FICTION · LARGE TYPE
Dorothy Salisbury Davis
Also known as: Dorothy (Salisbury) Davis, Dorothy Salisbury Davis
Davis was born in Chicago in 1916, and adopted and raised in Illinois by Margaret (Greer) and Alfred J. Salisbury. She worked in Chicago in advertising as a research librarian and as an editor of The Merchandiser, prior to taking up fiction writing. She was married to Harry Davis, the character actor, from 1946 until his death in 1993. She published many novels and short stories. Among them are two sets of series novels, but she mainly wrote stand-alone novels. Her novels explore psychological suspense, as was popular for many decades, and has 'an especially strong way of sharing with readers the minds of female characters confronting hazards and crisis'. She was nominated for an Edgar Award eight times, served as President of the Mystery Writers of America in 1956 and was declared a Grand Master by that organization in 1985. She was on the initial steering committee of Sisters in Crime when it was formed in 1986 and her support was influential in dampening attacks on the new organization. Davis died on August 3, 2014, at a senior residence facility in Palisades, New York. - from Wikipedia
There was a curse of death about the island.
— from Shock wave
Most acclaimed
A gentle murderer
A frightening confession leads a priest to hunt down a murderer in Grand Master of crime fiction Dorothy Salisbury Davis's bestselling novel, which critic Anthony Boucher called "one of the best detective stories of modern times." On a hot Saturday night in Manhattan, Father Duffy sits in a confessional, growing alarmed as he listens to the voice of a distraught young man who speaks of bloody hair and a dead woman and a compulsion to do things with a hammer that he does not understand. Before the priest can persuade the man to confess to the police, the killer flees, still clutching the hammer. The next day, Father Duffy learns that a high-class call girl on the East Side has been savagely murdered, and no suspect has been found. As he searches for the disturbed young man who he fears will kill again, cerebral New York Police detective Sergeant Ben Goldsmith takes the lead in the investigation of the call-girl murder, racing against the clock to catch a very clever killer who, when enraged, cannot control his need to swing a hammer.
Death of an old sinner
General Ransom Jarvis is writing his memoirs about a distinguished career that spanned five continents and three wars. Along the way, he stumbles upon a scandal about a philandering ancestor—America’s ambassador to England who went on to become president of the United States. But a very clear and present danger embroils the irascible retired general in a deepening quagmire of deceit, fraud, and murder. Enter Mrs. Norris, the housekeeper who has been almost a mother to Ransom’s son since he was a boy. Jimmie is currently running for governor of New York and enjoying his budding relationship with sculptor Helene Joyce. A sudden death changes everything, plunging Jimmie and Mrs. Norris into a bizarre case headed up by Jasper Tully, chief investigator for the Manhattan district attorney’s office. With more lives at stake, the trio follows lead after lead into a web of crime that only the canny housekeeper can clean up in the nick of time.
In the still of the night
From true-crime legend Ann Rule comes this riveting story of a young woman whose life ended too soon -- and a determined mother's eleven-year crusade to clear her daughter's name. It was nine days before Christmas 1998, and thirty-two-year-old Ronda Reynolds was getting ready to travel from Seattle to Spokane to visit her mother and brother and grandmother before the holidays. Ronda's second marriage was dissolving after less than a year, her career as a pioneering female Washington State Trooper had ended, but she was optimistic about starting over again. "I'm actually looking forward to getting on with my life," she told her mother earlier the night before. "I just need a few days with you guys." Barb Thompson, Ronda's mother, who had met her daughter's second husband only once before, was just happy that Rhonda was coming home. At 6:20 that morning, Ron Reynolds called 911 and told the dispatcher his wife was dead. She had committed suicide, he said, although he hadn't heard the gunshot and he didn't know if she had a pulse. EMTs arrived, detectives arrived, the coroner's deputy arrived, and a postmortem was conducted. Lewis County Coroner Terry Wilson, who neither visited the death scene nor attended the autopsy, declared the manner of Ronda's death as "undetermined." Over the next eleven years, Coroner Wilson would change that manner of death from "undetermined" to "suicide," back to "undetermined" -- and then back to "suicide" again. But Barb Thompson never for one moment believed her daughter committed suicide. Neither did Detective Jerry Berry or ballistics expert Marty Hayes or attorney Royce Ferguson or dozens of Ronda's friends. For eleven grueling years, through the ups and downs of the legal system and its endless delays, these people and others helped Barb Thompson fight to strike that painful word from her daughter's death certificate. On November 9, 2009, a precedent-setting hearing was held to determine whether Coroner Wilson's office had been derelict in its duty in investigating the death of Ronda Reynolds. Veteran true-crime writer Ann Rule was present at that hearing, hoping to unbraid the tangled strands of conflicting statements and mishandled evidence and present all sides of this haunting case and to determine, perhaps, what happened to Ronda Reynolds, in the chill still of that tragic December night. - Jacket flap.