The Whole Hog by Michael Kenyon

Michael Kenyon, in 1967, shows the American fixation with the Cold War Era.

His main character, Arthur Appleyard, is a swine nutritionist. When his experimental hogs start to act differently, he and his staff go on alert. Believing they may have found a new metabolic renewal for astronauts, they buckle down to study the results.

Arthur is approached by the FBI, encouraged to continue his work but keep it quiet and tell no one. When one of Arthur’s staff dies mysteriously in the lab, the police move in to protect the group. Which is now just Arthur and his pretty analyst, Liz Salucka . . . and, of course, the swine.

But when one of the swine, Humphrey - as in Bogart - is kidnapped, the experimental study is jeopardized. Arthur tries to puzzle out the mystery of who is real and who is a spy. He suspects someone in the department at the college where he works, but he can’t be sure.

Complicating and confusing to both Arthur and the investigation is a blooming romance between Arthur and Liz. Shy and unsure, he vacillates between the mystery of the swine and the mystery of his feelings. But after having confirmed the attraction between them, he forgets the Inspector’s instructions to stay together as she leaves to get paperwork.

A scream verifies the worst. Suddenly, Arthur is alone. Without his true love, he no longer cares about himself as he goes looking for the culprit.

Nothing motivates like a good whodunnit and Michael Kenyon, again, keeps his reader turning the page. His British take on American life is an eye opener. Remember, this is 1967. His sly references to the paunched people who drink Coca Cola were an astute observation ahead of its time. His references to deciding animal feed by its cost rather than its nutrition were prophetic. The idea that a supplement could make people last longer on jobs is downright scary when you think of the economic situation today. His narrative is not without political comment. Frequent references to the Space Race show his disdain for our priorities. Sometimes, it takes an outsider to show us ourselves.

May You Die In Ireland by Michael Kenyon

This first of Michael Kenyon’s books, written in 1965, weaves a tale of spies in the Cold War era.
Oddly enough, the hero, William Foley, is an American who ends up far from home because of a Tail Male - a funny business where property is bequeathed to the first son of the first son of the first son, that is unless the first son happens to die first. In that case, things can get complicated and soon a bachelor-mathematics professor from a small town in Minnesota finds himself in Ireland.

Before he can click his heels, turn around three times, and recite, “There’s no place like home,” he is attacked and robbed of every possession he has with him, including the clothes on his back. While the hotel has managed to provide him with the basic necessities (pants, shirt, shoes), he soon finds himself face to face with the muggers - aka, Russian Spies - who have yet to find what they are looking for. When he discovers an acquaintance has ties to the CIA, Foley finds himself a target not only of the Russian spies and Irish Guardia, but the CIA as well.

But what is suspense without romance? Enter his lawyer’s daughter, a beautiful, caring nurse with no prospects of her own, until a severely beaten Foley shows up on her father’s doorstep.

Kenyon’s characters chase one another through the rolling green hills of Ireland as Foley decides between duty to country and the love of a good woman.

Kenyon’s talent for mystery and sleuth is his hallmark. In these early works, he portrays the police - the guardians of our safety - as not so capable. Instead, his characters find an inner strength that ultimately carry them through the crisis.

A Free-Range Wife by Michael Kenyon

I am attracted to British writing in much the same way I am attracted to a British accent. I go all aflutter inside. While American male heroes tend to be silent and brooding, British male heroes tend to be funny and endearing.

The hero of Michael Kenyon’s novel is a big brute of a guy who loves to write rhyme almost as much as he loves to solve mysteries. Detective Chief Inspector Henry Peckover of Scotland Yard is on holiday with his chef-wife, Miriam, in Mordan, France. While she is working as chef at the Chateau de Mordan, he is enjoying his French holiday until he is told to interview an interested party for the Yard.

In “Thin Man” fashion, Peckover combines work and play, weaving his way around suspects, victims, and the French Police to find a murderer. When he realizes all the victims have one thing in common, Detective Chief Inspector Henry Peckover takes a closer look at the American femme-fatale, Mercy McCluskey. What he finds is a surprise indeed.

Since I am a great fan of the “Thin Man” movies with William Powell and Myrna Loy, I can’t help but love the character of Detective Chief Inspector Henry Peckover. He has the same self-effacing, inquisitive humor. I marvel at how he manages to find the next clue. The inspector’s habit of giving his reports to the Yard in sonnet sequence is only surpassed by the Yard’s expectations of receiving them in that form. How have they put up with him this long?

He must be really good at what he does.

I will be reviewing other books by Kenyon. I’d forgotten how enjoyable he is to read.