From October 1946, this is a solid, entertaining little murder mystery. It was written by William G Bogart and revised by Lester Dent, and the result is clear, low-key prose that tells the story with a few colorful figures of speech at a minimum. It moves right along, and at only 80 pages, is a good choice for an afternoon's reading.
One of the things I enjoy about Bogart is the way he researched his stories. There is a lot of detail about the Chicago area and the trucking business, but it's never preachy or long-winded. One trick Bogart uses is that he will mention and describe a hotel or town in the area but specifically not use the name, implying these events really took place.
DEATH IN LITTLE HOUSES is specifically in a post-War setting. Most of the plot involves the huge business of pre-fabricated homes desperately required by returning servicemen wanting to settle down and start families. There's also the strange touch of the villains beng long-haired bearded religious cultists with names like Brother Joliet and Brother Columbus (but then, they're not quite what they seem to be.)
Once again, despite the belief that the pulps featured nothing but helpless, cringing heroines, we meet a woman who is capable, brave and determined to find out why the driver in her trucking company was killed. Marjorie 'Speed' Calloway is not so courageous as to be unbelievable but she certainly has nerve and loyalty to her employees. Growing up in the business, she casually drives a big sixteen-wheeler to retrace the route the murdered man took and she's quick thinking enough to keep up with events.
Monk and Ham have cut out their clowning almost completely. They still throw wisecracks back and forth (for some reason Monk calls his partner "sweetheart" a lot), but they are portrayed as competent investigators. Monk gets to land a good amount of blows, and Ham is sharp enough to anticipate what Doc will want him to do next. These guys really seem to be friends who have worked together for years.
Doc himself is portrayed in a way that is completely satisfying. No gadgets are used at all. He outwits the suspects, spots clue no one else can catch, and manuevers the killers right where he wants them. When the mastermind goes for his gun, Doc pulls it out of his own pocket; he had lifted it off the man in a scuffle earlier. People recognize him and the local police captain of detectives works with him on this case. I feel this is during the period when Doc has semi-retired, taking on only cases that catch his interest.
There is more genuine emotion in this story than usual. None of that trembling fear and cold sweat stuff that makes you wonder why these guys voluntarily do this stuff in the first place.
The most startling moment in the story actually shocked me. Ham gets a call from Doc to meet him at a hotel, and Doc's voice sounds strained and unnatural. When he gets there, Ham is deeply upset to find the bronze man stiff and sore, covered with severe bruises. Captured and bound while trying to get information, Doc was beaten so badly that he was left for dead. (His skill at slowing his breath and heartbeat helped him escape being killed.) Both Monk and Ham are worried about their friend, but he gets hold of himself and starts up again. He's taken a lot of physical abuse since 1933 and it's part of the life he leads.
Doc is investigating the murder of his friend, inventor Daniel Jamison and you feel he really cared about the man and is quietly determined to catch the killer. In fact, the last paragraphs are wonderfully evocative:
"The lake's greatness held them in thoughtful silence...Somehow, it impressed upon you that life, to every man is pretty important.
"Daniel Jamison had thought those thoughts when he stood beside its shores on many a calm, tranquil night."