Anyone who reads my blog regularly has, by now, noticed two
things about me. First off, I’m positively insane. Second, whenever I get
introduced to a new author and am very impressed with the book in question, I
tend to go on a reading binge. I did this earlier in 2012 with Donald E.
Westlake, devouring Dortmunder and Parker novels as though they were potato chips
until I realized that I would soon run out of my supplies if I kept at it. But
I just can’t learn my lesson, and I’m at serious risk of doing it again with
the work of Charlotte Armstrong. The symptoms are all there, and I just got
finished reading Armstrong’s novel Mischief.
In Mischief, Mr.
and Mrs. Peter O. Jones are on their way to an important social function, where
Mr. Jones is due to deliver a speech. They have to leave their daughter Bunny
behind, and they planned to leave her at the hotel with Mr. Jones’ sister. But
at the last moment, she cancels on them, and they’re forced to scramble around
to find a replacement. Fortunately, an elevator operator named Eddie Munro
hears of their plight and volunteers the services of his niece, Nell Munro. The
Joneses are only too happy to accept Eddie’s offer, but something feels odd the
instant Nell steps into room 807…


