With so many excellent contemporary writers turning out book after page turning book these days, it's impossible to keep up with even new-releases and best-sellers, let alone the classics that you know you want to read, or reread. But should you find yourself in a temporary state of starvation, craving something new and different in a mystery series, well, you might just try something old and different instead. These are a couple of old mystery series, unsung in their time (the pre-Internet, pre-*.* era, if you can remember back then), that are worth a read.

In William Marshall's 'Frogmouth' somebody objects to those uncooked birds walking round in the zoo.

William Marshall began the Yellowthread series with 'Yellowthread Street', written in 1976. Set in the fictional Hong Bay district of Hong Kong, the Yellowthread Police Station houses as motley a crew of cops as you're likely to find. Commanded by Detective Chief Inspector Harry Feiffer, this frequently bumbling, often hilarious, yet ever-so-serious precinct works diligently to control the cacophony and chaos that is part of frenzied Hong Kong life. I was going to say it's "Hill Street Blues" meets "Columbo", but that's doing Marshall a serious disservice. He's much more inventive, and far less boring, than Columbo.

Where the owner might just be prone to standing on a chair.

It took me a few of tries to get into this series. I bought "Yellowthread Street' on the recommendation of Bruce Taylor, then owner of the San Francisco Mystery Bookstore, who had proved to be good at picking winners in the past. I started it, set it down, restarted it, set it down, again and again, until I finally just gave up and relegated it to the "miss" category. Some months later, again at the SF Mystery Bookstore, I mentioned this to Bruce. Well, Bruce was indeed miffed. He flew out from behind the register, pulled a Marshall off the shelf (not, by the way, the one he had recommended to me, but a later one) stood on a chair and immediately read the first paragraph out loud, with inflection, pace and passion. "This is the greatest first paragraph I've ever read", he exclaimed, clearly put out that I had somehow failed to appreciate such excellence. Bruce was a pretty big guy, and the chair was pretty little, very dramatic. You should'a been an actor, I thought. While other customers in the store applauded, I, a little beguiled and a little intimidated by this in-store theater, bought a second Yellowthread book. Bruce was a good salesman and he loved Yellowthread.

"Hop Pei Cove, on the western side of the Hong Long police district of Hong Bay, smelled of fish. Not fresh, live fish, nor even dead fish, but fish long, long dead, not fresh, not yesterday's or the day before yesterday's fish, but extinct fish, obsolete fish, fish long gone to their fishy after-life, fish of a monumental and ancient age, antique fish, phantom fish, the ghosts of fish, fish drawn, quartered, gulleted, filleted, forked, fed into, finished and fishy. Fish of high, bygone and long dead odour. Stinking fish. Detective Inspector Phil Auden said, 'Blecht - fish!'" 'Gelignite', 1976

Later, at home, in solitude, to myself, I read that first paragraph, and damn if Bruce wasn't exactly right. It was a great first paragraph, and some 20 years later, it still is - an adjective-laden descriptive delight brought to a deadpan close. Thus I fell head-over-heels in love with the Yellowthread gang.

"The Spaceman is the sadistic killer at the All Asian Science Fiction and Fantasy Festival in 'Sci Fi',"

The Yellowthread series, sixteen books in total, all have the same recurring characters and they all have the exact same story structure. Same characters, same structure, sixteen books, boring, you think. Wrong!

Characters first. Harry Feiffer, the cool-headed, thoughtful, but harried and hen-pecked, precinct commander, handles the gruesome, perplexing mysteries. Like uncovering the maniac killing all the animals in the Children's Zoo in 'Frogmouth' (a tough read for those of us who find animals far more appealing than humans, especially in books), identifying the headless corpse found in a coffin floating in Hong Kong Bay in 'Head First', an apt title, or going mano-on-mano with The Spaceman, the sadistic killer at the All Asian Science Fiction and Fantasy Festival in 'Sci Fi'. Inspectors Auden and Spencer, a truly fine slapstick duo of none-to-bright but terribly earnest cops, face unique challenges of their own, some serious and some superbly silly. They must outfox the ferocious Dalmatian destroying the nearby apothecary or stakeout an ATM machine. And who better to investigate the Institute of the Inner Yu's (Inner Yu?) client's proclivity for hurling themselves to their death from an open window. Feiffer's assistant, Detective Christopher O'Yee, half Irish and half Chinese, tackles the streets dressed as a homeless maniac, or talks a 10-year old boy with a stolen, loaded, Luger into surrendering. These are finely drawn characters, quirky and unique, oddly endearing, whom you don't mind visiting again and again. They age well. (Eat your heart out Sue Grafton).

Cool 1970's style graphics adorn the back cover of the first American edition of 'Sci Fi'.

Yellowthread mysteries serve up a satisfying three-course meal. They always have three distinct plot lines, each offbeat and inventive, woven together into a neat, tidy conclusion. Three plot lines per book, times sixteen books, no two ever trite or even remotely similar - an astonishing accomplishment. Often scary, often gruesome, these books balance deadpan humor with intelligent and challenging stories. Marshall's stylish writing, zany subjects and perfect control of the implausible, make it easy to overlook the fact that these are all great mystery stories, with whirlwind pace and wildly unpredictable twists and turns. They all have a variable mix of violence, suspense, frenetic action, and wacky, offbeat humor. There's not a bad one in the bunch and you could comfortably read them back to back and not burn out.

Consulting the handy table above will inform you that this is in fact not the final book in the series.

I'm normally a stickler for reading series books in chronological order, but in this case, just try any one you can find. If it suits, you've just hit series gold. There are 15 more left to read, along with the challenge of hunting them down. The Marshalls are out of print, but easily findable in hardback or paper in many used bookstores, especially mystery bookstores, or via Bookfinder or Amazon.

A warning note: William Marshall also wrote another series, set in Manila, much less satisfying (actually, downright awful compared to Yellowthread), which died appropriately and quietly after two books. Avoid them.

I believe the domain name refers to Mongo.

You'd have to search long and hard to find a character more deserving of the title "offbeat" than Dr. Robert Frederickson, or Mongo, George Chesbro's creation and protagonist of 13 Mongo mysteries. Mongo is a dwarf, a former circus performer -acrobat and trapeze - with a genius IQ, a PhD in criminology, a black belt in karate and a highly unusual detective agency. Beginning with 'Shadow of a Broken Man' in 1977, there is absolutely nothing run-of-the-mill about this series.

Enough torture and violence to satisfy those who demand such goings on.

Mongo books are action thrillers that border on science fiction/fantasy, with enough torture and violence to satisfy those who demand such goings on, unusual and terrifying gadgets and gismos, secret agencies plotting nefarious, end-of-the-earth-as-we-know-it schemes, and layer upon layer of conspiracy. It's Indiana Jones meets the X Files, with Mongo's normal sized brother, Garth, in the recurring role of Scully. Like Scully, Garth starts out lame but gets a whole lot better as the series progresses. While Mongo lives in New York (that's where he keeps his in-home trapeze, which he uses routinely for exercise and relaxation) the stories rove the world - Russia, Iran, Iceland (or someplace really, really cold) in quest of the occult and the obscure. And the bad guys are equally far-reaching, liberationists, terrorists, genetic-altering scientists, and an architect thought long dead. Book by book, Mongo is tortured, beaten, shot, whipped, poisoned, frozen or baked, and somehow, he survives. He may be a dwarf, but he's certainly no wimp.

Mongo is tortured, beaten, shot, whipped, poisoned, frozen or baked.

Chesbro writes crisply, with strong descriptive detail and dark humor, in complete control of his complicated plots and deliberate miscues. He bravely expands the boundaries of the "detective" series, taking it into genre-defying topics. Clearly, anyone writing an engaging series about a dwarf isn't looking to run with the crowd. These are quick, entertaining, brain-engaging reads.

In quest of the occult and the obscure.

I did, ultimately, get bored with Mongo and company. The novelty wore off, the pace began to wane, I stopped caring where the next one was going, and I just got tired of this feisty little dwarf swinging around on his trapeze. Whatever, I didn't read the full series. Chesbro also wrote a couple of spin-off series, Veil and, I understand later, Chant, which never came close to making the cut for me. But by then the affair, great while it lasted, was over and I was all Chesbro'd out.

Mongo's still got a lot of avid and dedicated fans, of which you may well be one. And I certainly have no regrets that we had a fling, not a marriage.

Mongo mysteries are easy to come by in hardback or paper in many used bookstores, or via Bookfinder or Amazon. If you can't find them in the Mystery section, try Fantasy or Science Fiction.