October, 1943. Detective Merl Cahill and his partner, Fish Biederman, have got a good thing going. Chicago in 1943 is a very lucrative place to be one of "Chicago's finest." Merl Cahill is not only one of "Chicago's finest" he's also one of "Chicago's largest" - an ex-Chicago Bears' lineman standing six-seven and weighing two hundred eighty pounds. He might be considered one "Chicago's meanest" if any one of his collars stayed alive long enough to press charges. When a dead girl is found in an alley behind a grocery store, it's Merl and Fish who get the call. After a second girl turns up, so does the heat. A mug like this would usually be no match for these two, but this killer is different - colder, smarter, with a warped psyche that defies all attempts at unraveling. All they can do is wait for him to strike again. A female detective promoted to the squad does little for morale and as the tension mounts, it becomes clear that the killer isn't finished. Not by a long shot. A love story, a hard-bitten potboiler with twists, slugs, roscoes, and more than a few belly laughs, Dear Priscilla is also a look back at Chicago in the early '40s - WWII, Maxwell Street, the Union Stock Yards, the Times, Chicago Bears football - and populated with some of Schweizer's best characters to date. All this makes for a comic noir thriller that you won't want to miss.
Mark Schweizer is known for his cozy, tongue-in-cheek St. Germaine mysteries. Please be aware that although "Dear Priscilla" has a significant amount of humor, it is a hard-edged police thriller.
Mark Schweizer is known for his cozy, tongue-in-cheek St. Germaine mysteries. Please be aware that although "Dear Priscilla" has a significant amount of humor, it is a hard-edged police thriller.
320 pages, Hardcover
First published September 15, 2011
12 people are currently reading
32 people want to read
About the author
Mark Schweizer
37 books84 followersIn 1974, Mark Schweizer, a brand-new high-school graduate decided to eschew the family architectural business and become an opera singer. Against all prevailing wisdom and despite jokes from his peers such as "What does the music major say after his first job interview?" (answer: You want fries with that?), he enrolled in the Music School at Stetson University. To his father, the rationale was obvious. No math requirement.
Everything happens for a reason, however, and he now lives and works as a musician, composer, author and publisher in Tryon, North Carolina with his lovely wife, Donis. If anyone finds out what he’s up to, he’ll have to go back to work at Mr. Steak. He actually has a bunch of degrees, including a Doctor of Musical Arts from the University of Arizona. I know! What were they thinking?
In the field of bad writing, Mark had the distinction of receiving a Dishonorable Mention in the 2006 Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest, an annual contest in which the entrants compete for the dubious honor of having composed the worst opening sentence to an imaginary novel. In 2007, his sentence now found on page 17 of The Mezzo Wore Mink was runner-up in the Detective Category. This, and two other of his entries, were featured in It Was A Dark and Stormy Night: A Collection of the Worst Fiction Ever Written, edited by Scott Rice and published by The Friday Project.
In varying stages of his career, Mark has waited tables, written articles for Collgehumor.com, won opera competitions, sung oratorios, taught in college music departments, raised pot-bellied pigs and hedgehogs, directed church choirs, sung the bass solo to Beethoven’s 9th with the Atlanta Symphony, hosted a classical music radio show, taught in a seminary, sung recitals, started a regional opera company, published choral music, built a log cabin, written opera librettos, directed stage productions, helped his wife to raise their two children and managed to remain married for thirty-two years. He also owns several chainsaws.
“Well,” Donis says, “it’s never boring.
In the fall of 2001, I began what I hoped would be a funny little book about an Episcopal choir director/ detective that had a flair for bad writing. Now, nine years later, that book, The Alto Wore Tweed, has had its ninth printing and the rest of the books (bad writing aside) are winning awards and working hard to catch up. Thanks to you, the Hayden Konig adventures continue to make their way into the hands of mystery lovers and across church choirs, one reader and singer at a time.
Everything happens for a reason, however, and he now lives and works as a musician, composer, author and publisher in Tryon, North Carolina with his lovely wife, Donis. If anyone finds out what he’s up to, he’ll have to go back to work at Mr. Steak. He actually has a bunch of degrees, including a Doctor of Musical Arts from the University of Arizona. I know! What were they thinking?
In the field of bad writing, Mark had the distinction of receiving a Dishonorable Mention in the 2006 Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest, an annual contest in which the entrants compete for the dubious honor of having composed the worst opening sentence to an imaginary novel. In 2007, his sentence now found on page 17 of The Mezzo Wore Mink was runner-up in the Detective Category. This, and two other of his entries, were featured in It Was A Dark and Stormy Night: A Collection of the Worst Fiction Ever Written, edited by Scott Rice and published by The Friday Project.
In varying stages of his career, Mark has waited tables, written articles for Collgehumor.com, won opera competitions, sung oratorios, taught in college music departments, raised pot-bellied pigs and hedgehogs, directed church choirs, sung the bass solo to Beethoven’s 9th with the Atlanta Symphony, hosted a classical music radio show, taught in a seminary, sung recitals, started a regional opera company, published choral music, built a log cabin, written opera librettos, directed stage productions, helped his wife to raise their two children and managed to remain married for thirty-two years. He also owns several chainsaws.
“Well,” Donis says, “it’s never boring.
In the fall of 2001, I began what I hoped would be a funny little book about an Episcopal choir director/ detective that had a flair for bad writing. Now, nine years later, that book, The Alto Wore Tweed, has had its ninth printing and the rest of the books (bad writing aside) are winning awards and working hard to catch up. Thanks to you, the Hayden Konig adventures continue to make their way into the hands of mystery lovers and across church choirs, one reader and singer at a time.
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Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews
October 9, 2011
I love Mark Schweizer's Liturgical Mysteries, so I couldn't wait to try his new murder mystery. Warning: it is nothing like his previous series. However, it was a good read, and I enjoyed it.
January 7, 2020
I enjoyed this book--it's well written and an interesting plot with a fair serving of Mark Schweizer's brand of humor--but I feel I must give a warning. If you enjoy Schweizer's Liturgical Mysteries series, this book is much more hard-boiled. While Hayden Konig of the aforementioned series may be inspired in his literary endeavors by Raymond Chandler, this book is more like a collaboration between Chandler and Schweizer. Prepare for our protagonist to punch far more suspects than Konig ever even thought about. And don't get me started on the enforcement necessities of his partner's bookmaking sideline....
July 19, 2013
Mark Schweizer is best known for his nine Liturgical Mysteries, humorous tales of murder and mayhem set in the fictional town of St. Germaine, North Carolina (The Tenor Wore Tapshoes, The Alto Wore Tweed, etc.). With Dear Priscilla, Mr. Schweizer begins a new series set in 1943 Chicago that features Detective Merl Cahill, former Chicago Bears lineman turned policeman, and his bookie cop partner, Fish Biederman.
As the book's jacket so succinctly puts it, "Chicago in 1943 is a very lucrative place to be" if you're a cop. Crooks like Larry the Dip visit Cahill's Maxwell Street police station every Monday to deposit the squad's share of their weekly take. Guys like the Nowak brothers are just as helpful. Little Eddie is Fish's muscle man, brilliant at convincing people to pay up when they've lost a bet. Big Eddie is...well, 'really big!' says it all. And Just Plain Eddie, while neither big nor little, is the meanest of the three brothers. Just Plain Eddie is the man to go to when a cop needs a drop gun that can never be traced back to him. Last but not least, there are the merchants of Maxwell Street, a mile-long outdoor market where anything can be bought or sold. They're happy to service the police with everything from cut-rate overcoats to whispered-in-the-ear information.
All these sources come in handy when Merl and Fish investigate the murder of a young woman found beheaded in an Army duffle bag behind a Maxwell Street grocery store. Lacking the modern conveniences of today's police force, the two must trust their brains to decipher the few clues left at the scene of the crime. Their big break comes when The Chicago Times receives a letter from the killer addressed to "Dear Priscilla", the newspaper's lonely hearts columnist. When the woman who writes as Priscilla quits because she thinks the killer is targeting her, Merl is persuaded to take on the column as a side job. His rationale is simple: not only does The Times pay him more than the police department, but the job also allows him to keep in touch with the killer. This latter fact becomes even more important when the man strikes again.
Schweizer has a sure-fire winner in Dear Priscilla. Not only is the plot strong, but the characters are also some of the most entertaining to come along recently. Merl is more or less an easy going sort of guy, an ex-football player who left the game due to an injury and is now living on a limited income. He believes he might be engaged to a young woman he only sees on occasion (he didn't really propose, but he thinks she thinks they're engaged), but he's attracted to the first female cop ever promoted to the detective division. Merl is definitely not up to speed in the romance department, but it's fun watching the fireworks fly between him and the lady cop.
And then there's Fish, a complicated character if you ever met one. Addicted to yellow silk jackets, Fish sings tenor on Fridays at his synagogue and Danny Boy on other days at police funerals. His voice is outstanding, but his knowledge of the street and how to profit from it surpasses even his singing. He'll take a bet from anyone on anything; he pays off gracefully when he loses (which isn't often), and collects ruthlessly when he wins. Fish never falls for a hard luck story, but he's generous with his friends, especially Merl.
The other characters in this mystery are equally well drawn, and the dialogue fits both them and the era in which the story takes place. You don't have to be a Chicagoan to enjoy Schweizer's knowledge of the city and it's past. Schweizer describes places in Chicago with such accuracy that readers will almost smell the hogs in the Union Stockyard and taste the hotdogs once sold from carts at the now gone Maxwell Street market.
I've appreciated Schweizer's abilities as a writer ever since being introduced to his clever Liturgical Mysteries. His move to historical mysteries surprised me, but not as much as the ending of this book did. A bit of a shocker, it left me eagerly looking forward to the next offering in the Merl and Fish series.
As the book's jacket so succinctly puts it, "Chicago in 1943 is a very lucrative place to be" if you're a cop. Crooks like Larry the Dip visit Cahill's Maxwell Street police station every Monday to deposit the squad's share of their weekly take. Guys like the Nowak brothers are just as helpful. Little Eddie is Fish's muscle man, brilliant at convincing people to pay up when they've lost a bet. Big Eddie is...well, 'really big!' says it all. And Just Plain Eddie, while neither big nor little, is the meanest of the three brothers. Just Plain Eddie is the man to go to when a cop needs a drop gun that can never be traced back to him. Last but not least, there are the merchants of Maxwell Street, a mile-long outdoor market where anything can be bought or sold. They're happy to service the police with everything from cut-rate overcoats to whispered-in-the-ear information.
All these sources come in handy when Merl and Fish investigate the murder of a young woman found beheaded in an Army duffle bag behind a Maxwell Street grocery store. Lacking the modern conveniences of today's police force, the two must trust their brains to decipher the few clues left at the scene of the crime. Their big break comes when The Chicago Times receives a letter from the killer addressed to "Dear Priscilla", the newspaper's lonely hearts columnist. When the woman who writes as Priscilla quits because she thinks the killer is targeting her, Merl is persuaded to take on the column as a side job. His rationale is simple: not only does The Times pay him more than the police department, but the job also allows him to keep in touch with the killer. This latter fact becomes even more important when the man strikes again.
Schweizer has a sure-fire winner in Dear Priscilla. Not only is the plot strong, but the characters are also some of the most entertaining to come along recently. Merl is more or less an easy going sort of guy, an ex-football player who left the game due to an injury and is now living on a limited income. He believes he might be engaged to a young woman he only sees on occasion (he didn't really propose, but he thinks she thinks they're engaged), but he's attracted to the first female cop ever promoted to the detective division. Merl is definitely not up to speed in the romance department, but it's fun watching the fireworks fly between him and the lady cop.
And then there's Fish, a complicated character if you ever met one. Addicted to yellow silk jackets, Fish sings tenor on Fridays at his synagogue and Danny Boy on other days at police funerals. His voice is outstanding, but his knowledge of the street and how to profit from it surpasses even his singing. He'll take a bet from anyone on anything; he pays off gracefully when he loses (which isn't often), and collects ruthlessly when he wins. Fish never falls for a hard luck story, but he's generous with his friends, especially Merl.
The other characters in this mystery are equally well drawn, and the dialogue fits both them and the era in which the story takes place. You don't have to be a Chicagoan to enjoy Schweizer's knowledge of the city and it's past. Schweizer describes places in Chicago with such accuracy that readers will almost smell the hogs in the Union Stockyard and taste the hotdogs once sold from carts at the now gone Maxwell Street market.
I've appreciated Schweizer's abilities as a writer ever since being introduced to his clever Liturgical Mysteries. His move to historical mysteries surprised me, but not as much as the ending of this book did. A bit of a shocker, it left me eagerly looking forward to the next offering in the Merl and Fish series.
April 21, 2018
Very good. It was a little bit hard to start, in part because it's as if it was written in that time period-including the words-but good.
May 18, 2025
This writing endeavor by Mark Schweitzer, about rough, tough, gritty 1940s Chicago cops was an unexpected surprise and job well done.
October 2, 2011
The author of the hysterical Hayden Konig liturgical mystery series has something new and different, more a ‘40s noir quite a bit darker than the liturgical series but with some light humor. The place is Chicago and the time is 1943. The war is going on overseas and also on the streets of Chicago. Merl Cahill is a former Chicago Bear and Fish Biederman is his partner. Merl is big and menacing and Fish pads his paycheck as a bookie. Fish reminds me a bit of the bookie in the recent Men of a Certain Age TV series. Fish isn’t above sending a goon out to break a few fingers of those who owe him money. When someone starts leaving body parts in duffle bags, the police aren’t shy in their methods of getting suspects to talk in the typical “Chicago Way.” It is soon learned that the killer is sending letters to a “lonely hearts” columnist at The Times. When these letters spook the “Dear Priscilla” columnist, she quits. Merl, playing around at the typewriter at the columnist’s desk, inadvertently ends up having his playful response mistaken for the real “Dear Priscilla.” His column turns The Times into a must-read newspaper, increasing its subscribers dramatically. The editor talks Merl into taking over the column for a healthy amount of money, which is a welcome addition to his meager cop salary. Meanwhile Merl is somewhat engaged to Vi who lives in Peoria, but is carrying on with Gloria, a new detective on the force. DEAR PRISCILLA is chock full of Chicago history with the cops attending Bear games and the Union Stockyards. Merl is a likeable goon and he and Fish work well together. You don’t need to live in Chicago to enjoy DEAR PRISCILLA.
January 21, 2013
I was disappointed with this book. The author has a series called Liturgical Mysteries which are hilarious so I picked up this one. Not good. The Liturgical Mysteries have a light, satirical humor to them. They're full of references to church customs and musical arcana. They're fun. This book, on the contrary, was just dumb. Set in Chicago among thugs and dim-witted policemen the humor centered on an advice column but wasn't funny enough to save the book. The murderer turned out to be a minor character only introduced a couple of times...I had to go back, once I'd finished the book, to find his name on earlier pages and figure out who he was and how he fit in--he was that minor.
I won't bother with this author again unless he continues the Liturgical Mysteries. They're worth reading but apparently his other stuff isn't.
I won't bother with this author again unless he continues the Liturgical Mysteries. They're worth reading but apparently his other stuff isn't.
September 21, 2011
This one is quite a departure from Schweizer's nine earlier works (all in the Liturgical Mystery series) and doesn't quite hold together. Imagine a fusion of The Three Stooges and Nightmare on Elm Street, if you will. On one hand, Schweizer injects a number of humorous elements in his otherwise hard-boiled Chicago detective story of 1943, the funniest being a police sidekick/bookie/Jewish cantor character and a mixed-up advice column shtick. On the other, the murderer is right up there with the sickest serial killers of all time. Schweizer does have a good feel for the hard boiled detective story, and I think he has a marvelous sense of humor, so I'd recommend dropping the blood and gore if he goes forward with a new series.
July 2, 2012
Once I got into the book, it was hard to put it down. It was not what expected but it really was a "good read". The murders were a pit more graphic than the "liturgical mysteries" and, like Hayden, Merl is a cop, but there the similarities end. Where as Hayden is really funny, Merl is a bit of a pompous ex-football player. It has some very funny lines but if you were expecting funny and silly this book is more esoteric.
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July 28, 2012Fun read...Thanks Marty! Great vintage read about the 40's...really enjoyed it. Looking forward to reading more...wonderful summer read...perfect for the beach or lounge chair!
Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews