Shadows Before (1939) by Dorothy BowersProfessor Matthew Weir escaped the gallows in 1937 by the skin of teeth. In Scotland, the verdict would likely have been brought in as "Not Proven." His highly abrasive, interfering sister-in-law had died from arsenical poisoning and the Weir's equally poisonous housekeeper had done her darnedest to see that her employer wound up with a noose around his neck. Weir university had stood by him during the entire ordeal (perhaps a point in his favor with the jury...), but he felt impelled to give up his post and flee to the country where he and his family lived in a small Tudor manor house near Oxford for two years without incident. Unless you count the slight mental decline of his wife.
It's thought wise to bring in a companion for Kate Weir--especially to accompany her on walks where she's apt to pick wild herb and whatnot to brew up her special teas. The doctor, who is instrumental in hiring Miss Brett (the companion), insists that the teas are harmless. But...Mrs. Weir had been experiencing gastric distress before Miss Brett was hired. Is that linked to the teas? Or, as the housekeeper (yes, the same one) points out, the illnesses seemed to follow hard on visits that Kate Weir made to Alice Gretton, one of the few local women with whom Mrs. Weir has made friends--could Alice have been giving Kate something to make her sick? It's interesting that the episodes stop as soon as Alice Weir disappears from her cottage.
But then Miss Brett arrives and Mrs. Weir has another, final bout of illness. And when the autopsy is done arsenic is once again the culprit. Was Matthew Weir erroneously acquitted and has he struck again? If so, he must be hoping that his wife's niece is also no longer among the living--because if Joyce Murray is alive and well in Australia, then she'll inherit everything except 6,000 pounds. But if she's dead....well, Matthew's inheritance will be much bigger. When Scotland Yard arrives in the persons of Chief Inspector Dan Pardoe and Detective Sergeant Salt, they'll have a job to find the guilty party--whether the obvious or not. Also cluttering up the possible suspects are Matthew's niece and nephew (who could benefit indirectly), an old gypsy woman who seemed to take a sudden dislike to Mrs. Weir after a brief friendship, and Matthew's brother, Augustus, who also could benefit from a brother with more ready cash. When a vehicle suffers a mysterious "accident" and the gypsy disappears, Pardoe realizes he'll need to work quickly to prevent more deaths.
This one gets off to a slow start with the lead up to the hiring of Miss Brett and her train journey to Steeple Cloudy--although I did love Miss Flora Hickey, a schoolteacher from Indiana (!), and her observations of her fellow passengers. I was disappointed that she didn't play a bigger part throughout the story (hoping for a sortof a mild version of Miss Marple and her keen people skills). But she does come through towards the end, giving Pardoe a vital clue. And speaking of Queens of Crime (Christie), I found the final letter in this partial epistolary story to be quite Sayers-like. "Mew," the mother of one of the supporting characters, reminds me of the Dowager Duchess in several of her turns of phrase. I wouldn't have minded seeing more of her (or her letters) either.
Once the second murder happens and Pardoe and Salt arrive, things pick up nicely. A good mixture of close questioning of the suspects and action and the clues are displayed fairly (though I missed a few). I noticed an early one and then promptly forgot it once other items drew my attention and was a bit surprised by the ending. If I'd been paying proper attention, I shouldn't have been. A very good outing with Pardoe and Salt. ★★★★
First line (prologue): So, it's all over, Mew, or nearly.
First line (1st chapter): Five months after the death of her employer, Aurelia Brett walked up from Castlebury Station in search of Dr. Smollett's house.
"By all accounts, piecing this, that, and the other together, taking off a slice here and supplying a bit there, she [Miss Leah Bunting] was one of the most difficult, though not most uncommon, types of maiden lady, given over at the same time to good works and to the exercises of an uncharitable tongue. In short, it seemed as if the good works had wrung all the goodness out of her." (Inspector Pardoe; p. 52)
The villagers might, for all he knew, be the heartless scandal-mongers he [the rector] made them out, but when you had a murder (and presumably a murderer) plopped down in your midst, you ought to be permitted a little mongering. (p. 149)
"'He travels fastest who travels alone,'" murmured the A.C. "Play a lone hand when next you do a murder, Sergeant." (p. 186)
Last line: And you will certainly come to me before you go and see Mussolini--Zoe, Nick, and Dinah too, please, and that poor little Freddy if the ogre will let him (I don't mean Mussolini, of course, but the other one). Your loving, Mew
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Deaths = 11 (four poisoned;three natural; two car accident; one train accident; one hit on head)
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