Invisible Ink 7: Charlotte Armstrong
She should have been regarded as the Mistress of Suspense, but instead her name is all but lost.
Charlotte Armstrong was born in the iron-mining territory of Vulcan, Michigan, in 1905, and worked in the classified ads department of the New York Times before hitting her stride as a playwright and mystery writer. She adopted a second identity, Jo Valentine, and produced some 33 novels, hardly any of which are now in print.
She wrote for the TV show â€˜Alfred Hitchcock Presentsâ€™ and Hitchcock personally directed one of her stories. Itâ€™s not hard to see why he chose to do so. Armstrong wrote a very specific kind of mystery, the suspense novel. Good examples are rare now, despite what publisher blurbs may promise, but I found one Armstrong in a secondhand shop that really lived up to its name.
â€˜Mischiefâ€™ was written in 1951, and is a novel that unfolds in â€˜real timeâ€™, a one-sitting read that ratchets up an feverish level of tension by watching a single situation unfold. Ruth and Peter are staying overnight at a big city hotel with their daughter, nine year-old Bunny. Peter is in town to make an after-dinner speech, but at the last minute, they are forced to find a new babysitter. The liftman seems trustworthy, and offers the services of Nell, a girl he knows, so the couple go off to dinner leaving their daughter in her hands. However, the liftman suspects something about blank-eyed Nell that her employees donâ€™t know â€“ she burned down her family home with her parents still inside.
When Nell loses her temper and is seen risking the childâ€™s life at a window, several hotel guests attempt to voice their concerns, but a series of miscommunications and complications merely serve to raise the stakes. This kind of simple idea, produced in bravura style, was once a mainstay of popular US suspense fiction, and were often turned into teleplays in the US. Sadly, the single play series ended after advertising demographics showed that they garnered a lower loyalty factor from viewers than long-running soaps.
â€˜Mischiefâ€™ became a film called â€˜Donâ€™t Bother To Knockâ€™, and Franceâ€™s answer to Hitchcock, Claude Chabrol, directed two features from Armstrongâ€™s novels. â€˜Merci pour Le Chocolatâ€™ starred Isabelle Huppert as a poisoner with unguessable motives, while â€˜La Ruptureâ€™ had Stephane Audran as the victim in a murderous family drama.
Armstrong understood the motivation of her damaged characters, and drew suspense by crossing their paths with innocents. Her writing style exerts the same kind of grip Ira Levin always managed so effortlessly, and she deserves to be republished. She died in 1969.