The New Mysteries

Murder used to be all a mystery novelist needed to get on with his story. The new whodunits stick to that main tent at traction, but beckon the jaded customers with such lurid little sideshows as sadism, pandering, homosexuality, counterfeiting, prostitution, adultery and grave-robbing.

DEAD STORAGE, by George Bagby (191 pp.; Crime Club; $2.75), describes in repellent detail the last hours of a prosperous pimp, and introduces as ugly a set of murder suspects as the season has offered. The case is tackled by Inspector Schmidt of New York Homicide, whose homey habit of taking off his pinching shoes in moments of stress somehow makes the sordid details of the crime seem more wholesome.

THE SECOND CURTAIN, by Roy Fuller (172 pp.; Macmillian; $2.75), the work of a British attorney who has published five volumes of verse, attempts to be both a novel of character and a novel of suspense, is above average in both categories. The plot: a second-rate novelist begins a mild investigation into the disappearance of an old school chum and gradually finds himself being followed, spied on, threatened with death. The shabbier fringes of London's literary life are convincingly drawn, and the ending is a real shocker.

JEOPARDY, by Manfred Conte (278 pp.; Sloane; $3.50), contains enough interesting research on the hazards of counterfeiting and passing bogus $100 bills to discourage any hopeful amateur. The hero is a sensationally successful engraver whose counterfeiting has baffled the U.S. Treasury for months. Unfortunately, he runs into a stretch of overwritten bad luck with thieving, deceitful or suspicious-acting ladies. His professional life is a lot more entertaining than his love life.

MADAM, WILL You TALK?, by Mary Stewart (250 pp.; Mill and Morrow; 3.50), a fast chase in polished prose, is an outstandingly sleek example of the femnine first-personer ("Had I but known . . ."). Colorfully painted backdrops of provincial France and the Marseille waterfront are a good contrast to the nice young English widow whose holiday is almost spoiled by an unshakable pursue.s

THE BLACK AND THE RED, by Elliot Paul (277 pp.; Random House; $2.75), is a Homer Evans mystery by the author of The Mysterious Mickey Finn and Hugger-Mugger in the Louvre. It is for longtime Elliot Paul fans only; latecomers who are merely looking for a story are likely to bog down in the aggressive whimsy and the interminable dissertations on art, sex and French cooking.

THE MAN IN MY GRAVE, by Wilson Tucker (250 pp.; Rinehart; $2.75), is not much of a mystery after the first chapters, but it is notable for an unusual hero and some fascinating details about the unpleasant profession of burking.* B. G. Brooks is a mild-mannered little investigator for a trade association of cemetery owners. He always carries an umbrella, lets off steam by exclaiming "Gracious, me!" and "Oh, dear!" but is a dangerous man for villains to tangle with.

EXIT CHARLIE, by Alex Atkinson (221 pp.; Knopf; $2.75), raises the curtain on a stock company of actors playing repertory in an English village. Leading Man Charles Manion fails to show up for his curtain call one evening because it appears that he has been done in by some member of his company. First rate rendering of an unfamiliar background.

POSTMARK MURDER, by Mignon G. Eberhart (305 pp.; Random House; $2.95), features a tricky will and a Polish refugee child who is the pawn in a game of murder for profit. Author Eberhart is at her best with a distraught, put-upon heroine who willfully withholds evidence from the authorities and girlishly keeps appointments with murder suspects. Padded out to an intolerable length, but passable plot and good characters.

* From the 19th century criminal, William Burke, who, with his partner William Hare, made a profitable business of selling bodies to an Edinburgh laboratory. When cadavers became scarce, the pair increased the supply by murdering vagrants. In 1828 Burke was finally caught, and later hanged.

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