Book thirteen in the 'Three Investigators' series changes the byline once more. Eleven of the first twelve were credited to Robert Arthur, even though William Arden wrote one of them. One more was credited appropriately to William Arden, even though that was a pseudonym. This third goes for "Text by William Arden based on characters created by Robert Arthur." Maybe the publishers weren't entirely sure if they could continue on after Arthur died but Arden's earliest books in the series were successful enough to make them feel safer about that.

I can understand why, because this is another good one from Arden and arguably the closest of his three thus far to the feel that Arthur generated in his books. Dennis Lynds, the author behind the pseudonym of William Arden, was really finding his feet here, nailing the horror adjacent mindset that Arthur favoured, telling a good story with a good hook and introducing worthy new details to the series mythology, all without losing his own voice. That's a seriously good balancing act to find and that's especially appropriate in a story set primarily at a carnival.

We open with a highly unusual way for the Three Investigators to be drawn in to the mystery, with Jupiter Jones's Uncle Titus asking them to paint two big tubs with red, white and blue stripes. The tubs turn out to be for Rajah, a lion at Carson's Colossal Carnival, which is in town. The Great Ivan has trained him well enough that he can apparently ride a trapeze. The boys deliver the tubs, but soon find themselves much closer to Rajah than they ever expected, given that someone lets him loose and Pete ends up being the one who saves the day by getting him under control. It's good to see the Second Investigator getting some spotlight moments.

Now, that's the second mystery. The first, mere moments before it, is that a man, clearly in some sort of disguise, steals a plush toy from a game booth at the carnival, right after it opens. He runs off with it but bumps into Jupe, loses his knife and eventually loses the toy too, after vanishing in fantastic fashion from a very tight corner, an alleyway with no exits except the way in that he can't have taken because those chasing were right behind him. He either went over an unfeasibly large wall without any apparent effort or he went through it. Either way, it's a mystery and all the more so, given what happened before that with the theft and after it with Rajah.

Of course, that plush toy is the crooked cat of the title, or at least one of them. There are six that served as prizes in the shooting game run by Andy Carson, conveniently the carnival owner's son. It's about three feet long, with red and black stripes, but its legs are twisted and its body crooked like the letter Z. It has one wild red eye and an ear hanging lower than the other. It's characterful and I wish I had one. Pete wins one, by shooting five ducks in a row, but loses it again quickly, when Rajah is loosed and someone apparently stole it from the tent.

Lynds sets the background well, giving us some of the flavour of the carnival without allowing the descriptions to take over. It's a backdrop, after all. Through Andy, he does explain some jargon to help add to that flavour, so we learn what a barker is and a punk and a roughneck. Andy turns out to be a natural spieler. He uses the background of regular characters in the same way, Pete the hero with Rajah because he'd experienced animals on his dad's film sets. Jupe, of course, used to be Baby Fatso, sparking his acting ability. Now we learn that Uncle Titus used to work in a circus.

Where Arden varies the formula is in using Andy as the token fourth young character for the book, given that he's an all-American boy, presumably white, though that's never called out, but surely of no obvious other ancestry. The fourth boys Arthur used to introduce tended to be from abroad, whether they're Mexicans living in California or Libyans, Brits or Varanians visiting for one reason or another. At least he's not a regular all-American boy, given that he ran away from home to join his dad's carnival after his mother died, instead of staying with his grandmother, who had custody for some reason. Those relationships do play a part here but only in a positive way.

Unlike many of the preceding books in the series, I didn't think I remembered anything about this one before diving in afresh. I'd read it, of course, but forty years ago, and it didn't seem to include any of the key details that had stayed with me from the series across the decades. However, when the crooked cat was described, I suddenly remembered why it was important. I didn't recall every detail, but I did remember that much and I spotted the important clue that's revealed early, just as I did with the equivalent clue in 'The Mystery of the Silver Spider'. Apparently, I remembered a bit more than I thought.

While the reason for the mystery turns out to be rather prosaic, very much standard crime fare, I mentioned that Lynds had embraced the horror adjacent mindset for this one and I should explain that. The carnival setting is one part of that, as is the fact that there's an abandoned amusement park next door to where Carson sets up. The explanation behind the thief vanishing into thin air is another, very much something we might expect in a classic horror movie. Most obviously, though, there's a chase scene through the carnival at night, encompassing shut-down rides and featuring a Hall of Mirrors, an upside down room and the Tunnel of Love, the latter of which leads into Jupe and Pete being set adrift on the ocean in a rowboat with no oars.

Other details worth mentioning include the fact that they wash up on Anapamu Island, one of the Channel Islands of California, which we visited in 'The Mystery of the Moaning Cave', also Arden's, and the new gadgetry that Lynds introduces. I'd forgotten the directional signals and emergency alarms that Jupe invents, but the See-All is a series staple, another invention of Jupe's, this one a periscope sticking up from the boys' headquarters but disguised as a stovepipe.

Oh, and there's the villain's reveal, which I won't spoil, of course, but which is noteworthy. This is a story that involves many disguises, including layers of disguises on occasion, which Lynds handles well. However, when the villain is unmasked, literally given that he's wearing an actual mask, he delivers a very telling line: "I'd have got away except for those stupid kids!" Now, this novel came out in 1970 and was the first of two that year, so I presume it was written in 1969, the year when a certain Hanna-Barbera cartoon dog made his first appearance, in September. The timing suggests that that line is pure coincidence with neither franchise borrowing from or paying homage to the other, but it is a very telling line nonetheless. I'll be looking forward to more of those.

Next up, 'The Mystery of the Coughing Dragon', the first of two instalments by Nick West, another pseudonym, this one for Kin Platt. I don't remember anything, as far as I'm aware, about this one, so I'm eager to see how much memory sparks during the early chapters. ~~ Hal C F Astell

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