Read May 2024
Recommended for fans of Wodehouse, wordplay
★ ★ ★ ★
This is clearly written by someone who loves language, right down to the musicality of the spoken word. This, of course, presents a problem to the reader like me who sails along from one sentence to the next, tacking only when a concept is particularly rough. But this, this is a light-hearted little craft that skims the surface of the waves, cheerful and sparkling. It probably even deserves to be read aloud, but that's not really my jam. No, the real mystery is how Fitzsimmons manages to get me chuckling throughout this entire book. Admittedly, it is shorter at 220 pages, and admittedly, I was looking for a break between a number of reads that were Very Serious. But how can you not chuckle at Anty Boisjoly's telegram to the Chief of Police, who confronts Anty with his particular word choice:
"Freak fatality at Ficklehouse Felling… Worrying want of Wittershams… Crucial come quickly (consider correspondence at Cleeve)."
"I was trying to strike a tone," I said. "Sad business, after all."
In this installment, Anty Beaujolais finds himself at a country estate to attend a seance held by the famous Professor Smudge, with not one but two personal valets in tow (one is in training). Also in attendance are his cousin, Ripley, the pair of siblings who currently run the estate, assorted children, a chambermaid, the house man-servant and a cook. It soon becomes clear that an accidental death is no accident, as he and Detective Ivor discuss:
"'The perfect locked-room murder.'
'It's not a locked-room murder," claimed Ivor.
"It's very like a locked-room murder,' I countered.
'The room wasn't even locked.'
'Impossible, then," I conceded. 'The perfect impossible murder.'
'Clearly, Mister Boisjoly, it was not.'"
But the motive initially eludes them:
"'Has anyone motive for murder?'
'Aquinas would say not," I recollected, 'but he's probably never ordered the steak and kidney pie in the bar car of the Brighton Belle.'
'I refer to the specific murder in question.'"
How can you not chuckle at that sidestep, drawing as it does on philosophy and a commentary on the local food? We soon realize it's a classic country house mystery, which Anty sums up in his unique head-scratching manner:
"In a household population of nine we've managed to accumulate twenty-seven suspects."
I mean, I'm chortling writing it. It's like a murder mystery handled by Monty Python, only the mystery actually works, more or less. Lots of commentary on food and drink, art, the daffiness of a particular maid, the learning curve of his apprentice valet, and a one-legged duck help round out the comedy. Oh, it also includes the best premise of an autobiography that I've yet heard:
"So, of course, I was distracted to double-vision by the widely-repeated rumour that you're writing your memoirs. Is it true?"
'It is," said Ogden with warmth. 'I call it, 'A Volume in Two Lives'. I intend to write part two, you see, from beyond the grave.'
'Excellent," I encouraged. "Readers love a cliffhanger.'"
I'd recommend it to people who enjoy Wodehouse style, the Golden Age of Mysteries, and Monty Python. I will look forward to checking out the other books in the series.
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