As readers of this blog probably realise by now, I love detective stories. I have read the entire output of Agatha Christie and know the identify of each murderer in every one (that piece of useless knowledge has not exactly helped me in my path through life); loved the Ngaio Marsh stories which I read and re-read for the sheer delight of her slightly theatrical prose and her gorgeous detective Roderick Alleyn (see earlier blog on same here) and last year, thanks to a fellow on line reader discovered, very belatedly the Peter Wimsey stories of D L Sayers. I have read all of those and am now falling back on those 'completed' by Jill Paton Walsh, one of which is lurking in my To Be Read basket as I am keeping in reserve as long as possible. Probably one week I should think....
Another fellow blogger recommended the Lydford mysteries by Andrew Taylor. These are set in the 1950's and the atmosphere of that time, the silence on Sundays when all the shops were shut and the streets are empty, the stultifying boredom of living in a narrow minded gossipy town and the covering up of anything scandalous because of 'what would the neighbours say' beautifully described. I am now coming to the end of these as well.
Donna Leon I have also raved about and the fact that I read all her output in one month, so I am now condemned to waiting each year for her next to come out, and I read the three Simon Serrailer novels by Susan Hill in one weekend and am now biting my nails while waiting for fourth to be published. I have read all of Ruth Rendell, also those written under the name of Barbara Vine and am becoming increasingly desperate for the Next Discovery.
Well before total meltdown took place, I remembered Margery Allingham who I have never read and who was recommended to me by a visitor on this blog (come out come out whoever you are and be thanked) and turned to my shelves as I remembered picking up two brand new Pengion reprints in a book sale a year ago. Yep, there they were and I have now read them.
The first one, Policemen at the Funeral was set in Cambridge, so once again knowing the places and locations mentioned in the story really does help to set the scene, and the murders all happen in an old Victorian house ruled with a rod of iron by a matriarch surrounded by her weak and insignificant children and family. Perfect setting for crime and pure 1930s. I met Albert Campion, who is of aristocratic birth,and his manservant Lugg, a retired burglar and now the obligatory sidekick that every detective seems to need. Campion has the entree with Scotland Yard and is great friends with Inspector Stanislaus Oates and solves crime for 'fun'. The parallels with Lord Peter Wimsey and his man Bunter are inescapable.
The second is Tiger in the Smoke. As I knew nothing about these stories or the order in which they were written, I found that this one was set in post-war London with Campion now older and married and with a son. Some twenty odd years have passed since Policeman at the Funeral and the style seems to me to be totally different from the earlier novel. London is shrouded in thick, heavy dirty fog, a vicious criminal has broken out of prison and is on the run. He has murdered at least four people in his hunt for a mysterious letter which will give him the location of a treasure hidden in the war. His name is Havoc - presumably Margery Allingham was fond of Shakespeare ('cry havoc and let loose the dogs of war') when thinking of his name and in many respects, he reminded me of Pinky in Brighton Rock. The whole book has a dark feeling about it, if it was filmed I feel it would be in black and white, a film noir, and have somebody like Humphrey Bogart in a trench coat wandering around in the fog and making Cheyney like comments out of the corner of his mouth.
I was not totally sure I liked this book very much and yet, by the end, it had gripped me. Havoc is an evil, charismatic, merciless man but Allingham very cleverly gets us on his side, not quite in my case though it was a close run thing. She reveals his tragic character in a marvelous scene between him and Canon Avril in a church in a square in London where the hopelessness of his life is made clear:
"Suppose you uncovered the treasure worth a king's ransom" said Avril. Do you think that you would become somebody else? Do you think that this weary child who is with you when you are alone would not go with you then? What could you buy for him to make him happy?"....... At this the boy wept in his weary rage and his tears fell on Avril. The old man felt the agony of them and was helpless.
The contrast between these two stories, written so far apart, is striking. I shall now have to go back to the beginning and read them in order and see how they develop. As there appear to be around 25+ to read, this will keep me going for a while. I am not totally sure that I have really liked these two very much, but I was unable to put them down once I started so they have obviously got something. Not sure what, but it will be interesting and intriguing to find out.
I have located a website all about Margery Allingham which has reminded me that she lived locally, actually on Mersea Island at one stage which is about half an hour's drive for me, and also lived at Tolleshunt D'Arcy. I am sure I knew this at some stage, but had slipped to the back of my mind so knowing that some of her stories have Essex and Suffolk settings is going to make reading of them even more fascinating. Ruth Rendell lives in Polstead and in her novel A Dark Adapted Eye, written as Barbara Vine, she makes mention of popping into Colchester, getting off the train at Marks Tey and other places that I know well. Why this should make the book more interesting, I don't know, but it does!
SO nice to find an author and have the comforting thought that you have all these books ahead of you before you run out and have to go on the eternal quest for somebody else. Of course, there is always another discovery just around the corner but I think these will keep me going for some time.
