Six Nuns & a Shotgun

 Six Nuns & a Shotgun (1975) by Colin Watson

In the eighth book of the Flaxborough series, it looks like the English town is about to be overrun by US gangsters and scantily clad ecclesiastics. Flaxborough has its "big wheels" (as known in the United States)--businessmen with their fingers in several pies. And two of them have a bitter rivalry going on. Councillor Henry Crispin and Arnold Hatch, owner of the Floradora Club have been trying to outdo and sabotage each other every chance they get. If Crispin adds on to his house, then Hatch must build a swimming pool. If Hatch gets a sailing yacht, then Crispin must get a slightly bigger one. Snide remarks and subtle digs aren't in it. But then things ramp up. Hatch installs what we designate today as "smart" curtains. When the light dims outside, the curtains automatically close--and, of course, when things get bright, they automatically open.

So...one night when Hatch and a friend are entertaining a couple of young women in the master bedroom, some thoughtless person parks right outside and turns on their high-beam headlights. And the antics are on display for all the world to see. Not long after, during the Commodore's Muster, the annual opening of the boating season when all the boat owners sedately run their vessels down the river, Hatch goads Crispin into a bit of a race and Crispin's boat comes a cropper on a submerged log (that mysteriously has spikes sticking out of it--of which, we the reader are aware, but is never proven to our friends in the book).

When Inspector Purbright gets a warning that American gangsters and naked nuns are descending upon Flaxborough, he wonders if this is more of the feud between the two businessmen. But he can't find any evidence of nuns (either in habits or out) and the only likely candidate in the gangster department is a Sicilian-American importer of olive oil who has recently arrived. The feud comes to an abrupt end when Hatch is ruthlessly murdered with his own shotgun during his annual Medieval banquet at the Floradora Club. The good inspector must untangle the clues to see if the American or Crispin...or persons unknown have done away with businessman.

Once upon a time (back in about 1991), I read this one from the library. That was before blogging and writing up more detailed reviews. I simply recorded it as "This book is classic Colin Watson and very funny." Let's see how that holds up in 2025. Well, Watson is funny...but I think I'd knock the "very" off that statement now. The funniest bits are when Inspector Purbright is interacting with his Chief Constable, Harcourt Chubb. Chubb doesn't really seem to grasp police work and Purbright leads him ever so gently through the details of routine while Chubb tries to sit back and look wise. The give and take of these exchanges are quite amusing, but I wouldn't say the book is "very funny" overall. 

The prose is pleasant enough and the mystery is fairly good--and even fairly clued, though I didn't spot some of the clues early enough (SLIGHT SPOILER: I got a bit muddled over which pieces of furniture belonged to which character). I think at this point in my reading life I would have enjoyed this a bit more (and kept my original rating of four stars) if we had been in Purbright's company for more of the story. Crispin and Hatch annoyed me and I think I would have liked the murder to be more upfront and to have followed Purbright as he investigated the incidents rather than to live through them with Crispin and Hatch on the way to the murder. But--still an enjoyable mystery and a very quick read. ★★★ and  1/4.

First line: The cablegram was addressed to Hatch, Floradora, Flaxborough, England.

"Let's hope one of those nice people don't get knocked off," said Bast, leaving. "The species is nearly extinct." (p. 76)

Last lines: The inspector's [car] took some time to start. It usually did.
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Deaths = one shot