Another Look: “The Mad Hatter Mystery”

Warning: Artistic inspiration drawn from book titles may vary.



Left: The Mad Hatter Mystery, by John Dickson Carr (Dell, 1953). This cover illustration is by Denver Gillen, perhaps best remembered for helping to create the image of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Right: The Mad Hatter Mystery, by John Dickson Carr (Berkley, 1958); cover art by Lu Kimmel. This was the second installment in Carr’s series starring Dr. Gideon Fell.

This Is How Human Kindness Works

Here’s a happy follow-up to a story we brought you in mid-July. A GoFundMe campaign launched to pay the housing and medical bills of renowned 95-year-old artist, art instructor, and author Jack Faragasso has exceeded its goal. His niece, Denise Acerra, was hoping to raise $10,000 for Faragasso’s care. When I went to look for an update yesterday, I discovered that $10,551 has been pledged, and GoFundMe now says, “This fundraiser is no longer accepting donations.”

Faragasso posted a note of appreciation on Facebook last week:

As I reflect today on my life, it is truly overwhelming to see how many beautiful fans and friends, including my students, have shown me so much kindness, generosity and support. I am honored and so humbled. Thank you Thank you Thank you all for purchasing my artwork, books and prints through the years. You all have truly blessed my life.

We wish Faragasso only the best for the future.

Behind an Overlooked McGinnis

(Above) Robert McGinnis’ “forgotten” Florinda front.

When Randal S. Brandt, a librarian at the University of California, Berkeley, went looking for background on Dana Wilson, the author of a peculiarly titled 1946 novel, Make with the Brains, Pierre, that he had acquired for the library’s California Detective Fiction Collection, he discovered there was more mystery in the writer’s identity than there was in Wilson’s “grim tale of psychological suspense.” As he explained recently for The Rap Sheet:

The book itself, including the original dust jacket, was no help at all. There is no author’s biography, photograph, or blurb on this edition. I didn’t even know if Dana was a man or a woman ..., or whether the name was real or a pseudonym. The Library of Congress, usually the authority on matters of book authorship, was no help whatsoever here. In its catalogue, the novel was entered under the simple heading of “Wilson, Dana,” which was linked to a composer and professor of music born in 1946. Nope, definitely not the author of this 1946 novel. The database contained entries for several other similarly named writers, but none were the one I was looking for. Disambiguating authors from one another and identifying them with the works that they produce is called, in library parlance, “authority control” and is a critical component of cataloguing, so I was determined to do something to distinguish Dana Wilson the mystery writer from the other Dana Wilsons.

Eventually, thanks to help from the genealogical database Ancestry, a vague dedication in the novel’s opening pages, and a soupçon of good fortune, Brandt succeeding in finding his answers. Wilson, it turns out, was a New York-born Hollywood actress who, following her divorce from Lewis Wilson—the first man ever to play Batman on film—went on to marry Albert R. “Cubby” Broccoli, one of two partners (Harry Saltzman being the other) now famous for bringing Ian Fleming’s James Bond novels to life on the silver screen.

Despite her modest success with Make with the Brains, Pierre (republished in paperback during the late 1940s as Scenario for Murder and Uneasy Virtue), Dana Broccoli produced only one more book: the 1977 hardcover release Florinda. Brandt describes it as “a historical novel set in 8th-century Spain, which was apparently inspired while [she and Cubby were] scouting locations for the Bond series.” The story’s protagonist is Florinda la Cava, or simply La Cava, said by Wikipedia to have “played a central role in the downfall of the Visigothic kingdom in Spain in 711. Although she was treated as historical in Spain for centuries, there is no evidence for her existence whatsoever and her name is certainly a later concoction.”

(Right) Dana Broccoli’s author portrait from the historical yarn Florinda.

Mere legend Florinda may be—the lover (or else the rape victim) of the last Visigothic king, Roderic, whose powerful father sought to avenge that dishonor by siding with Muslim conquerors against Roderic—but she appears every inch the callipygous seductress in the cover illustration for Broccoli’s Florinda shown atop this post, painted by renowned paperback and movie poster artist Robert McGinnis. How McGinnis came to be hired by Broccoli’s small publisher, Two Continents, to create that book front is a story now lost to time. The artwork itself has been largely forgotten, as well.

“Wow, Jeff! That’s an impressive piece,” replied Tim Hewitt, a former tech writer and paperback collector in South Carolina, after I asked him to confirm the identity of Florinda’s cover creator. “Yes, it’s McGinnis! After some close examination, I’m confident that’s McGinnis’ signature (what you can see of it) just below Dana Broccoli’s name on the cover. And honestly, if this isn’t McGinnis I’ll eat my hat, as the old saying goes.”

Art Scott, the co-author (with the painter himself) of 2014’s The Art of Robert E. McGinnis, concurs. “[A]s a self-made McGinnis authority,” he wrote me in a recent e-mail note, “I’ll sign off on this one as being genuine McGinnis. I also checked through my file of photos of the paintings held by Bob when we were working on the book, but didn’t expect to find Florinda—and didn't. I imagine it’s in the hand of the Broccoli heirs.”

Available copies of Broccoli’s novel are few and far between, and vary in price. Checking today, for instance, I see two to be had on the AbeBooks Web site—one going for a modest $33.75, the other valued at $150, both described as being in “fine” (or “as new”) condition. For a committed McGinnis fan, though, one to whom this art was previously unknown, cost may be of little significance.

Savage Attractions

With this year’s Pulpfest set to begin on August 1 in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, Michael Stradford—one of the foremost authorities on the paperback book cover modeling career of Steve Holland—notes that convention organizers have “posted a great video compilation of legendary illustrator Bob Larkin’s many Doc Savage covers for Bantam Books,” all featuring Holland. You can watch that here.

Every Little Bit Helps

As was recently noted on Facebook, a new GoFundMe campaign has been established to help 95-year-old artist, art instructor, and author Jack Faragasso. As you probably know already, Faragasso taught for a long while at the Art Students League of New York and is well-remembered for painting many paperback covers. (He even introduced “pin-up girl” Bettie Page as a paperback cover model!) But now he’s residing in an assisted living facility and confronting both health and financial difficulties.

As his niece, Denise Acerra, explains on GoFundMe:

He lived his entire life in a 4-story walk-up, rent-controlled apartment in NYC, until 4 years ago when he fell on the city street and broke his hip. After surgery, he needed extensive rehab in an attempt to make him able to walk up steps again to go home. Unfortunately, insurance ran out and he had to leave rehab. He needed care to dress and shower, plus more PT so we had no choice but to bring him to Assisted Living. We thought he would get stronger with more PT there, but the day he got there, Covid broke out and they were in lockdown. No PT was allowed in for a very long time and at that point, he had gotten so weak we knew he would never be able to go up or down steps again so we had to give up his rent-controlled NYC apartment. My uncle was very depressed and lonely, missing the only home he knew and in quarantine in a strange place with nothing familiar and no art supplies. We have since then set him up so he can once again paint and draw but financially it’s a great struggle. We have been selling his art in hopes of being able to pay this extraordinary rent but it’s just not enough. It’s so difficult when an elderly person needs care because the care is extremely expensive.

The goal is to raise $10,000 to cover Faragasso’s monthly rent and medical care. So far, only $3,930 has come in, from 55 people. If you can spare a few more dollars, go here to contribute.

Robert Deis, who with Bill Cunningham produces The Men’s Adventure Quarterly (and was my editor on The Art of Ron Lesser Volume 1: Deadly Dames and Sexy Sirens) notes that “Another way to help Jack Faragasso is to buy his books and prints of his artwork. Thanks to Paul Burke at Asylum Publications, you can get copies [of] Jack's classic art instruction books, books showcasing his photos of models like Bettie Page, and prints of his cover paintings and photos. Kudos to Paul and Asylum for helping Jack and for keeping his legacy alive. Jack's books and prints are available on Amazon (https://amzn.to/3S5Tit4) and on the Asylum website (asylumpublications.com/shop).”

Angel on the Lam

Sorry, everyone, for the long silence on this page. My last post went up at the end of March, and the one before that promised the imminent unrolling of a new series. Since then, I’ve experienced computer issues and the death of one of my closest friends. If you’re a reader of my other blog, The Rap Sheet, you will have noticed a drop-off in activity there as well, though not quite as serious.

My absence became persistent enough, that I received an anonymous comment here earlier this week, asking, “Where have you been?”

With any luck, this post marks my return. Yes, it will likely take some while to resume my normal blogging pace, but a start must be made. Therefore, I am bringing you today the latest Hard Case Crime paperback cover from artist Paul Mann, about whom I have written before. The Get Off—shown above—is due out in March 2025, and is the third hard-boiled novel from Christa Faust to feature her ex-porn star protagonist, Angel Dare. (The previous installments in that series were 2008’s Money Shot and 2011’s Choke Hold).

Hard Case Crime’s synopsis of the book’s plot reads:

Tagged as a cop killer when a mission of vengeance goes wrong, Angel Dare finds herself on the run, with an unexpected burden: she’s pregnant. Her desperate flight takes Angel across the rugged American west, where cattle barons lock horns with rodeo bullfighters and life can end suddenly and brutally. A renegade couple living off the grid near the border might offer a chance of escape—but can Angel reach them in time ...?

It’s hard to believe that almost a decade and a half has passed since Choke Hold reached stores. And that, according to Hard Case, The Get Off will conclude Angel Dare’s story.

You can read a sample chapter of Faust’s latest yarn here.

Another Look: “The D.A. Breaks an Egg”

Warning: Artistic inspiration drawn from book titles may vary.



An egg-cellent pairing for Easter. Left: The D.A. Breaks an Egg, by Erle Stanley Gardner (Cardinal, 1958); photo front. Right: The D.A. Breaks an Egg (Great Pan, 1959), with a cover illustration by Sam “Peff” Peffer. This was the ninth and final entry in Gardner’s series starring Douglas Selby, the scrappy district attorney for fictional Madison County, California.

Getting a Jump on Things

Happy Leap Day, gentle readers. This 1956 Ace Books cover of Leap in the Dark, by former actress and editor Rona Randall (aka Rona Shambrook), isn’t being highlighted today simply because of its title. It also hints at a project I have upcoming on this page, which will begin soon and likely run through most of March.

Meanwhile, a few words about the paperback novel at hand.

My Love-Haunted Heart, Sara Boyle’s terrific (but, sadly, no longer updated) blog about vintage Gothic romance novels, describes Leap in the Dark as “an interesting take on the mistaken identity plot twist.” She then synopsizes its plot thusly:

Jeanne Cleary is on her way to nursing college in London and on a whim hops off the train in a remote village in France. The station’s deserted so she follows a dusty path through the countryside leading her to the local chateau.

By a strange (very strange) coincidence, nurse-to-be Jeanne finds herself mistaken as an actual nurse (due to arrive that very day) who had recently been hired to look after the lady of the manor, Comtesse de Clementeaux.

Just as Jeanne decides to find a convenient time to break the news to her new found granny, another girl turns up—declaring herself to be Jeanne Cleary, the Comtesse’s granddaughter! The real Jeanne knows this new interloper is just a gold-digging impostor, but how can she reveal her true identity without breaking her own cover? So a sticky situation turns into a quagmire of confusion as our heroine battles to assert her rightful position within her newfound family and win the heart of the handsome Dr Paul Antoine.

The handsome painting that fronts Leap in the Dark was created by Italian-born artist Lou Marchetti (1920-1992), whose work has appeared on this page many times over the years. Boyle quips that “extra points [should be] given for this cover, as it’s refreshing to see a heroine dressed in something other than a floaty nightie.”

If you’re thinking this portends a similar demureness in the cover series I have planned for next month, fear not. There will be plenty of diaphanous attire and bared skin to admire. Stay tuned.

Happy Valentine’s Day to You, Too!

A Time to Love, by Noel O’Hara (Chariot, 1960), which seems like an ideal cover to showcase this week, when both Valentine’s Day and Mardi Gras are being celebrated. Cover painting by Basil Gogos. Enjoy Gogos’ original art for the book here.

Another Look: “Miss Pym Disposes”

Warning: Artistic inspiration drawn from book titles may vary.



Left: Miss Pym Disposes, by “Josephine Tey,” aka Elizabeth Mackintosh (Pan, 1957), with a cover by new-to-me vintage artist S.R. Boldero. Right: Miss Pym Investigates (Pan, 1960); cover illustration by Sam “Peff” Peffer. Scottish author Tey (1896-1952) may be most fondly remembered for her half-dozen novels featuring Inspector Alan Grant (The Man in the Queue), but her two standalone mysteries—this one (originally published in 1946), and Brat Farrar (1949)—are no less deserving of attention.

READ MORE: “Decades After Her Death, Mystery Still Surrounds Crime Novelist Josephine Tey,” by Francis Wheen (Vanity Fair).

A Nonagenarian of Note

New York-born painter and art instructor Jack Faragasso—“one of the cornerstones of paperback illustration art”—celebrated his 95th birthday exactly a week ago, on January 23. To honor that milestone, Michael Stradford showcases several of Faragasso’s pieces featuring once-ubiquitous paperback cover model Steve Holland in his blog.

You’ll find more of Faragasso’s work on the image-hosting Web site Flickr. Or click here to read an interview with the artist.

Going on 15

I love the above illustration, based on artwork by Barye Phillips. It’s appropriate to post in honor of Killer Covers’ 14th anniversary.

When I launched this blog on January 19, 2009, the first illustration I posted was the front from a 1960 Bantam paperback edition of The Three Roads, the fourth novel by author Kenneth Millar, who would soon begin publishing crime fiction under the pseudonym Ross Macdonald. The quote installed over that Phillips painting, however, comes from Macdonald’s The Wycherly Woman (1961), his ninth book starring Los Angeles private detective Lew Archer.

Writing three decades ago in Reason magazine, Wisconin academics Lester and Deborah Hunt observed that “Macdonald's concern with trouble is conscious and pervasive. ...

“Trouble” is his name for the destructive consequences that follow from human irrationality and viciousness (usually the former). The real trouble begins when we can no longer control the destruction we cause. A blackmailer appears in the aftermath of what seemed a perfect crime; or an illegitimate child shows up, bringing home to his lost father the consequences he has never faced. Things get out of hand.

Once a mistake is made, trouble follows with a logic as intricate and ruthless as algebra. It resembles the “justice” (dike) in Greek tragedy, a cosmic force that the ancients believed restores an imbalance in nature created by wrongdoing. But trouble is not justice in our sense of the word, because it harms the innocent and the guilty alike. Trouble therefore must be stopped, and that is Archer’s task. He discovers who is criminally responsible for it, not so that retribution can be exacted for what they have done, but simply in order to have them locked up someplace where they can no longer harm others or themselves. The point is to bring the tragedy to an end before trouble has expended itself.

There are certainly ample troubles—of the individual, familial, and societal sort—in all of Macdonald’s two dozen novels, which is of course one reason they’re so memorable. Fortunately, fewer tribulations have beset Killer Covers and your humble host, which has made it possible to carry on so long and why we will continue to showcase vintage (and occasionally new) book fronts into the future.

Thank you all for joining us over these last 14 years!

Borack Captures Holland

Earlier today, Michael Stradford, the author of several books about ubiquitous American paperback cover model Steve Holland, posted a selection of captivating paintings by Brooklyn-born artist Stanley Borack (1927-1993). “He had a crisp, realistic style that captured emotion and movement convincingly,” Stradford writes of Borack. “As such, it makes sense that Steve Holland was his go-to model for many years of paperback and magazine cover work.” As Stradford concludes, they “made a dynamic team.”

And a Very Merry Christmas to All!

The Corpse in the Snowman, by “Nicholas Blake,” aka Cecil Day-Lewis (Popular Library, 1945). Cover art by H. Lawrence Hoffman.

All the Rage

Literary Hub believes it has finally identified this year’s hottest book-cover design trend. Writes Drew Broussard:

The reign of the color-blob book cover has slowly come to an end over the last several years, and various pretenders to the throne have taken their best shot at being the next trend—sans-serif minimalism (The “Cusk”); brightly-colored paper-cut-out illustrations, usually involving women (The “Bernadette”); and of course, the perennial text-over-full-jacket-evocative-photograph (The “Prestige White Author”).

We’re here to report that a new contestant is entering the field in 2024 (or at least Knopf is really trying to make fetch happen). Folks, allow me to introduce … the Pastel Sky.

Click here to enjoy a small gallery of examples.

Meanwhile, The Book Designer cites its own 2023 dust-jacket art consistencies, including head shots of authors, “colorful vector illustrations,” water and river symbolism, and “busy backgrounds with bold typography.” That Web site’s editors somehow missed spotting the whole pastel sky thing, though.

Another Look: “Naked Fury”

Warning: Artistic inspiration drawn from book titles may vary.



Left: Naked Fury, by “Day Keene,” aka Gunnar Hjerstedt (Phantom, 1952), with a cover illustration by Jack Rickard. Right: Naked Fury (Berkley, 1959); cover art by Milo.

Manipulating Reality

Stock photography has become so ubiquitous on book fronts in recent years, that few people give it more than passing notice. But recently, while gathering info about forthcoming crime and mystery novels, I happened across a January release titled The Clinic, by Cate Quinn, that caused me to do a double-take. Not because the cover was anything special, but because part of the art used was so recognizable, it distracted me from caring about the story to be found inside.

Publisher Sourcebooks Landmark describes this book as “a thriller set in a remote rehab clinic on the Pacific Northwest coast, in which the death of a woman inside prompts her sister to enter the clinic as a patient in order to find the truth.” Its synopsis goes on to explain:

Meg works for a casino in L.A., catching cheaters and popping a few too many pain pills to cope, following a far different path than her sister Haley, a famous actress. But suddenly reports surface of Haley dying at the ... facility where she had been forced to go to get her addictions under control.

There are whispers of suicide, but Meg can’t believe it. She decides that the best way to find out what happened to her sister is to check in herself—to investigate what really happened from the inside.

Battling her own addictions and figuring out the truth will be much more difficult than she imagined, far away from friends, family—and anyone who could help her.

The Clinic’s dust jacket, with its wave-battered cliffs, recumbent fog layer, and towered Victorian edifice, certainly supports this yarn’s eerie intent. But its cover image combines at least two stock photos. And if you’re like me, it’s impossible to look past the fact that the supposedly threatening coastal institution is actually a Eureka, California, landmark that once seen, is not soon forgotten.


(Above) The Carson Mansion is far from the Pacific Northwest.

Located at the eastern extreme of Eureka’s historic quarter, the Carson Mansion was completed in 1886 for William Coleman Carson. A native of New Brunswick, Canada, Carson had ventured west in the early 1850s, hoping—like so many other young men—to get rich quick in the California Gold Rush. He stayed afterward to become one of Northern California’s first lumber barons. In the early 1880s, he commissioned San Francisco architect-brothers Samuel and Joseph Cather Newsom, who Wikipedia says “specialized in designing Queen Anne-style … homes with extravagant details,” to create a showplace residence for his family in the busy coastal town of Eureka. North Coast Journal, an alternative newsweekly serving California’s Humboldt County, says Carson allowed his architects “a free hand with the design. Redwood—the wood that had made Carson wealthy—was the obvious choice for the exterior, due to its ability to resist weathering and decay. But Carson also arranged to have quantities of tropical hardwoods imported from all over for the internal construction and decoration. … Carson arranged for a schooner to bring nearly 100,000 feet of white mahogany (primavera) from Central America. In addition, shiploads of Philippine mahogany and Indian teak complimented the exterior redwood.”

Carson died in February 1912, leaving what was reportedly a substantial legacy to his five children. In 1950, his elegant four-story, 18-room home with its very distinctive tower became the headquarters of the private Ingomar Club, its membership open then—as now—only to men. Although this structure was included in 1964 on the Historic American Buildings Survey, its club owners have chosen not to apply for its placement on the better-recognized National Register of Historic Places.

While it’s located not far from Eureka’s Arcata Bay, the mansion—labeled “a baronial castle in Redwood” by one national architecture critic—doesn’t perch on an ocean-fronting precipice, as The Clinic’s jacket suggests. Nor is it occupied by a facility for patients in desperate need of physical or mental rehabilitation, though I’m sure many Ingomar regulars find succor within its grand walls.

Mann, Oh Mann!

I’ve had the opportunity over my years as a journalist and book critic to interview a great many people. They’ve ranged from relative unknowns to prominent figures such as actor James Garner, Doonesbury cartoonist Garry Trudeau, Washington Post editor Ben Bradlee, jazz singer Sarah Vaughn, and architect-futurist Buckminster Fuller, as well as crime novelists on the order of Ross Macdonald, Robert B. Parker, Elmore Leonard, and Philip Kerr.

Not all encounters of this sort have gone smoothly, and scheduling difficulties have sometimes arisen. However, I don’t recall ever being so challenged in seeking to arrange an interview as I was when I tried to connect with Salt Lake City-area artist-illustrator Paul Mann (shown at right).

You may recognize Mann’s moniker from an article I posted last week about his work on the front of Too Many Bullets, the new, 19th Nate Heller private-eye novel by Max Allan Collins. Over the last half-dozen years, Mann has become a regular contributor to publisher Hard Case Crime’s cracking line of hard-boiled yarns. His mastery of retro-style imagery has made him a go-to HCC cover artist, along with Robert McGinnis, Ron Lesser, Claudia Caranfa, Mark Eastbrook, Laurel Blechman, and others. Having long been interested in book illustration, I wished to ask him about his four decades spent perfecting his craft, his creative techniques, his favorite book covers, his Hard Case assignments, and his extensive portfolio of cinema-related spec pieces.

When repeated efforts to make contact via e-mail failed, I asked Hard Case editor Charles Ardai for help in reaching Mann. Ardai said he was happy to pass along my message “with a note encouraging him to reply to you. He still might not—he’s a very nice fellow, but may not like doing interviews or might just be dealing with a lot of other commitments. But I’m glad to give it a try.”

In the end, I never heard so much as a whisper from Mann.

So I moved on. There were other people to speak with, other artists to showcase in Killer Covers, other book reviews to write. But recently Ardai mentioned on the social networking service formerly known as Twitter (sorry, I’m never going to call it “X”—that’s just too moronic a name) that Hard Case is planning next year to issue a trade paperback version of Lemons Never Lie, a 1971 novel that Donald E. Westlake released under his pseudonym Richard Stark. In 2006 HCC had published Lemons in mass-market size (with cover art by Richard B. Farrell), but copies of that ran out long ago, and as Ardai explained, Westlake’s widow “agreed we should reprint in the larger format to match all our recent editions of Don’s books.” Said forthcoming reprint will boast a new and captivating cover—exhibited atop this post—by none other than Paul Mann.

That finally kicked it over the edge. I was going to have to go ahead and exhibit Mann’s remarkable talents on this page without interviewing the man himself. Below you’ll find what I believe is his entire Hard Case oeuvre—so far. Among the titles are several by Westlake, including Forever and a Death (2017), which is said to have started out as a James Bond film treatment; Collins’ 18th Nate Heller historical tale, The Big Bundle (2022); Ardai’s Death Comes Too Late, a short-story collection due out in March of next year; and a 2019 illustrated edition of Stephen King’s The Colorado Kid (originally published in 2005 with a cover by Glen Orbik).

I look forward to seeing many more of Mann’s sexy, traditionally fashioned Hard Case Crime fronts in the near future.

Coffin, Coffee — What’s the Diff?

Back in March I posted (here) a Dime Detective magazine cover from 1943, promoting a story inside titled “You’re the Crime in My Coffee,” by D.L. Champion. More recently, I found the image below (from the March 1946 edition of Black Mask) in Pulp Covers, and at first glance thought its featured tale carried the same name. That was my mistake, but one that I’d argue was easy to make.

In fact, whoever wrote the original headline on Pulp Covers’ item about this issue front committed that same misreading!

(Above) Black Mask, March 1946; art by Rafael DeSoto.

The Thrilling Detective Web Site says that H.H. (Herbert Hunter) Stinson, the Illinois-born author of “You’re the Cream in My Coffin,” “was a Los Angeles police reporter and playwright, as well writing for the pulps. He was one of the original ‘Black Mask Boys’ (he’s actually one of the writers in the legendary 1936 photo), as well as one of the members of The Fictioneers.” Stinson wrote two main series of stories for the pulps: one for Black Mask, starring Ken O’Hara, “a hard-boiled reporter for the Los Angeles Tribune”; the other for Dime Detective, headlined by L.A. private eye Pete Rousseau. “You’re the Crime in My Coffin” isn’t listed as featuring either of those protagonists, so it may have been a standalone.

Mystery*File reports that Stinson was born on April 27, 1896, and died on October 9, 1969. He published at least one book, a 1925 Henry Holt & Company volume titled Fingerprints.