Ever wonder what it might be like to actually live in one of those ancestral country homes where so many fictional aristocrats in traditional English mysteries seem to live? Ever wish you could live in a castle? As they say, be careful what you wish for. There aren't nearly enough bathrooms (to take just one significant grievance), no central heating, and - of course, in crime fiction, the occasional murder. You may find out more in any number of fine British mysteries, but let me call your attention to one book in particular, written by the late Robert Barnard, called Corpse in a Gilded Cage. In addition to being a very good mystery story, it is also a marvelous social (or, perhaps, anti-social) satire. Barnard, who passed away in 2013, is sadly missed - his books, especially his early ones, have a nice sharp and funny edge to them. Here's what I had to say about Corpse in a Gilded Cage on the podcast nearly a decade ago:
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Poor Percy Spender. He’s a simple man who enjoys his life in one of those lower-class English council flats. So when a couple of relatives suddenly die, and Percy – or Perce, as he prefers to be called – inherits one of those enormous stately homes, he only wants to sell it quickly, take the money, and settle back into his comfortable life in the London district known as Clapham. Unfortunately, those around him have other ideas. Including murder. Welcome to Corpse in a Gilded Cage, by Robert Barnard.
I guess it’s really not fair to call Corpse in a Gilded Cage a "classic" mystery, because it was written in 1984. Robert Barnard is a marvelous author, though, and he most nobly carries on the tradition of earlier writers from the Golden Age, so I’m quite unashamed to suggest that Corpse in a Gilded Cage is a worthy successor to those books. [Ed. note: Barnard was still alive and writing when this program was written and recorded.] It’s a mystery, and one that follows traditional paths on its way to a surprising and well-thought-out conclusion. It’s also a biting social satire of England’s class system, with some scathingly funny bits and comments all the way through the book.
In fact, it’s from that conflict of classes that this story arises. As I mentioned, Perce Spender is a common man, working in an iron-monger’s shop and living in the lower-end London district of Clapham. The deaths of two other Spenders – for the Spenders are a very old family indeed – suddenly turn Perce into the 12th Earl of Ellesmere. That means he and his wife are called upon to get out of their snug little flat and move to an incredibly imposing home, Chetton Hall. It is one of those places where it is perhaps a mile up the driveway, past the Dower House and various other outbuildings, to the main mansion, an enormous place with dozens of bedrooms and, as one of the characters observe, not nearly enough modern conveniences to go with them.
But Perce doesn’t want to be there. He wants to go back to his nice council flat in Clapham. So does his wife, Elsie. Perce has fired all the servants at Chetton Hall – no servants for him, thank you very much. And he has told Mr. Lillywaite, his lawyer, that he only wants to get rid of this enormous mansion with the extensive grounds, pay off the government’s death taxes and get back home to Clapham.
Unfortunately, there are other family members and friends to be considered. There is Perce’s oldest son, Phil, who is currently serving three months in prison for trying to steal a truckload of goods. There is Phil’s wife Dixie, and their children. There are the rest of Perce’s children – a pragmatic daughter and her insurance-agent husband, and another son who appears in pornographic movies. There is Phil’s occasional partner in crime and friend, Chokey, who somehow always seems to escape being caught while Phil gets the blame.
All of these characters are quite well drawn, though some are obviously caricatures, though quite funny ones. At any rate, Perce discovers that not all of his family and friends are anxious to get rid of Chetton Hall.
Soon enough, there is a murder, and the police come in and try to sort out the people and events. They are aided by Phil, who is released early from prison and who comes home to help the police solve the murder and sort out what is really happening.
And, as I said, part of what is happening is a fine social satire. For as the lower-class Spenders are sniping at each other, with improprieties and illegalities and violence, the author throughout the book notes that the aristocratic branch of the Spender family was equally improper, illegal and violent over the centuries. As Phil observes to his lawyer,
Don’t tell me we’re any different from them, mate, because I won’t take it. We do the same sort of things. We just do them in a different accent, that’s all.
Corpse in a Gilded Cage is a fast, funny, mystery, very much in the classic style, and worth digging out.
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I'm not positive that Corpse in a Gilded Cage is still in print, though I believe that an excellent edition from Felony & Mayhem Press is still available at the link. If not, Amazon lists a fair number of inexpensive reprints along with a Kindle version. Either way, it's a book worth having and reading.
You can listen to the complete original podcast review by clicking here.
Next week: The Moving Toyshop, by Edmund Crispin.
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