Available in November from Poisoned Pen Press stateside – the reprinted title is already launched in the UK – 1943’s Murder’s a Swine receives a worthy revival. In his introduction, Martin Edwards explains that Swine (U.S. title, The Grinning Pig) is one of two spirited mystery stories produced during the war years by British literary couple Gordon Neil Stewart and Pamela Hansford Johnson. Both this book and Tidy Death (1940), their prior detection thriller published under the name Nap Lombard, feature socialites Andrew and Agnes Kinghof, a bantering couple in the style of Nick and Nora Charles. To their credit, the Kinghofs aren’t quite as besotted with booze and prove more enjoyable company than Craig Rice’s American equivalents, Helene Brandt and Jake Justus.
Indeed, the style and tone of Murder’s a Swine is intelligent and charming, and if the puzzle plot (and especially the means of coercing the killer to confess) falls a little short, the prose and characterization – not to mention an intriguing setting that provides a snapshot of English suburban living in the early days of the war – keep the reader engaged and entertained. Along with an ARP warden, Agnes Kinghof uncovers the body of a man hidden among sandbags in a darkened alley. The victim proves to be an estranged relative of one of the Kinghofs’ neighbors, a kindly woman with a weak heart named Mrs. Sibley. She soon becomes the target of escalating, pig-centered pranks, with a sow’s head appearing in the service lift and another head popping up uninvited at a Punch and Judy show.
Despite the couple’s efforts, the malevolent prankster soon dispatches Mrs. Sibley, and seems to have set his sights on another relation, “Bubbles” Ashton. Andrew and Agnes work to protect the young woman, and the felicitously named Inspector Eggshell also keeps a close watch. It is Andrew’s cousin, the alternately magisterial and misanthropic Lord Whitestone, who resents the pair’s meddling: the man has ties to Scotland Yard and the Home Office and finds Andrew to be a personal irritant. Due to his stubbornness and portly carriage, Agnes has dubbed Lord Whitestone, half affectionately, “Pig”.
The story is decently plotted and well-paced, and the co-authors display an astute eye for narrative detail. The observational humor regarding characters and situations reminded me at times of the humanist tone I love to find in the novels of Gladys Mitchell. Take this example: Lord Whitestone reluctantly accepts an invitation from the Kinghofs for a night out, only to be held captive as an audience member for a charity talent show featuring Boy Scouts and Girl Guides. The authors describe the scene (and Pig’s growing discomfiture) in this amusing and vivid way:
Indeed, the style and tone of Murder’s a Swine is intelligent and charming, and if the puzzle plot (and especially the means of coercing the killer to confess) falls a little short, the prose and characterization – not to mention an intriguing setting that provides a snapshot of English suburban living in the early days of the war – keep the reader engaged and entertained. Along with an ARP warden, Agnes Kinghof uncovers the body of a man hidden among sandbags in a darkened alley. The victim proves to be an estranged relative of one of the Kinghofs’ neighbors, a kindly woman with a weak heart named Mrs. Sibley. She soon becomes the target of escalating, pig-centered pranks, with a sow’s head appearing in the service lift and another head popping up uninvited at a Punch and Judy show.
Despite the couple’s efforts, the malevolent prankster soon dispatches Mrs. Sibley, and seems to have set his sights on another relation, “Bubbles” Ashton. Andrew and Agnes work to protect the young woman, and the felicitously named Inspector Eggshell also keeps a close watch. It is Andrew’s cousin, the alternately magisterial and misanthropic Lord Whitestone, who resents the pair’s meddling: the man has ties to Scotland Yard and the Home Office and finds Andrew to be a personal irritant. Due to his stubbornness and portly carriage, Agnes has dubbed Lord Whitestone, half affectionately, “Pig”.
The story is decently plotted and well-paced, and the co-authors display an astute eye for narrative detail. The observational humor regarding characters and situations reminded me at times of the humanist tone I love to find in the novels of Gladys Mitchell. Take this example: Lord Whitestone reluctantly accepts an invitation from the Kinghofs for a night out, only to be held captive as an audience member for a charity talent show featuring Boy Scouts and Girl Guides. The authors describe the scene (and Pig’s growing discomfiture) in this amusing and vivid way:
After a few more couplets and a dance, the girls disappeared, only to reappear a few moments later to receive the thunderous applause of their fathers and mothers. When they had disappeared for good, the last three tripping over Bessie Milton, who was trying to get more than her fair share of the reception, a stringy young woman with glasses and pale-blue false teeth announced that Scout Percy Fiddle would give an impersonation of Mae West. This was so embarrassing that Pig took out his season ticket and read it carefully front and back until Percy had bowed his way off the stage.
Stewart and Johnson’s use of their wartime backdrop is also notable, especially as it is used mostly organically. Scenes such as a meeting to discuss residential fire safety precautions and negotiations with a local shopkeeper to purchase rationed meat and dairy are both historically interesting as well as neatly character defining. If the mood generated in Murder’s a Swine falls a little short of Gladys Mitchell’s best evocations of British life during the war – the brooding, dreamlike Sunset over Soho (1943) and the busy, brighter Brazen Tongue (1940) are well worth reading – the suspense of a killer stalking and terrifying women is always at the fore.
I was surprised at how much menace was actually on display; the villain of this story takes more pleasure in terrorizing of his targets than he does moving towards his goal of inheriting a fortune. The Kinghofs conclude early in the story that the criminal is likely a man named Maclagan Steer, a black sheep bearing a grudge against family members he has not seen in decades while exiled abroad. But where the vengeful figure is now, and who he might be impersonating incognito to get closer to his relations, propels the mystery through to a gathering-of-suspects and unmasking-the-killer climax. It’s all very good fun (if a little dark and suspenseful at times), and I am grateful to Martin Edwards, Poisoned Pen Press, and the British Library Crime Classics series for returning this Pig to the page.
Reviews can also be found on my colleagues’ blogs at Beneath the Stains of Time and crossexaminingcrime. I received an advance reading copy from NetGalley in exchange for a forthright review.
Reviews can also be found on my colleagues’ blogs at Beneath the Stains of Time and crossexaminingcrime. I received an advance reading copy from NetGalley in exchange for a forthright review.
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