Royal Bed for a Corpse by Max Murray
published 1955
Comments are still pouring in for the Smugglers' post - I delayed posting again to leave the field open, but now it's time for a new topic. However, smuggling comments still more than welcome, and they will be read. Also comments on Georgette Heyer, and a detailed discussion on the actor Patrick McGoohan, and I would defy you to guess why he came up. But if you want to talk about The Prisoner - fill your boots. Also, how I have spent my whole life thinking two different authors are one person - the Hodge family - and was Theseus a flawed personality? Prohibition is discussed, and also: how many children does Gladys Mitchell's Laura have?
I have given up being astonished by the wide range of topics that can develop from quite a niche original subject - and am ever grateful for the diversity, the sharing of knowledge, and the good nature of everyone involved. Thank you, Clothes in Book-ers.
If Inspector Jim Wilson could have seen Judith and me at
the bar of the Crown sitting at the counter drinking cocktails he might have
thought he had made a foolish bargain…
I really enjoy Max Murray’s books – there’s a few on the blog – they always have very different settings, there’s no series sleuth. They
have solid backgrounds, and discuss some serious issues, but are also very
funny and nicely short. And they ususally give me great picture opportunities.
This one – a present from my friend Chrissie – is well up
to standard, being a weird mix of spy thriller and traditional country house
mystery. Our hero is part of a posh family who have taken to opening their
house to the public: coach parties arrive all the time.
I very much enjoyed the detail that his Lordship showed the
visitors round in person on some days, but the days the butler did it were
actually more popular – ‘a genuine butler these days is rarer than a peer of
the realm’.
I liked also: ‘there are two streams of life that are said
to have saved the British aristocracy from running to seed – American girls and
the English stage.'
Then one day, as the Lord is about to show the visitors the
Royal bedroom, he finds there is a corpse in there already. We are only on the
second page and the story is very much under way.
Our narrator, Brian, is the nephew and heir of the Lord,
and after a ‘good war’ in the RAF, has been involved in some spying business.
The corpse is someone he has had considerable dealings with, and so he, Brian, comes under
immediate suspicion.
Incidentally – these are all traditional poshos who went to the right schools and so on. And the Lord insists that Brian would never have committed a murder in the house: he doesn’t rule out a killing, and even a killing by Brian, but ‘certainly not under my roof’. This is repeated several times, by Brian himself too, throughout the book: but this is not an etiquette/honour/shame rule that I was aware of. I haven’t come across it before in my extensive reading of traditional Golden Age mysteries. And I also once wrote an etiquette book and plainly failed in my duty of including this rule. I don’t quite know why this would make it so much worse.
Anyway, on we go. Mysterious spies turn up all over the
place, a female reporter tries to find out more. Brian is repeatedly told he
will hang for this murder. The wife of the dead man, it turns out, has been
tucked away in the gate-keeper’s lodge by Brian.
The tone of the book varies a fair bit – as if Murray not
sure whether he’s doing John le Carre or the Famous Five. Both equally welcome round here of course. Brian has a friend
called Hilary who is rather PG Wodehouse and cheers things up a lot – he’s the
young idiot who isn’t.
The young people – Brian, Hilary, & the lady reporter (the Chief Constable’s daughter, a key
player, is for some reason left at home this time) - go on a strange trip to a
very creepy mental hospital. It is reminiscent of a scene in Graham Greene’s Ministry of Fear which I featured recently. As is traditional, it's an imposing former country house. Hilary talks about playing tennis there before the war, and there is a take on the long-lost world in which being
an amateur or a professional at sports is of vital importance.
There’s an oddity – early on, we are introduced to a pony,
and a second gardener, who are both named Henry. Nothing is made of this, and
both then disappear completely from the story.
Brian takes time out from his derring-do to lecture one of the women at length about the future of the planet, the horrors of war, and the likelihood of nuclear meltdown. And then, how all this affects his feeling about patriotism, treachery, willingness to take hits on behalf of his country. It was thoughtful and reasonable, but didn’t fit in well.
The climax comes.
#justsaying – if 2x people are meeting and one tells
the other to wear ‘old clothes… without tags’ would this not suggest something
dire, would it not be better (if you are a very experienced spy) not to
say this? But Brian has a suitable outfit, you feel he is hoping for some
praise from the other chap:
I had an old seaman’s jersey
that I used to wear when I went sailing. I put that on with a pair of slacks
and down-at-heel shoes and a cap
(Picture perhaps a little too smart)
All in all, great fun and good value as both spy thriller and mystery.
Top picture: In a Bar by Frederick William Elwell
Glad you enjoyed it, Moira. However I do feel that you were remiss in your book on etiquette as committing murder under your host's roof is just not done in the best circles. Don't you remember Lady Macbeth: 'What? in our house?' Chrissie
ReplyDelete...but she was giving herself away, as in the best detective stories! It was an unnatural response, as the next line points out - 'too cruel anywhere'.
DeleteMind you, I really don't think Lady Macbeth had read my book of etiquette, I think her behaviour can be challenged in many aspects 😀😀😀
Lady Macbeth not a good role model in any aspect, although I suppose you might admire her initiative
Delete... and attention to cleanliness, hand-washing etc
DeleteI also thought of Lady Macbeth’s odd comment, though it’s difficult to know (given the circumstances) what else she could have said! Can anyone think of anything suitable?
Delete'But how dreadful. Where was the bodyguard? How can we catch the murderer?' If she was in a GA book she could have said 'It must have been the servants' or 'a passing tramp, or an escaped lunatic I think.'
DeleteNow, what clues could they have been looking for in the dark castle....?
I'd definitely want to know if the murderer was still at large--"Did they catch the guy?" Of course, Lady Macbeth already knew the answer to that one.
DeleteLady Macbeth being questioned by a courtly suspicious sleuth is a splendid idea. Surely somebody must have done it somtime?
DeleteI have a vague idea that James Thurber wrote a piece about Macbeth as if it were a modern crime story. But it is very vague ...
DeleteSovay
The Macbeth Murder Mystery. An American woman who loves mystery novels stays in a hotel with nothing else to read except Macbeth and offers her own solution to the murder. She feels that Macbeth and the Macbeth Woman are shielding each other - "A big strong man like that doesn't go around seeing ghosts."
DeleteNerys
Thanks, that does sound worth seeking out.
DeleteThe English humour writer Arthur Marshall had a very funny piece where a weekend guest at Glamis Castle writes a thank you letter to the Macbeths - very much in the style of a chatty 1930s socialite. She says what a lovely time they had, and whatever her husband thinks he saw while going to the bathroom late at night - obviously he didn't, it was a drunken vision. Meanwhile they'll be seeing those young things Malcolm and Donalbain soon, lots to catch up on. It is a not-very-veiled blackmail letter and beautifully done.
Lord Whosis sounds like one of those heavy Victorian fathers: "Not under my roof you don't!" BTW, is the fellow in the last pic wearing "grey flannel bags"? I just read a Mitchell book in which these garments played a part. I'd read of them in other GA books and assume they are the objects of "debagging" but wasn't sure if they were just baggy trousers or a specific type.
ReplyDeleteI think the “bags” referred to are Oxford Bags - a particularly and sometimes ludicrously wide and flappy style of masculine trousers popular in the mid-20s onwards, and brought back into fashion from time to time. I’d say the trousers in the illustration are definitely “slacks” rather than “bags”.
DeleteBut I think he wasnt forbidding it, he was saying Brian would naturally never commit such a faux pas...
Deletethe commenter above defines Oxford bags nicely. They were a specific style, which led to a certain use of the phrase generally. 'all wool and a yard wide' was a phrase I once came across. the man in the picture is all trim in his sailing trousers, which were often made of a kind of canvas material - not as still as painting canvas, but firm and hard-wearing, and not minding getting wet.
* not as stiff as painting canvas
DeleteA remark was made in the book that any man could wear another man's "bags" and no one would be able to tell that they weren't his own! So I suspected a good fit was not at all important!
DeleteThey were very loose. Male equivalent of palazzo pants?
DeleteI am just reading a different Mitchell book where, hilariously, the Dame's nephew Carey arrives at a nudist colony (yes, I can't wait to blog on this) and his welcomer says
"Your bags?"
“I know. I’ll soon have them off,” said Carey soothingly.
"No, no. Your baggage. Your kit. Your suitcase and whatnot.”
(Carey says he doesn't see what luggage he needs as a nudist, apart from toothbrush and razor)
It was so funny to come across it when I had just been reading the comments...
Somehow, the blend of spy thriller and country house murder seems to work much better here than it would seem that it would, Moira. And I do like the writing style. I do think it's unseemly, though, to commit murder in a house where you are a guest. Chrissie's right about that!
ReplyDeleteYes, it could have gone either way, but I definitely liked it.
DeleteI guess some people in our favourite books are going to have to up their game once they hear about the etiquette rule...
Good manners could be a problem for detectives too. How does one politely inform people that they are murder suspects--some of the suspects certainly seem to think the copper has Some Nerve doing so.
DeleteAnd of course there’s that recurring etiquette problem for the gentry – how to treat the policeman. In the good old days before Hendon Police College he would be a slow-witted, H-dropping son of the lower orders who could safely be sent to the trademen’s entrance, fed (if necessary) in the servants’ hall, and addressed as “my man”. But come the 1930s he could easily turn out to be Cousin Mary’s second boy Cyril …
DeleteSovay
One of the things I like about Georgette Heyer's crime novels is that no-one at all minds being a suspect, chatting to the police and so on, it is a refreshing change. I particularly like the lady who explains to the police why she should be their prime suspect.
DeleteYes, Sovay, it was a trope that got tired in GA books: 'oh goodness, the inspector from Scotland yard is a gent!'
Not just a trope in mysteries – more than one PG Wodehouse hero comments on the social awkwardness of being frog-marched out of the Trafalgar Square fountain on Boat Race Night by a chappie one was at school with.
DeleteSovay
I suppose that reduces your chances of giving a false name! Didnt they all appear in court the next day listed as Charles Chaplin and Stanley Baldwin?
DeleteThat sounds highly likely. Bertie Wooster's friend Oliver Sipperley is certainly sentenced to 30 days without the option on one occasion under the name of Leon Trotzky - "which,” [the magistrate] said, giving Sippy the eye again, “I am strongly inclined to think an assumed and fictitious name."
DeleteSovay
I never quite knew how they got away with it - was it not perjury? was no proof of identity needed?
DeleteIn Wodehouse World there never seems to be an issue – and even if the police were minded to enquire into identity, they’d hardly have time. The characters are generally scooped up after an evening on the lash, spend what’s left of the night in the police cells, and are up before the beak, tried and sentenced in plenty of time to totter over to the Drones for a pre-lunch cocktail; whether things moved that fast in real life, I have no idea.
DeleteI’m not sure how one would establish identity in the real-world 1920s and 1930s – though it comes up often enough in Golden Age mysteries, with all their many imposters. I suppose part of the answer is suggested in Agatha Christie’s A Murder is Announced - before WW2 people were more likely to remain part of the community where they had grown up, and so everyone there would be able to vouch for them. But before the days of cheap package holidays and mass car ownership two of the ID documents we take for granted (passport and driver’s licence) would probably be held only by a minority of the population.
Sovay
Yes all very true, and I am now exercised in trying to work out how people could prove who they were.
DeleteMind you - the Christie take is very compelling and memorable. But I suspect it is one of those things people have been saying since the beginning of time - 'children are worse-behaved, young people behave very badly now, and they also dont dance in an attractive way and listen to horrible music, nobody reads books any more, no-one writes thank you letters and if they do their handwriting is terrible'. etc. I fear it is human nature...
Also - if you read social history, with reports on people's real lives, they were always moving round the whole time: servants didn't wonderfully stay with the same family forever, people did move to London and out again, there were newcomers in villages., people buying and selling the posh houses. Laurence Stone's book on marriage and relationships were a revelation to me in that respect.
In the Patricia Wentworth book I’m currently reading (Pilgrim’s Rest, set in February 1944) Frank Abbott says it’s a lot more difficult for people to deliberately “disappear” since the war started because of the requirement for identity cards, ration books &c &c – but he then contradicts himself by saying that the missing man must simply have gone off and joined the forces under an assumed name.
DeleteWas it the Duke of Wellington who was said to have disapproved of the railways because they would encourage the common people to move about? But as you say, doubtless they always did! I think Letty Blacklock may have been focusing on people at her level of society – IIRC she says that before the war, even if someone new moved into the village they would know someone you knew, and probably bring letters of introduction.
Sovay
Well let's just say Letty Blacklock has a nerve!
DeleteAgain, I think that kind of disapproval from the Duke of Wellington (admirable in some ways but not a wholly lovely man) is something that has always been voiced. ('them new-fangled donkey carts, giving people ideas').
In the first world war it is widely reported that under-age boys signed up, sometimes under different names, and the recruiting officers were quite happy to turn a blind eye. No proof required there.
I wouldn’t have thought the authorities in WW2 would have been so cavalier about under-age boys trying to join up – there seems to have been rather less of that 1914 “war is a thrilling adventure that any boy worth his salt should want to be part of” attitude.
DeleteThe potential recruit in Pilgrim’s Rest would have been clearly of age, but even so, surely they’d want some confirmation that he wasn’t eg an enemy alien. Though in WW2 fiction (and I guess in real life too) there was always the possibility of taking over a new identity, complete with supporting documentation, from a casualty – ECR Lorac’s Murder by Matchlight comes to mind, also Christie’s Taken at the Flood.
Sovay
Yes I'm sure formalities had changed a lot by 1939. But still I don't think it was that hard to mix things up if you put your mind to it. And yes, taking over a dead person's identity doesn't seem to have been that hard. I think one of Frederick Forsyth's 1970s thrillers had someone finding details of a child who had died, then applying for passport etc in their name. It was claimed that this was quite widesrpead, not difficult, and untraceable.
DeleteThe Day of The Jackal<\i> - I haven’t read the book but the identity-theft method was also described in the film (starring Edward Fox), which I have seen.
DeleteSovay
do you think he spoiled it for the spies and bad boys, did the authorities start to be more careful once this method had been broadcast so widely? I remember thinking 'it can't be that simple'...
DeleteIt seems to have taken years for the authorities to close the loophole - presumably the rise of computers has made it much easier to check new passport applications against birth and death records than it used to be back in the 70s.
DeleteSovay
Exactly - digitized records changed everything. But up till then it's hard to think of a flaw in the criminal reasoning. Used by the 'not criminal' secret services too allegedly.
DeleteWait, what? A book of etiquette?
ReplyDeleteCool!
Susan D
Yes, two editions of it. Long out of print, but it was a fun project back in the day, and I enjoy my wholly self-appointed role as etiquette expert.
DeleteIt was published in other countries and languages, which I always think is weird, as etiquette is very culture-specific
I think it's fair to say that in Golden Age mysteries the "no murder under your host's roof" rule was more honoured in the breach than the observance! It ties in with the etiquette about not murdering your host whilst under their roof (see Glencoe); I trust you DID cover that in your etiquette book? Which in turn reminded me of Henry Angketell in in Agatha Christie's The Hollow, speculating uneasily about whether his wife Lucy might have murdered John Christow; he doesn't seem to be wholly convinced by her assurances that she would never murder anyone she'd actually invited to the house, though a self-invited visitor would be fair game.
ReplyDeleteSovay
Well done for finding a Christie reference! I like Lucy's rule (while otherwise quite uncharmed by her), very sensible.
DeleteGlencoe will be appearing again in an upcoming post...
In the particular case of this book, it is not a question of guests and hosts - the young man is in effect the son of the house.
It looks like the etiquette is going to get a bit complicated, and more information is needed about the victim – if he’s an invited guest then Brian as the “son” of the house (and therefore, in effect, a host) certainly shouldn’t murder him. But is he one of the half-crown trippers and if so, do they count as invited guests? Does the fact that they’ve paid to come in affect their status as potential murderees and if so, how?
DeleteAll this needs to be straightened out in readiness for your new revised edition. Meanwhile I am with you on Lucy Angketell’s dubious charm, though at least AC indicates that not everyone finds her eccentrically delightful (unlike Angela Thirkell and Lady Emily Leslie).
Sovay
New situations certainly require new rules, a clarification of the etiquette. I'm sure there is an Association of Stately Home Owners - perhaps it was on the agenda?
DeleteOften people have memberships of the National Trust, which means they can visit any of the relevant houses. I'm going to say that that gives you less rights not to be murdered, because you haven't paid it directly to the house you are visiting. Controversial, perhaps, but I don't hold back in my ethical views.
I note your point about the National Trust, though as a member myself I’m not too happy about the implications. Perhaps a modest additional donation at the individual property, signified by a lapel badge to be handed back on departure, could secure immunity from murder whilst on the premises.
DeleteThis is clearly a situation that calls for an official Detective Fiction Expert – I’m surprised that the ASHO hasn’t been in touch with enquiries about your services (and, of course, consultancy fees).
Sovay
Yes it's a mystery isn't it? I would probably have to visit various houses as an honoured guest, staying in the best bedroom (without a corpse) and having splendid meals. Must remember to pack my bedjacket.
DeleteDon’t forget to pack the bridge coat! There will be long draughty corridors to negotiate on the way down to dinner.
DeleteSovay
An excellent point! Also biscuits and a book to keep in my room so I don't have to go downstairs to the library in the middle of the night and look around, by chance right by the drawer where the secret submarine plans are.
DeleteThe meals might not always be splendid. Surely not every stately home could have a superb French chef, otherwise Bertie's aunt wouldn't be panicking at the thought of losing hers (Anatole?). Perhaps you could also compile a sort of Michelin guide?
DeleteBe sure to borrow a conspicuous garment and walk either on a cliff edge or through a graveyard.
DeleteNerys
I would let them know that I would expect excellent meals in return for my advice.
DeleteNerys - yes indeed, and let everyone know beforehand that I will be walking there alone. For inside the house I need one of those multi-branched candlesticks for creeping down the stairs - I don't know if I have to bring my own?
And don't forget that the conspicuous garment should belong to someone else, preferably someone unpopular or threatening.
DeleteYes indeed
DeleteHmm, I think you're straying into Gothic romance territory now, Moira. But hey, why not?
DeleteI suspect I'm not alone in saying I'd be up for reading a book on Murder Etiquette. It seems to be practically writing itself... And we would all pitch in with more ideas.
Susan D
What does one wear to a murder? Or is it "What should one serve for dinner? Would partridge strike the right note?" (Lucy)
DeleteEveryone got given a "bed candle" - they were laid out, already lit, on a table in the hall. (Lucy)
DeleteIt does sound like a great idea. What to wear for an inquest has popped up recently, and of course all those slightly dubious women saying that mourning does or doesn't suit them.
DeleteLucy Angkatell was the one for what to serve after a murder wasn't she? Was she the partridge one?
Good to know about the candles, Lucy.
A multi-branched candelabrum would not be at all the thing – you must have a single guttering flame, easily extinguished by one of the many, many draughts …
DeleteAs far as clothing for roaming the dark corridors goes, you have a choice between decorative but flimsy negligée (see the Countess in The Seven Dials Mystery) and substantial woollen dressing-gown (see any Miss Silver book). I’d go the Miss Silver route, though probably without the indestructible crochet trim – I suspect that when archaeologists excavate the ruins of West Leaham Street thousands of years from now, they’ll unearth Miss S’s dressing gown trim still looking just as “good” as the day she made it.
I think (though I’m not sure) that it was Lucy Angketell who decided that eating a full dinner just after a murder would appear heartless, but substantial sandwiches and coffee would be acceptable.
Sovay
In a household of shocked and suspicious people, a full dinner might be a waste of food!
DeleteNot sure the average Golden Age hostess would concern herself about that - unless she was worried that the cook might give notice if all the dishes came back to the kitchen untouched. Anatole would certainly do so, murder or no murder.
DeleteThe immediate aftermath of a murder I suspect is also one of the very few situations in which it's acceptable for the gentry not to "dress" for dinner.
Sovay
I can see you both have your rules for living well worked out, Marty and Sovay.
DeleteI checked The Hollow - turns out it's Gudgeon the butler who knows the right form and arranges the coffee and sandwiches instead of a full lunch. At dinner that evening there is roast duck - but cold, not hot - and a caramel custard, which Lucy approves of because it's quite pleasant but no-one's favourite pudding. Here again it's the cook who's selected the menu.
DeleteSovay
Oh thank you - I was going to look when I had time.
DeleteGudgeon - what a great butler name.
Is it he who replaces the kettles every time when lucy keeps burning them out?
In the Poirot episode of The Hollow, Gudgeon was played by Edward Fox,"the Jackal"!
DeleteThere are crossovers everywhere!
DeleteIt is indeed Gudgeon who deals with the kettles, and who has probably prevented Lucy from burning the house to the ground on numerous occasions.
Sovay
That's a great connection! Would mean nothing to most people, but for us....
DeleteNot available at my usual haunts (Open Library, Faded Page, Hathi Trust), and it doesn't look as though an enterprising publisher has seen fit to send it out as an ebook. I'll have to see if our village librarian can work a miracle and find me a copy.
ReplyDeleteHow annoying! Galileo Publishing have reprinted a couple of his books in the UK, let's hope they do some more
DeleteWorldCat lists several copies, maybe an interlibrary loan?
DeleteYou see secondhand green and white penguin copies in the UK, but perhaps not in US
DeleteI've definitely never come across Max Murray but I will keep my eyes open!
ReplyDeleteSpeaking of etiquette, there is a Ngaio Marsh where thank you letters are part of the plot, which is quite a contrast to the many book in which poison pen letters play a part. I think murder under the host's roof is the most fun when the author really has the host overreact - like Lord Caterham in The Seven Dials Mystery (am I now always going to think of Helen Bonham Carter?) or perhaps the host in Gladys Mitchell's Speedy Death.
If anyone’s ever murdered in my house, I reserve the right to over-react in the most extravagant manner!
DeleteSovay
Yes, you see we would miss all that if people obeyed the etiquette rules.
Deleteand as Sovay says, what an excuse for dramatic behaviour
I was reflecting on Brian’s willingness to take the steps which seem intended to lead to his becoming an unidentifiable corpse, in the light of a comment in one of Agatha Christie’s thrillers that RAF pilots tend to be very brave but not especially bright. Not having read the book, I can’t say whether or not this is unfair to Brian …
ReplyDeleteAdding the book to the list in any case – I thought I had a copy in one of the TBR piles (I remember seeing quite a few floating about in second-hand bookshops) but it seems not.
Sovay
It's a sweeping generalization, but you feel in your heart of hearts that it's true!
DeleteBrian isn't too dim - but if he was much brighter there would be much less plot.
Hope you find the book.
I did wonder whether the fact that Archie Christie was a pilot in the Royal Flying Corps might have some bearing on the view expressed in the Agatha Christie (not sure which book it was, but certainly written post-divorce - They Came to Baghdad maybe).
DeleteSovay
Nice idea, a passing blow at Archie.
DeleteIf anyone can track it down, please let us know!
I think it's true of GA mysteries in general that if people were brighter (or at least acted like intelligent and reasonable folks), the plots would suffer quite a bit.
DeleteYes indeed. And it's a fine line between slowness and stupidity which are acceptable, and that which makes us hurl the book across the room.
Delete