Two highly entertaining Golden Age mysteries for the price of one here, lovingly reissued the British Library in one combined volume as part of their Crime Classics series. (My thanks to the publishers for kindly providing a review copy.)
Death in White Pyjamas (1944) is one of those lovely country house mysteries where everyone is a potential suspect, and the crime itself involves several unexpected twists. There is a wonderful theatrical quality to the narrative, partly because all the leading players are connected to the Beaumont, a modest repertory theatre off London’s West End.
The theatre is largely financed by Sam Richardson, a generous, amiable businessman with an interest in the cultural arts. Having made his fortune in biscuits, Sam is using his money to prop up the Beaumont, endeavouring to broaden the audience and strengthen its reputation. Leading the creative side of the venture is theatrical director, Basil Barnes, a somewhat slippery character at heart. Nevertheless, despite his rather superior manner, Basil is very good at his job, frequently coaxing excellent performances from his diverse and temperamental cast.
Sam was pleasant to everybody. Basil was condescending. He always looked on actors and actresses, as he had explained to Mr. Richardson, as so much raw material, only some of it was rawer than the rest. (p. 19)
The action takes place in the summer as the members of the company gather together for initial rehearsals at Old Knolle, Sam’s country retreat. Rather conveniently, Basil has just purchased a cottage nearby, which he is in the process of refurbishing with the help of Deidre Lehaye, the talented stage designer who also works at the Beaumont. Deirdre too is quite the character. Cynical, provocative and barbed, she likes nothing more than to make mischief for other people, finding and exploiting their weaknesses for her own personal gain.
Deirdre smiled lazily. She loved discovering the chinks in other people’s armour and shooting her pretty feathered darts through the cracks. But Angela was easy, so very easy. It was much more fun drawing a bead on Basil because his armour, forged of a colossal self-conceit, was of a far tighter fit. In fact she often wondered if he appreciated her attempts to wound him. (p. 28)
Also present at the house are Angela, the innocent young ingenue from the provinces – one of Basil’s ‘discoveries’; Clara, the rather demanding established actress; Willy, the seasoned actor with a gambling habit; and Rudolph, the aspiring playwright who also happens to be Clara’s nephew.
Interestingly, the crime itself doesn’t take place until we’re about halfway through the novel, giving readers a chance to spend plenty of time with all the characters before one of them is dispatched. During a particularly eventful night, a body in white pyjamas is discovered by the lake at Old Knolle, prompting an investigation into the circumstances surrounding the death.
Bude has a lot of fun playing with some familiar character types here, and there are several potential motives for murder swirling around in the mix from blackmail to revenge to various jealousies. Once the identity of the victim becomes clear, it isn’t too difficult to work out who might have committed the deadly act. What’s more interesting, perhaps, is the unravelling of events leading up to the death. In other words, how the murder was carried out and the underlying reasons behind it.
In summary then, Death in White Pyjamas is a most enjoyable mystery with a theatrical twist – a story of late-night assignations, midnight wanderings and secrets under wraps.
Death Knows No Calendar (1942), is another hugely entertaining novel – a locked-room mystery with a devilishly clever twist. As with Death in White Pyjamas, the whodunit element of the crime is pretty easy to figure out, but the howdunit proves much trickier for the investigators to unravel.
The setting for this one is Beckwood, the sort of village where everyone knows everyone else’s movements. Central to the narrative are John and Lydia Arundel, a married couple who live at the Oasts – a property incorporating an artist’s studio where Lydia paints portraits. John, by contrast, seems content to live on Lydia’s money, his former career on the stage having stalled some years earlier. Nevertheless, he retains the superficial charm of an actor, something that is noted by at least one other resident of Beckwood.
He’d never made a name for himself and he’d certainly made no money. His marriage with Lydia had hauled him at a single pull out of obscurity and poverty and set him up in Beckwood as a person of some consequence. Not that Arundel was a bad mixer or in any way a snob. On the contrary, he went out of his way to be pleasant to everybody in the parish. But that was just the point—this affability was not natural, it was assumed, cultivated, a part of the actor’s stock-in-trade. (pp. 231–232)
As the novel opens, the Arundels are hosting a party to christen their new bar, a traditional Edwardian-style saloon recently installed in the couple’s home. All the movers and shakers of Beckwood are there. The local rector, Peter Swale-Reid, clearly has some history with Lydia – a flamboyant woman who has attracted multiple admirers over the years. Stanley Hawkinge is another of the host’s casualties – a man who secretly carries a torch for Lydia in a kind of silent devotion. Also present are the party are Lady Dingle and her beautiful niece, Honoraria; and Major Boddy, a retired military man and lover of detective fiction.
Late one afternoon, Lydia is found dead in her studio which had been locked from the inside – a practice she always observed when working. At first, the presence of a gun suggests suicide; however, as more details emerge, the possibility of foul play cannot be ruled out – at least for Major Boddy, who, with his enthusiasm for crime fiction, is something of an amateur sleuth. When the Coroner brings in a verdict of suicide, Boddy remains somewhat doubtful. So, ably assisted by former batman, Syd Gammon, the Major sets out to investigate the circumstances surrounding Lydia’s death to solve the puzzle himself.
Unsurprisingly, several suspects emerge, all with potential reasons for wanting Lydia silenced or out of the way. However, the real joy of this mystery lies not in the unravelling of the crime but in the manner of Major Boddy’s investigations. There’s plenty of amusing military-style banter here, particularly between the Major and his batman, Syd.
The morning after the inquest Major Boddy came to a decision. Breakfast over, he crossed into the lounge and rang for Syd Gammon.
“Look here, Gammon,” he said abruptly. “Going to take you into my confidence. Need your help.”
“Very good, sir.”
“What was your opinion of the Coroner’s verdict, eh? Don’t be tactful. I want the truth. Understand?” “Yes, sir. Quite, sir. Well, sir, it’s my fixed opinion that Mrs. Arundel was done in by second party.” “Ha! Exactly, Gammon! Now the question is, will you fall into line with me in an attempt to expose this second party, eh? Investigate on the Q.T., what? Keep our suspicions under our hat.”
“Very good, sir.” (p. 303)
Major Boddy makes a most engaging and perceptive sleuth as he goes about gathering evidence before sharing the results of his enquiries with the police. He’s a decent chap – kindly, tactful and level-headed, especially as various secrets begin to emerge.
All in all, this is another splendid mystery from Jon Bude – a tale of secret meetings, shifting identities and a smattering of romance. Ideal comfort reading in these strange, unsettling times.
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