Rediscover Gladys Mitchell - one of the 'Big Three' female crime fiction writers alongside Agatha Christie and Dorothy L. Sayers. When Rupert Sethleigh's body is found one morning, laid out in the village butcher shop but minus its head, the inhabitants of Wandles Parva aren't particularly upset. Sethleigh was a blackmailing money lender and when the peerless detective and renowned psycholanalyst Mrs Bradley begins her investigation she finds no shortage of suspects. It soon transpires that most of the village seem to have been wandering about Manor Woods, home of the mysterious druidic stone on which Sethleigh's blood is found splashed, on the night he was murdered but can she eliminate the red herrings and catch the real killer? Opinionated, unconventional, unafraid...If you like Poirot and Miss Marple, you'll love Mrs Bradley.
"Stop, James!" came in deep rich tones from the depths of the chair. "You are wearing grey flannel trousers!" "Yes," agreed Jim, glancing down at them. "If I had my way," said Mrs Bradley firmly, "grey flannel trousers should be taxed, together with dogs, automobiles, wireless receiving-sets, income, and the colour curiously termed beige."
I like Mitchell's character studies and her humour but her plotting and convoluted storytelling left me, yet again, puzzled beyond what I can put up with. I was lost by the half-way mark, and the red herrings and inconsequential discussions in the second half did nothing to salvage the mystery for me.
Not even the humour and obvious Christie-mockery could make up for it. Shame.
