A person would likely be hard pressed to find a more amiable investigation into a triple homicide than the one found in The Essex Murders. The sunny worldview is owed (via the author) to the book's protagonists, mystery fiction writer Ned Hope and his plucky fiancée Nancy Johnson. The duo visit Fen Court, the rather derelict estate that Ned has purchased with an eye towards a domestic future, and what is presumed to be a dead carp submerged in a deep pond turns out to be something even less pleasant: three human bodies, only one of which was visible to start. With joie de vivre – or perhaps more accurately esprit de corps(e) – Nancy and Ned become amateur detectives, roles that the quiet but capable Inspector Brews encourages as they aid the police in clue gathering and alibi exploration.
It turns out that Body Number One belongs to a wealthy man named Habershon, and the other victims are his wards, a young man and woman who are pulled from the pond with one's wrist tied to the other's and a note fragment hinting at suicide pinned to the poor woman's dress. A thermos with sedative-laced coffee and an abandoned car are also part of the tableau, but does the picture form the aftermath of a double-suicide and accident or something more sinister? A neighbor named Hench, an obsequious little man who claims to be an ornithologist but confuses a kestrel with a hen-harrier, becomes a prime suspect, as Constable Hoggett saw him in the vicinity at the time of the murders. But what could his motive be? Ned and Nancy (and, by extension, Inspector Brews) plan to find out.
John George Hazlette Vahey's mysteries and thrillers, published under the name Vernon Loder, were a staple of the Collins Crime Club imprint until the author's death in 1938. (Vahey also wrote using the pseudonym Henrietta Clandon, and some of those titles are available again, reprinted by Dean Street Press.) The Essex Murders has a lot to recommend, even as it falls short of the top tier of mystery fiction from the genre's Golden Age. The premise here is intriguing, and the author pushes his plot along at an engaging if unremarkable pace.
The point-of-view is comfortably limited to the couple's experiences, and this is an effective choice that makes Inspector Brews, when he arrives, a jovial sort-of cypher. Ned and Nancy are left to speculate what Brews may be thinking and how the information they have just uncovered might fit into a larger theory; all of this is great fun and, left partially to the reader to fill in the sketch, the inspector paradoxically becomes a more memorable character than if we had been invited in to share his perspective.
John George Hazlette Vahey's mysteries and thrillers, published under the name Vernon Loder, were a staple of the Collins Crime Club imprint until the author's death in 1938. (Vahey also wrote using the pseudonym Henrietta Clandon, and some of those titles are available again, reprinted by Dean Street Press.) The Essex Murders has a lot to recommend, even as it falls short of the top tier of mystery fiction from the genre's Golden Age. The premise here is intriguing, and the author pushes his plot along at an engaging if unremarkable pace.
The point-of-view is comfortably limited to the couple's experiences, and this is an effective choice that makes Inspector Brews, when he arrives, a jovial sort-of cypher. Ned and Nancy are left to speculate what Brews may be thinking and how the information they have just uncovered might fit into a larger theory; all of this is great fun and, left partially to the reader to fill in the sketch, the inspector paradoxically becomes a more memorable character than if we had been invited in to share his perspective.
The Essex Murders also leans more towards a discover-as-you-go mystery yarn than a fair-play puzzle story, although Loder mostly provides the clues needed to play armchair detective. For a story about murder in a deep pond, there's a strangely shallow suspect pool, brought about by the fact that there are barely any other supporting characters at all introduced in the course of the investigation. (Aside from those already named, Habershon's housekeeper Mrs. Hoing is the only other onstage/on-page character.) Still, by the final chapter the author manages to deliver a neat variation on the least likely suspect gambit, even with his limited list of dramatis personae.
This is an enjoyable, breezy mystery with an upbeat charm that seems tailor-made for contemporary GAD fiction readers. Published in the U.S. as The Death Pool (New York: William Morrow, 1931), J.F. Norris has also reviewed The Essex Murders on his site Pretty Sinister Books.
This is an enjoyable, breezy mystery with an upbeat charm that seems tailor-made for contemporary GAD fiction readers. Published in the U.S. as The Death Pool (New York: William Morrow, 1931), J.F. Norris has also reviewed The Essex Murders on his site Pretty Sinister Books.
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