A Scream in Soho

By John G. Brandon

‘For a scream in the early hours of the morning in Soho, even from a female throat, to stop dead in his tracks a hard-boiled constable, it had to be something entirely out of the ordinary.’

Soho during the blackouts of the Second World War. When a piercing scream rends the air and a bloodied knife is found, Detective Inspector McCarthy is soon on the scene. He must move through the dark, seedy Soho underworld– peopled by Italian gangsters, cross-dressing German spies and glamorous Austrian aristocrats – as he attempts to unravel the connection between the mysterious Madame Rohner and the theft of secret anti-aircraft defence plans.

This evocative and suspenseful London novel from the golden age of British detective fiction is now republished for the first time since the 1950s, with an introduction by the award-winning crime novelist Martin Edwards.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Poisoned Pen Press
• Release date: Aug 2, 2016
• ISBN: 9781464206504

Reviews for A Scream in Soho

[antiquary_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This story is set chiefly in the Soho area (somewhat more raffish then than now) in the early days of World War 2. The lead detective (Inspector McCarthy) is the son of an Irish father and an Italian mother, born in this ethnically mixed area. He talks a thick Irish brogue which is a bit hard to believe, but he does do some capable detection in about the first two/thirds of the story --after that, the author reveals the villains by given a third-person description of the next crime, which rather spoils the puzzle effect. The story really does begin with a scream in Soho, given, it turns out, by a transvestite German agent being murdered. It develops that this agent had recently stolen Britain's air defense plans. McCarthy does eventually find out who killed the agent and took the plans. The really odd fact is that the killers turn out to be more German agents. No explanation is ever given of why Germans in the same gang of spies would murder one of their own. One can imagine explanations -- the murdered agent was planning to go rogue and sell the plans for himself, the murdered agent was a member of a rival German intelligence organization such as that led by Adm. Canaris -- or whatever --but the author does not provide such an explanation. One agreeable aspect of the story is that although like many British thrillers of the era it includes some nasty stereotypes, notably an Italian gangster, it also includes several positive depictions of Italians, and McCarthy himself, as noted, is himself a product of the ethnic mix of his district and not some Anglo-Saxon aristocratic "clubland hero."

[liz1564 · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

This book was sent to me by Poisoned Pen Press via Net Gallery. Thank you.The British Library Crime Classics is a wonderful series which reprints novels from the Golden Age of detective fiction. Most of the authors are long out of print now, even though in their heyday many of them were considered in the same class as Christie, Allingham, or Sayers. So the reader has a very good chance of finding a forgotten treasure. On the other hand, some novels can only be considered curiosities and reflections of the readership taste of the period. A Scream in Soho falls into the latter category.The setting is 1940 Soho during the blackout. Our detective Inspector McCarthy hears a scream as he is preparing for bed and immediately throws a coat over his pajamas and runs out to Soho Square He and the constable on duty cannot find a body but McCarthy, who keeps slipping in and out of an Irish brogue, smells a distinctive perfume by a doorway splattered with blood. No body, but the scent lingers in the air. In fact, the perfume is so powerful that it clings to the clothes of a man who has contact with the body, can be sniffed on a mutilated corpse on Golders Green, and is still around the body hours later when it is brought into the morgue. Oh, and the aroma lingers in a office and enables the detective to identify the victim as the person who rented the space. And herein lies the problem with the book. Too many incidents are just too preposterous. If McCarthy sounds like Danny-Boy, every Italian sounds like Chico Marx. The villain cannot hide his Teutonic accent, although his grammar is perfect. The racial stereotypes are cringe-worthy to a 21st century reader. Although I cannot remember if a Jewish character actually appears in the story, I was brought out of the narrative by a description of unflattering Fagen-like features and the shady business dealings of the tribe. Add to that the silly plot and I was glad to finally finish this short novel which seemed much longer that it was.The book isn’t really worthy of reprinting, except as an example of the type of escapist stories people were reading to help them get through the real blackouts. (It helps to cast this as a Marx Brothers movie. Grocho as the detective, Chico as every Italian character, and Harpo as the cross-dressing corpse.)

[newsieq · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Scotland Yard Inspector Patrick Aloysius McCarthy has a murder on his hands. Then he has two. Then he has three – all in one night. McCarthy has a few hunches, but no evidence. And nothing, it seems, is what it appears to be. With an already full plate, McCarthy’s boss piles on one more case: stolen defense secrets – a packet of material that is surely going to Germany.A Scream in Soho is peopled with a seedy cast of characters – some on McCarthy’s side – and a few aristocratic Europeans of dubious citizenship. McCarthy is supremely confident that he can solve all the crimes – and he’s the first British mystery in my recollection to NOT have an incompetent boss getting in the way. That’s not to say that things go smoothly. My main complaint about A Scream in Soho is that it’s TOO British. Too many unfamiliar idioms, words and dialects often made it difficult to slog through. Once I begin skipping over whole paragraphs, soon I’m speed reading, and then it becomes a chore, not a pleasure and I lose interest. I stuck it out until the end, but there was little satisfaction in it. I’m not certain re-publishing “golden age” mysteries is a great idea, especially for American readers.

[brokentune · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

I love Soho. And finding out that the main plot of this book is set in one of my favourite places filled with fond memories of a previous place of employment, I had high hopes for this book. Unfortunately, I was sorely disappointed. I still love that the British Library Crime Classics are reminding us of some great novels we would otherwise miss out on, but this was not one of them. For all I care, I'd happily never encounter Brandon's work again. Ever. Still, I guess there is some value in having this book as a reminder that publishing and crime fiction in general have, for the most part, moved on from creating pulpy, badly researched, slashers that base their entire plot on the portrayal of racism and tropes such as ugly, evil dwarves on a killing spree. I even gave this book the benefit of my doubt as far as I could because I fully understand why some of the xenophobia was present in this story, but this story just does not work. Near enough the entire story is set in the immigrant communities, and yet, the only plot and tension was created because of the cliched portrayal of the groups of immigrants. I cannot even think of any one individual character who was portrayed as an individual human being. Not a single one.Add to this some other ridiculousness - apparently, there was an espionage story in there somewhere - and I seriously cannot think why any trees had to die for this particular re-issue.