The Division Bell Mystery

 The Division Bell Mystery (1932) by Ellen Wilkinson

Ellen Wilkinson was one of England's first female MPs and gives readers an intimate look at the hallowed halls of Parliament in this, her first...and only detective novel. Her debut novel introduces Robert West, private secretary to the Secretary of State for Home Affairs, who finds himself playing amateur detective when a violent death happens during his Chief's private dinner with reclusive American financier Georges Oissel. 

Initially, the death of Oissel looks like suicide. The Home Secretary (who seems to be nameless...unless I missed it somehow) had to leave his guest a bit before the division bell (a signal to Members that a vote is about to be taken). The room is virtually sealed--all windows locked and the only door under observation of a waiter preparing to bring coffee for the Home Secretary's return as well as West and his own guest who are just coming down the hallway--when a shot is heard. The three men rush to the room and find Oissel shot through the heart and a revolver on the floor nearby.

The House officers quickly arrive and a search is made, but there is no one out of the ordinary to be found. Inspector Blackitt of Scotland Yard is called in and also seems to favor suicide--at first. But Oissel's granddaughter insists that her grandfather would never kill himself. And then the Oissel's apartment is burgled and the Home Secretary's own man who had been serving as a kind of body guard is killed. And then...the evidence (lack of scorching of any sort) supports the theory of murder. But if it is murder, how did the murderer get away? West and Blackitt will have to solve the impossible crime if they're going to nab the killer.

Wilkinson does an excellent job of setting the scene. Even this Yank began to feel at home in the House of Commons--it was so well-described. It was fun to see the inner workings of the 1930s Parliament--the machinations and tricks and deals to get things done. And to realize that "the more things change, the more they stay the same." Her characters are vivid and well-defined and I think it's a shame she didn't write more mysteries, especially if they would have featured Lord Dalbreattie and West investigating again. Inspector Blackitt is given the short end of the stick, though. After showing how it couldn't be suicide and beginning to investigate, he sort of fades into the background. 

She doesn't do too badly with the impossible crime either--especially given that this was her first attempt at a detective novel. One one real complaint is that I can't remember a particular thing being mentioned about the room where Oissel was killed. It's kind of important to solving the mystery. I just went back and reread all the scenes I could remember that took place in Room J (as it's known) and I couldn't find mention of it at all. So, I don't see how the reader could possibly have figured out how it was done.

Overall a thoroughly enjoyable read. ★★★★

First line: No matter how exciting the day, the House of Commons loses all interest between the hours of 7 am and 9 pm.

The public was not quite sure of him [the Prime Minister] because he, elusive, incalculable, was never quite sure of himself....to some degree he reflected the lack of purpose of his period. It was counted to him for a virtue that he could answer any question and leave the questioner soothed, but completely in the dark as to what he meant. (p. 159)

"Flossie" [the Home Secretary] was priceless. He had committed the most unpardonable piece of folly, he had outraged every official British tradition. If the facts were suspected not only the Government, but the Party were irretrievably ruined, and there he sat, a pillar of the Established Church and the Established Everything Else, shocked at the wickedness of the the unknown burglars. (p. 167)

Robert felt like he ought to apologize for the poor old Parliament that had insisted on having a mystery although it ought to have known that Lord Dalbeattie didn't like them. (p. 175)

"The police are no match for a really highly trained servant, especially one accustomed to holding his or her tongue in a place like the House of Commons. I learned that fact in a very costly way when I was trying to get a divorce. My wife knew it, and I paid for the lesson. (Lord Dalbeattie; p. 179)

"But it is no use trying to unravel a mystery like this unless you are prepared to face every possibility, and keep your own emotions out of it. Find the truth, and then let your feelings dictate what you should do with it. That seems to me to be the only common-sense way." (Lord Dalbeattie; p 182)

Last line: "The police forgot the river."
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Deaths = two shot