You can learn a lot from murder (at least, the entertaining kind you find in these pages). The psychology of the calculating criminal, the explosiveness of the crime of passion, the cool rationality of the investigator, or . . .
OVER 60 YEARS OF AWARDS
157 Nominations from the full breadth of mystery genres
37 Award-winning stories
Edgar, Agatha, Barry, Arthur Ellis, Robert L. Fish, Macavity, Shamus, Thriller, Anthony
FROM THE EDITOR
Great stories of any genre are rooted in characters — well-drawn, individual, and credibly motivated…
Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine is one of the oldest and most influential magazines of short mystery and crime fiction in the world. Launched over 60 years ago, today AHMM maintains a tradition of featuring both promising aspiring writers and talented authors, spanning the full spectrum of sub-genres from dark noir to graphic works.
A key element to the success of both a crime and a mystery story is misdirection: The criminal attempts to cast suspicion on others, the writer seeks to keep the reader guessing whodunit. In this issue we once again gather together tales that are anything but straight and narrow, but we won’t lead you astray in your pursuit of pleasurable reading.
In our lead story this issue, Sherlock Holmes’s chronicler, Dr. John Watson, is traveling in north Wales for the opening of the Snowdon Mountain Railway when a celebrated mountain climber, obscured by the thick mists, falls to his death in “The Mists of Yr Wyddfa” by James Tipton.
The Moment of Truth
by John F. Dobbyn
I remember waking in a drench of sweat, fear, and chills. That’s not unusual. It was Sunday morning. I slipped into the routine that was more like a sacred ritual to drive away the demons. Breakfast in my hotel room alone. A call from my manager, Miguel, to see that I could push through the fear yet another Sunday.
It was time to dress. My faithful Angelito appeared to see that every fold of my “suit of lights” was aligned to perfection.
Then a prayer to the Mother of God before the small icon in a tiny side room. READ MORE
4th Floor Alice
by Mary Angela Honerman
A thick fog settled into the cracks of the city, softening the angles of strip malls and superstores until Kate could see beyond the town of fifty thousand and into the deep fields of South Dakota’s prairie. March hoarfrost covered the stiff brown stubble, making the bare fields appear beautiful. They’d looked this way for a hundred years and would look the same in a hundred more. Time couldn’t touch the enduring flatness of the Northern Plains. A single tree, out of place in the vacant skyline, stood watch over the great expanse, its branches as tangled as the stories Kate’s mother, Elenor, recounted. READ MORE