Death in Shallow Water

 Death in Shallow Water (1948) by Miles Burton (Cecil Street)

Synopsis (from the book blurb): Three deaths by drowning within the space of a few weeks in one small English parish where nothing untoward has happened for many years are bound to set tongues wagging. One drowned body could have been an accident; two drowned bodies might have been coincidence; but when it comes to a third corpse found in shallow water, even the cautious village policeman began to think it was a bit of a rum go. Soon the experts are call in, and we meet again Inspector Arnold of Scotland Yard and, inevitably, Desmond Merrion, his complement and friend, in an investigation that gets "curiouser and curiouser" as accident begins to look more and more like Murder.

Our first death is Sir William Watkyn, wealthy ex-shipowner. He was out fishing and, presumably, fell off the bank into the shallow water where he was found. He had a weak heart and it's argued that the shock of the fall made it impossible for him to get up. Next, his unpleasant wife Lady Watkyn is found drowned in her bath basin (no--not bath tub, a sink) while she was apparently washing her hair. And it's argued that the fumes from the chloroform included (for who knows what reason) in the hair lotion was enough to make her woozy enough to fall headfirst in the basin and drown. Next up is the handyman who did jobs for both Sir William and his former captain, Captain Barnham.Two more drownings follow (whoever composed the synopsis above evidently couldn't count) and even though they all could have been accidents, it certainly does look funny that so many in the area are drowning in so little water.

So far I've read three mysteries under the Miles Burton pseudonym and this is the weakest outing yet. The villain of the piece is obvious from the moment they saunter onto the page. The "investigations" by various policemen up to and including Inspector Arnold of the Yard are lacklustre at best. There certainly aren't heaps of clues stacked about for the investigators (or the readers) to pick up. And Desmond Merrion, Arnold's amateur detective sidekick, whips up the solution out of nowhere. It's lucky the culprit thinks that Merrion must have evidence to back up his assertive declarations and decides to confess, because I don't know how they'd get a conviction otherwise. And--I'm not entirely sure that the possible collaborator in the plot is really as innocent as they (Merrion and Arnold) make it seem. The wrap-up is pretty messy (it certainly wouldn't meet Poirot's standard for order and method).

I lost interest in the plot by the half-way mark and only kept plodding along so I could count this for the various challenges that I'd lined it up for. I've got two more of the Burton books on my TBR pile and I hope that they each provide a more entertaining mystery. ★★

In Search of the Classic Mystery Novel, Do You Write Under Your Own Name and the Grandest Game in the World have all reviewed this as well. Please check out their take on Burton's late entry in the annals of Arnold & Merrion. 

First line: The man was evidently no stranger to Winderport, for he found his way by the shortest route from the Central Station to Watergate Street without inquiry.

Last line: It was rumoured that he was to be married intended to settle with his wife and her child in New Zealand.
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Deaths = 6 (one natural; four drowned; one hanged)