Fog of Doubt

Inspector Cockrill #5

by Christianna Brand

When Inspector Cockrill begins to investigate the murder of Raoul Vernet, he finds that many people wanted Vernet dead

Genres: Mystery, Audiobook, Crime, British Literature, Classics, Fiction, Mystery Thriller

272 pages, Mass Market Paperback

First published January 1, 1952

About the author

Christianna Brand (December 17, 1907 - March 11, 1988) was a crime writer and children's author. Brand also wrote under the pseudonyms Mary Ann Ashe, Annabel Jones, Mary Roland, and China Thomson.

She was born Mary Christianna Milne in 1907 in Malaya and spent her early years in India. She had a number of different occupations, including model, dancer, shop assistant and governess.

Her first novel, Death in High Heels, was written while Brand was working as a salesgirl. In 1941, one of her best-loved characters, Inspector Cockrill of the Kent County Police, made his debut in the book Heads You Lose. The character would go on to appear in seven of her novels. Green for Danger is Brand’s most famous novel. The whodunit, set in a World War 2 hospital, was adapted for film by Eagle-Lion Films in 1946, starring Alastair Sim as the Inspector. She dropped the series in the late 1950s and concentrated on various genres as well as short stories. She was nominated three times for Edgar Awards: for the short stories "Poison in the Cup" (EQMM, Feb. 1969) and "Twist for Twist" (EQMM, May 1967) and for a nonfiction work about a Scottish murder case, Heaven Knows Who (1960). She is the author of the children's series Nurse Matilda, which Emma Thompson adapted to film as Nanny McPhee (2005).

Her Inspector Cockrill short stories and a previously unpublished Cockrill stage play were collected as The Spotted Cat and Other Mysteries from inspector Cockrill's Casebook, edited by Tony Medawar (2002).

Series:
* Nurse Matilda
* Inspector Charlesworth
* Inspector Chucky
* Inspector Cockrill

Reviews

[Susan · Rating 4 out of 5]

First published in 1952, this is the fifth mystery featuring Inspector Cockrill. It also involves Inspector Charlesworth, who first appeared in "Death in High Heels" (1941) and who teamed up with Cockrill in his previous book, "Death of Jezebel." One of the oddities about the Inspector Cockrill novels is that he always seems to know the people he is investigating personally in some way, and that is also the case here. When a Belgian man, Raoul Vernet, arrives for dinner at the house of Matilda Evans, wife of Dr Thomas Evans, he ends up getting his head bashed in. Nobody seems particularly upset about his demise and, indeed, Charlesworth hardly seems to find the death worth investigating - the victim being both a seducer and a foreigner.

Nevertheless, the family are implicated: both Dr Evans, his business partner and friend, Tedward, his wife Matilda, his grandmother, his sister Rosie, her young friend, the earnest Damian Jones, and young Melissa who lives in the basement flat, are all possible suspects. It was a night when the city suffered a 'London Particular' - a heavy fog which meant it was hard to even see a hand in front of a face. Who, of the family and their immediate circle, could have wanted Raoul Vernet dead?

Christianna Brand admits this was her favourite novel and, indeed, she seems to have had much fun writing it. She set the crime in her own house and admits that she based characters on people she knew well. There are all sorts of allegations, counter allegations, courtroom scenes, jealousy, passion and plot twists before the truth is found out. It is susprising that much of the writing seems so modern considering when it was written. We learn at the beginning of the book that Rose has returned from finishing school pregnant by an unknown man; a fact about which she is utterly unrepentent and simply considers a problem to be solved. Although the scene - London in the fifties, in a heavy fog, is very evocative of the time and place, the motivations for murder remain timeless. I am a great fan of Christianna Brand and, although it is a shame that she not one of the better remembered Golden Age authors, she is easily comparable to the best of them.

[Elizabeth (Alaska) · Rating 4 out of 5]

In her introduction, Christianna Brand says this is her favorite of her novels. I must agree. There is a maturity here that I don't recall from the earlier installments of the series. The first several chapters establish the characters and their relationships. Drs. Thomas and Tedward are partners. Thomas is married to Matilda and they have a child Emma. Thomas' grandmother, the elder Mrs. Evans, lives with them. Rosie Evans is Thomas' much younger sister, while it is commonly known to the family that Tedward is madly in love with her. Damien Jones who believes himself a Communist is Thomas' cousin. Lastly, Melissa Weeks is the "girl" in Thomas' household and lives in an apartment in the basement.

When the murder is discovered, Rosie calls up the family friend Inspector Cockrill. He is reluctant to be involved until he learns that Inspector Charlesworth, who we met in Death of Jezebel, is the lead investigator. I didn't see as much competitiveness between these two men as in Jezebel, but it was there. Charlesworth thinks he has it right, but is watchful, wary. He is aware that Cockrill isn't quite convinced.

While not a country house mystery in the truest sense, the above are those who could possibly have murdered Belgian Raoul Vernet, who has come to visit Matilda and to "talk to her". And so, the story comes down to who has both opportunity and motive. Isn't that always the way? We know what these people have told the police. We also believe they are covering up for someone - and not all the same "someones" although we don't really know who (nor the truth, of course). There are several court scenes. I found this effective in revealing that truth and different than most Golden Age fiction.

Again, this is my favorite of the series so far. I'm happy to give it 4-stars - the pretty much top of my ratings for this genre.

[Ivonne Rovira · Rating 5 out of 5]

I have thoroughly enjoyed the first four of Christianna Brand’s novels in a series that features small, curmudgeonly Inspector Cockrill; however, this fifth entry surpasses them all, even Green for Danger, Brand’s most famous novel by far. If I could give No. 5 more than five stars, I would.

Not only do we get Cockrill again — always a delight — but we once again see Cockrill’s frenemy, Scotland Yard Inspector Charlesworth, who Cockrill thoroughly embarrassed in No. 4, Death of Jezebel. Charlesworth still underestimates Cockrill, which the Scotland Yard man will regret.

On a visit to a former flame, Belgian Raoul Vernet ends up dead with his head bashed in. Who killed him? Almost certainly the murderer is someone in the Evans’ family or inner circle. But whom? One after another confesses, trying to protect each other, muddling the case for Scotland Yard. But not for Cockrill.

And, as always, the ending comes as a complete shock. Highly recommended.

[Leah · Rating 5 out of 5]

Friends of the family…

It was a dark and foggy night when young Rosie Evans answered a phonecall at the house of Tedward, an old friend of her family and a loyal suitor to herself. The call was from a man, saying he had been attacked and needed urgent assistance, and the strangest thing about the call was that it came from Rosie’s own house. She and Tedward set out in his car, but London is blanketed in one of its most impenetrable peasoupers, and they miss their way. By the time they get to Rosie’s house, the man is dead…

The police soon develop suspicions that the murder was done by Rosie’s brother, Dr Thomas Evans. So Rosie gets in touch with another friend of the family, Inspector Cockrill, Cockie to his friends, and begs him to come to London and help them prove Thomas’ innocence. Cockie agrees, finding it impossible himself to see Thomas as a murderer. But then, all of the family are under suspicion and it appears that one of them must have done the deed, however unlikely that seems to those who know them. And each of them seems to be trying to mislead the police in one way or another. Cockrill has to conclude that one or more of them know who the murderer is and are determined to protect him or her.

Brand was clearly having fun with this one – it’s packed full of twists and misdirections and convoluted methods and motives, and I cheerfully suspected everyone at least once. Apparently it was her own favourite book. The family and Tedward are enjoyable as characters even if none of them are particularly likeable as people. Thomas is a busy general practitioner, in partnership with his old friend, Dr Edwards, known universally as Tedward. Thomas and his wife Matilda have looked after Rosie since she was a child, after she was left an orphan. Thomas worships her uncritically, as does Tedward, who, now that she’s more or less grown up, has developed a hopeless, unrequited love for her. Matilda, Thomas’ wife, is rather more clear-sighted about Rosie’s general amorality and narcissism, though she loves her too. Thomas’ and Rosie’s grandmother lives upstairs, while down in the basement lives Melissa, the daughter of an old friend of the family, who can’t help resenting the fact that men and boys so obviously always prefer Rosie to her. Lastly there’s Emma, Matilda’s “adorable” two-year-old child. And off-stage is another admirer of Rosie’s, Damien, one of those idealistic young comedy Communists who pop up often in the Golden Age of mysteries. It is clear that one of these people must be the murderer, although both the police and Cockie are inclined to clear Emma from their list of suspects.

The focus is much more on clearing the innocent than finding the guilty, which is a bit unfortunate for the poor murder victim whom no one seems to care about much at all. He was Raoul Vernet, a Belgian who was – you’ve guessed it – yet another old friend of the family, or at least of Matilda, Thomas’ wife. He had been an old flame of hers, and she had asked him to keep an eye on Rosie while she was abroad at finishing school, from which she has just returned. Raoul had asked to come to talk to Matilda about something that was worrying him, and she assumed that something must be about Rosie. For it seems that Rosie didn’t behave quite as a respectable young girl should – she likes men and they like her, and that was so much more fun than school. Now Rosie has returned home, pregnant and determined to find a way to have an abortion, which was illegal at the time.

There is a strange mix of darkness and humour in this one, but it works. The pregnancy and abortion storyline is treated quite lightly on the whole, surprisingly so for the time. However, avoiding spoilers, there’s an event about halfway through that makes the whole story take a much darker turn, and it all ends up in a court case which is full of tension, though still with elements of humour. We don’t spend much time with either Cockie or his London colleague, Inspector Charlesworth, who seems to be a recurring character in the series. That works well for me, since I find Cockie too cocky to be truly enjoyable as a ‘tec. Instead the focus is very much on the family and friends, and their interactions. Cockie does get to the solution in the end, but not by any great feat of detection – more a process of elimination. Brand often focuses too much on how crimes were done rather than why for my taste, but in this one she gets the balance right. And she uses the fog very well, both as a way of creating atmosphere and as an intrinsic part of the plot.

Overall, I enjoyed this one a lot. Next to Green for Danger, it’s my favourite Brand to date and, after a couple of disappointing ones, has restored her to my list to explore further.

[Janelle · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5* rounded up to 4*

[Bruce · Rating 2 out of 5]

Weak, unfocused detection -- not on the part of Inspector Cockrill, but in its dramatization by the author. Inspector Cockrill is an inspired creation, surely based on some intriguing person Ms. Brand knew. But he's given no proper denouement! I know these can be verbose and tedious, but some dramatic explanation of key factors the characters and reader have missed is needed.

In this case, the key factor is that Tedward's motive for killing Raoul Vernet is finding out that Rosie, for whom he evinces unconditional love and devotion, is really a wanton slut. And then he kills her too by having her procure multiple prescriptions of a drug. All this comes out, but in desultory, piecemeal fashion. After wading through the vagaries of Ms. Brand's exposition -- sometimes amusing and interesting, but often perplexing and overlong -- we need a sharp, no-nonsense mind to penetrate the "fog of doubt" and put into sharp focus what's what. Isn't that the much touted virtue of detective stories -- to bring rational order to the muddled world of seemingly contradictory facts? Cocky could have done that for us, but Ms. Brand didn't allow it.

[Gina House · Rating 4 out of 5]

So far, this is my favorite Christianna Brand mystery...and the setting is wonderfully atmospheric! After reading primarily Agatha Christie books for my entire life, it's been hard for me to love the work of other authors in this genre. But, I'm trying to branch out and the British Library Crime Classics are definitely the way to go.

The more titles I read by this author, the more I am confused about whether she is an author for me or not. After finishing Green for Danger, I was disappointed after all the hype (though, it was good) and I was about to give up. But, now that I've read this London-based mystery, I'm leaning more towards "yes", rather than "no".

What I loved:
❊ Mysterious London fog setting
❊ Interesting characters (especially Rosie)
❊ Lots of domestic details and everyday routines (mostly involving Matilda, Rosie's sister-in-law)
❊ Discovering the often questionable pasts of the main characters (Rosie, Matilda, Tedward, Thomas, Raoul, and Melissa)
❊ Excellent and witty conversations

Two things that bother me about Christianna Brand's novels:
❊ Although Inspector Cockrill is supposed to be an unforgettable character like Hercule Poirot or Sherlock Holmes, he is the opposite to me. No matter how many times he is described in each mystery, I can never remember him or why he is important.
❊ The fact that every single plot is the same (at least in this series)—there are at least 5 people (who are usually distant friends of Inspector Cockrill) that are related to each other in some close way who all have solid motives and opportunities to commit the crime. One by one, each person is strongly suspected and everyone thinks it's him/her. At this point, I feel exhausted in my mind. Finally, the murderer is REALLY discovered and it's someone who has already been suspected and then dismissed for some reason. Why can't there be some other pattern? Instead of feeling like a cozy mystery, it becomes monotonous and a bit irritating.

So, I'm now trying another Christianna Brand 'Inspector Cockrill' book from the British Library Crime Classic collection...just in case. Since I own them all, I might as well read them all and, hopefully (one day), make up my mind!

Many thanks to the British Library for sending me London Particular to read and review! I'm very grateful!

[Susan · Rating 4 out of 5]

The author's introduction (in the edition I read) claims that even if you deduce the criminal, you won't really understand the book until the last sentence. And I still remember the shock I felt years ago, on first reading. Lovely Rosie lives with her doctor brother, his wife Matilda, their toddler, her grandmother, and a girl to help with the housework, in a shabby but comfortable old house in Maida Vale. Her brother's medical partner is a constant presence, too, as is a young man who's fruitlessly courting Rosie. The night of a London pea-souper fog, an expected dinner guest shows up late, and is murdered before he can have the discussion he wants to with his old friend Matilda. The funny but suspenseful trial scene that ends the book features more confessions and accusations than is quite plausible. Imagine an intrusive author with the plotting skills of Christie and a sense of humor!

[Alberto Avanzi · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Può darsi che succeda nei libri, ma nella realtà no, ve lo assicuro. La gente non protegge un assassino con il rischio di essere impiccata al suo posto, credetemi!”
Io sono nato a Milano, ma da una famiglia originaria delle rive del Po (tre quarti piacentina, un quarto cremonese, la nonna paterna) e da bambino ho frequentato molto quei posti. Facendo così, mi sono reso conto che la nebbia di Milano non è assolutamente nulla paragonata a quella che ho incontrato nella Bassa. Leggendo questo romanzo, mi sono tornate alla mente le scene di vita vissuta negli autunni e inverni padani. La nebbia, che domina e impregna la storia, che ti fa sentire addosso, mentre leggi, il freddo e l’umido e che ti ricorda quella sensazione in cui ti sembra di avere il viso avvolto in un fazzoletto come se stessi giocando a moscacieca, e l’espressione “non vedere a un palmo dal proprio naso” non è un modo di dire, e anzi sembra addirittura esageratamente ottimistica.
Avevo già letto un paio di romanzi con Cockrill come protagonista, e mi erano piaciuti tantissimo, quindi, nella solita alternanza di autori, è venuto il momento di tornare alla Brand.

Ciò che ho amato nei due romanzi precedenti è presente anche qui. Mi verrebbe da dire, soprattutto qui. L’atmosfera e il modo in cui vengono descritte le loro relazioni, anche amorose, soprattutto amorose (ma descritte, come il suo solito, in modo ironico e malizioso) è un grandissimo valore aggiunto per il romanzo. Cockrill, arguto come sempre ma un po’ defilato, attento a non togliere la scena ai veri protagonisti, è un altro punto di forza per chi come me non ama eccessivamente il detective troppo carismatico. Anche il modo di narrare, che (come piace a me) parte dal momento di massima tensione per poi raccontare in flashback cosa successe prima, è straordinariamente efficace.
E poi c’è la nebbia, che pervade la storia, un po’ come la guerra che aumentava la tensione di Delitto in bianco. E che entra nella testa del lettore, frastornato dal gioco dei moventi e dei sospetti, gestito come sempre in modo mirabile. Alla fine, mi ha lasciato la sensazione di aver letto uno dei più bei gialli che siano mai stati scritti.
Le classifiche sono sempre antipatiche e difficili da fare, però l’unico paragone che mi viene in mente è con un’altra scrittrice anche lei britannica, il cui cognome è quasi uguale al nome della Brand. Nomen omen, dicevano gli antichi. Io sulla Brand ho un solo dubbio: perché quest’autrice è così misconosciuta in Italia? Perché invece di ripubblicare Blake, pur valido, a nessuno viene in mente di ripubblicare questi romanzi? (lodevole il fatto che Polillo ne abbia inseriti un paio nei Bassotti, a ogni modo)
Sulla storia non vi dico nulla, godetevela come me la sono goduta io, è il modo migliore di leggere. Vi consiglio quindi di fermarvi qui nella lettura della recensione e di correre a cercare il libro.
Se invece volete proprio sapere qualcosa della trama, vi fornisco qualche indicazione. Rosie è la giovane, bella, simpatica e discretamente ricca sorella di un medico, Thomas. Ama divertirsi con gli uomini e gli uomini amano farlo con lei, e ama anche passare da un uomo all’altro, ma ora si trova in una situazione difficile: è incinta e vorrebbe abortire. Cerca di convincere uno dei suoi ammiratori, Ted, medico come il fratello, ad aiutarla. Mentre si trova a casa di Ted, riceve una strana telefonata dalla casa dove vive con Thomas e la moglie di lui: all’altro capo del telefono c’è un uomo in fin di vita che chiede aiuto… Naturalmente insieme a Ted raggiungeranno casa ma troppo tardi per soccorrere la vittima (e prima di Thomas, impegnato in una visita a domicilio, di un paziente del quale a causa della nebbia non ha trovato l’indirizzo). Un bel closed circle mistery, con la nebbia a realizzare quell’isolamento che, come altre volte nei gialli, è essenziale per restringere il cerchio dei sospetti e innalzare la tensione.

[Phil Butcher · Rating 3 out of 5]

Atmospheric mystery from the early 1950s set in the thick London fog. Brand cleverly leads you to suspect each character in turn before the final twist.

[Gabriele Crescenzi · Rating 5 out of 5]

Christianna Brand è un'autrice di gialli molto famosa, grande costruttrice di trame complesse, convulse, conturbanti, intrise spesso di un alone di angoscia e di tensione.
Dopo aver apprezzato i suoi ottimi "Delitto in bianco" e "Morte di una strega", nonché il suo onirico racconto "La calda nebbia bianca", mi sono cimentato nella lettura di un altro suo romanzo, "Quel giorno, nella nebbia".

"Quel giorno, nella nebbia" (1952) è un romanzo affascinante, conturbante e viscerale, che ha come protagonista il burbero ispettore Cockrill, qui in veste non ufficiale, il quale aiuta nelle indagini lo stolido ispettore Charlesworth (che appare anche in "Death of Jezebel"). Sono stato tremendamente colpito da questa sua opera, per la sua particolare atmosfera, le scelte narrative efficaci e un finale assolutamente sbalorditivo e amaro.

La trama ruota attorno alla famiglia Evans, composta da Thomas, professionale e inflessibile medico, da sua moglie, la spumeggiante Mathilda, Emma, la piccola figlia di 2 anni, e la signora Evans, nonna del primo che ha la mania di lanciare gli oggetti fuori dalla finestra e che vive in un universo tutto suo, elaborato a partire da film famosi che ha visto in passato. Una famiglia inglese abbastanza eccentrica ma normale. Le vicende prendono una piega più frizzante al ritorno da Ginevra, dove era stata mandata per la propria formazione culturale, di Rosie, sorella appena maggiorenne di Thomas. Rosie è sempre stata una ragazza viziata, libertina e civettuola, perciò non stupisce che con il suo arrivo porti anche una notizia inaspettata: è incinta ma non sa di quale dei suoi numerosi amanti avuti durante quello che doveva essere un regolare soggiorno-studio sul continente. La ragazza vuole abortire e chiede consiglio a Mathilda, implorandola di non dire nulla al marito, in quanto si sarebbe profondamente addolorato, essendole molto legato. Nonostante i rimproveri della donna, la ragazza non vuol sentir ragioni e si confida con tutti i suoi conoscenti, anche con il dr. Ted Edwards, collega del padre, il quale da sempre ha una cotta per lei. Anche lui rifiuta di darle una mano, non prescrivendole la famosa pillola che può eliminare il problema alla radice. Ma Ted, sapendo che la ragazza non si sarebbe fermata di fronte a nulla e timoroso che potesse raggiungere il suo obiettivo in modi pericolosi, le prescrive comunque un farmaco innocuo facendole credere che funzioni. A parte questa spiacevole vicenda, la vita trascorre in modo tranquillo a Maida Vale, la residenza degli Evans.
Un pomeriggio, però, squilla il telefono e Mathilda va a rispondere: si tratta di Raoul Vernet, sua vecchia fiamma belga a cui aveva affidato il compito di tenere a bada Rosie durante il suo soggiorno a Ginevra. Lui le dice che le vuole parlare di una questione importante quella sera stessa, trovandosi a Londra per questioni d'affari. Mathilda, come tutte le buone padrone di casa, nonostante abbia mille faccende da svolgere, lo invita a cena per quella sera stessa, complicandosi la vita in quanto la sua unica domestica-cuoca, Melissa, ha il giorno libero. Perciò deve preparare tutto lei per accogliere l'ospite. Dovendo Raoul dirle qualcosa di prettamente confidenziale, sicuramente relativo alla condotta della scapestrata fanciulla, Mathilda si fa promettere al marito che non si sarebbe fatto trovare a cena. Nonna Evans non scendeva mai dopo pranzo dalla sua camera ed Emma poteva dormire nella sua stanza, così non ci sarebbero stati intoppi. Rosie inoltre non vuole assolutamente vedere Raoul e quella stessa sera dice di dover uscire e se ne va. Nel frattempo una nebbia fitta avvolge con il suo bianco manto l'intera contrada, tanto che Raoul arriva in ritardo. Viene fatto accomodare e Thomas, nascosto in cucina, sgattaiola via per una visita medica richiesta con urgenza.
Tutto sembra tranquillo, ma dietro la foschia londinese si cela l'ombra di un assassino.
Siamo intanto a casa Edwards, nello stesso istante, dove alle 21 arriva Rosie che aveva appuntamento con il dottore. È in ritardo di un'ora e incolpa di ciò quella nebbia che bloccava irrimediabilmente la vista. Ted, vedendo che è tardi, decide di riaccompagnarla a casa e così esce per avviare il motore della sua macchina. È proprio in quel momento che una telefonata arriva nello studio e Rosie, in assenza di Ted, risponde in sua vece: le giunge alle orecchie il rantolo di un uomo che afferma di essere stato colpito al capo da un martello chirurgico e invoca aiuto. La ragazza gli chiede l'indirizzo e, sorprendentemente, l'uomo le dà quello di casa Evans, cioè casa sua. Poi segue un tonfo e un silenzio assoluto. Rosie è stupita e comprende che quella voce dall'inglese stentato può appartenere ad una sola persona: Raoul Vernet. Chiama dunque Ted e insieme si avviano a casa della ragazza, ma la nebbia rende il compito particolarmente arduo e devono più volte fermarsi per ritrovare la via giusta. È qui che il romanzo prende davvero le mosse nel capitolo 1, ricostruendo gli eventi precedenti nei capitoli seguenti per ricongiungersi poi al presente dell'omicidio.
Dopo circa 20 minuti giungono a destinazione e i due, aprendo il portone d'ingresso, scoprono la figura di Vernet, immersa in una pozza di sangue davanti all'apparecchio telefonico. Nello stesso istante, Mathilda scende le scale, ignara di ciò che era avvenuto. È chiaro che si tratta di omicidio. Viene chiamata la polizia, che subito intuisce si tratti di un delitto interno e non uno compiuto da un estraneo: lo si comprende dall'arma, il martello chirurgico, riposto in un armadio che solo una persona che frequentava la casa poteva aver trovato e utilizzato per i suoi loschi scopi. Ma chi?
Il fiore ormai avvizzito che è Mathilda, gelosa della sua ex fiamma? Thomas, forse convinto che fosse lui l'uomo che aveva messo incinta sua sorella? Rosie stessa, che tanta fretta aveva di non farsi vedere dalla vittima? O Ted, per vendicare il torto fatto alla ragazza? O qualcun'altro ancora?
La famiglia non si dà pace e chiama in aiuto l'amico Cockrill per scoprire la verità dietro questo caso intricato, in cui ognuno sembra nascondere qualcosa. Ma non sarà facile e prima che sarà diradata questa nebbia di sospetti e ipotesi, l'assassino tornerà a colpire ancora. E la foschia continuerà a nascondere il suo volto.

"Quel giorno, nella nebbia" è forse uno dei romanzi della Brand più spettacolari che abbia letto. La struttura complessa e agosciante della narrazione, la ridda di sospetti e i loro segreti che s'intrecciano in un groviglio tormentato di menzogne e verità, la presenza percepibile di un assassino che si cela dietro un alone di compassione e amorevolezza, i numerosi e contrastanti indizi: tutto contribuisce a fare di quest'opera un capolavoro della narrativa gialla.
Christianna Brand è una grande costruttrice di trame e qui dimostra come sappia gestire alla perfezione una serie intricata e contorta di dinamiche, facendo uso di tecniche narrative efficaci e tese a rendere il clima narrativo costantemente teso e soffocante.
La struttura, alla pari della trama e delle indagini investigative, è estremamente convoluta, una sorta di labirinto in cui molteplici strade si incrociano spesso vicendevolmente e in cui sembra impossibile trovare una via d'uscita.
La vicenda prende l'avvio "in medias res", quando Ted e Rosie si stanno recando a casa Evans per scoprire cosa stesse succedendo dopo la misteriosa telefonata; poi la narrazione fa un salto all'indietro di circa una settimana, in cui la Brand comincia ad introdurre gradualmente i vari personaggi e spiegando il motivo del ritorno di Rosie e il suo problema; da lì la vicenda prosegue sino a ricongiungersi al momento narrato nel capitolo iniziale, per poi procedere in ordine cronologico (tranne alcune prolessi che spezzano il ritmo narrativo, rendendolo nervoso) fino all'onirico finale.
Una struttura del genere, piena di curve, di rimandi interni, di continue connessioni tra passato e presente, quasi a voler sottintendere una radice profonda dietro i fatti del momento, mi ha fatto ricordare in parte la costruzione convulsa de "La rossa mano destra" di Rogers. Anche lì, la collocazione sfasata degli eventi era funzionale a costruire un senso di attesa e di ansia crescenti, prima introducendo fatti misteriosi, poi esplorando episodi passati per far comprendere il perché degli avvenimenti presenti. La Brand è particolarmente abile in tale campo, costruendo scene dalla forte visualità, quasi oniriche e disgregandole, spezzando l'ordine narrativo cronologico, per renderle ancor più vaghe e inquietanti.
Ciò che contraddistingue lo stile della Brand e rende indimenticabili alcuni suoi passaggi narrativi è l'uso particolare delle righe finali di ogni capitolo: la scrittrice conclude spesso i vari settori in un crescendo emotivo, con frasi breve e argute che cominciano ad instillare dubbi nella mente del lettore sulla possibile colpevolezza di un sospetto. Questo processo non avviene una volta sola, ma quasi in ogni capitolo, generando una sensazione di confusione e di diffuso sospetto che fa piombare chi legge in un incubo perverso in cui ogni personaggio sembra artefice del delitto, in cui dietro gli occhi apparentemente candidi di ogni persona brilla la scintilla perversa dell'assassino. La Brand anticipa i pensieri del lettore ma, a differenza di altri autori, non cerca di distogliere i suoi occhi da quella pista utilizzando la misdirection, ma vi gioca sopra, stuzzica la sua percezione, lo convince delle sue tesi per poi smontarle, per poi ancora riportarle in campo come plausibili. Tutto questo genera una girandola infinita di ipotesi, congetture, che sviano dalla verità meglio di qualsiasi falsa pista
La Brand ama sovvertire ad ogni capitolo le convinzioni che si avevano, le rigira continuamente, le manipola a suo piacimento, creando un senso di forte suspence, funzionale allo scioglimento catartico nel finale, dove il climax raggiunge l'apice distensivo.
La struttura è dunque come un percorso ad ostacoli, in cui ad ogni fine capitolo vi è una nuova barriera, superata la quale si presenta un ulteriore problema e così via. Il tutto poi si attua sul piano del vago, dell'evanescente, come evocato dalla stessa atmosfera nebbiosa. L'autrice termina i capitoli dando spunti, non costruendo mai certezze. Tra dubbi, ipotesi varie, nuove piste che si svelano e altre che si frantumano, è facile perdere di vista l'obiettivo centrale.

Se dunque la struttura rivela la maestria di una scrittrice navigata che sa veicolare emozioni anche tramite la "forma", il giallo di per sé non è da meno: la verità giunge inaspettata, per quanto ci si è arzigogolato sopra. La meccanica del delitto è geniale, il movente struggente e fortemente realistico, crudo. Alla fine della lettura non si può non sentire un retrogusto amaro, dato da un disvelamento non disteso, ma tormentato, che mostra come l'omicidio sia spesso il risultato di emozioni incontrollate, del dominio non perfetto della propria persona. È quella nebbia del titolo che offusca la mente del colpevole e lo induce ad uccidere, non facendogli vedere la realtà in modo oggettivo ma distorto. "Quel giorno, nella nebbia" è un grande romanzo anche perché è impostato come una vera e propria tragedia: i delitti non sono che una conseguenza imprevedibile dell'amarezza dell'esistenza, di una vita che spesso sfugge, di illusioni che si continuano a coltivare per vere e, che una volta infrante, non si riescono a ricomporre e s'impone al loro posto una realtà che non si accetta.
Mostra dunque in maniera cruenta come l'animo umano può degenerare per le sue stesse debolezze, per la propria ottusità.
E lo fa in modo magistrale, onirico, crudo, facendo capire di colpo tutta la verità, facendo andare ogni ingranaggio del meccanismo al suo posto nelle ultimissime e straordinarie righe finali.
Un capolavoro di tensione, di emozioni violente e di angoscia, scritto da una delle autrici più rappresentative del giallo classico.

[Francis · Rating 4 out of 5]

You ever stay up and watch one of those 1940's black and white mystery movies. You know with at least one classy but provocative young dame and a couple leading male types with curly hair and three piece suits, one of whom smokes a pipe and everybody talks jingo and jive with an English accent? Oh, and did I fail to mention they wear hats, even indoors.

You know, where somebody is then suddenly found dead and we find out all these nice people had some kind of reason to do that person in? And, the plot just kinds of twist and turns and you find out everybody has been holding back some kind of secret and the plot continues to thicken but still the girl is kinda cute and everybody has a lot of witty things to say, except the older woman, who just plain talks too much and all this despite somebody being dead and all? And then suddenly, somebody else dies?

You know, it starts campy but then you get sucked in and then before you know it, you have to go to bed, but you end up smiling, thinkin' to yourself, that was some entertainment.

Yeah, it's kinda like that, one of them old movies you used to love.

[James Scott · Rating 5 out of 5]

The title of this book in England was London Particular, but it is now known everywhere as Fog of Doubt. It is the best murder mystery I've ever read. What it does, it does so smoothly, so elegantly. The story effortlessly wraps around itself and presents its reader with the solution quite a few times, but somehow keeps it tantalizingly out of reach. The complete solution is given only in the final paragraphs. It's such a joy to read a masterful example of the genre in which I write. It's definitely worth your time.

[Puzzle Doctor · Rating 2 out of 5]

Disappointing, given the book's reputation for fair play. More like a game of pass the parcel. Full review at classicmystery.blog

[Chris · Rating 5 out of 5]

‘In the long, white, firelit drawing-room, the victim bowed and smiled and reeled off his devoirs before the serious work of the evening should begin; within the radius of one fog-bound mile were these seven people, one of whom was very shortly going to murder him.’
— Chapter Four.

In the decades before the first Clean Air Act of 1956 proved pivotal, London’s notorious smogs – a combination of fogs due to the capital’s low lying situation and polluting smoke from household fires and industry – were inconvenient, unpleasant and, especially during the Great Smog of December 1952, very deadly.

Christianna Brand’s crime fiction, set in London’s Maida Vale late one November in the early 1950s, plays on one such smog providing the kind of obscurity that made murder possible, and further allowed suspects the occasion to obfuscate for what they saw as valid reasons.

But who would want to murder a middle-aged visitor from Geneva and, as a layman, how was the stranger able to gasp out in his dying breaths that he had been hit with ‘a mastoid mallet’? It will take a retired police inspector all his experience to approach the truth while severely testing his loyalty to old family friends.

London Particular opens with a pair from the London Welsh community, Rosie Evans and Dr Edwin (‘Tedward’) Edwards, edging slowly through a peasouper in his car towards Rosie’s brother’s house, from which a mysterious telephone call from the murder victim has apparently been made. When they eventually get there, around 9.30 in the evening, Raoul Vernet is indeed found dead; and then the whole household becomes somehow implicated as retired Inspector Cockrill and his former junior Inspector Charlesworth try to penetrate the figurative murk that soon descends around the committing of the crime.

Who are the seven people in the frame? Surely not the seemingly ditzy Rosie who took the call, or Tedward who drove her to the house from his surgery? And what about Rosie’s brother Dr Thomas Evans, who seems to have a reason for killing Monsieur Vernet? Should we rule out Thomas’s wife Matilda who was putting the baby to bed at the time, or dotty old Mrs Evans from upstairs who is arthritic, or Melissa from the basement flat who says she was out in the fog with her boyfriend Stanislas at the time? And where does Rosie’s revolutionary boyfriend Damien figure in the case?

This is such a clever, convincing and even at times humorous murder mystery penned by Brand. We’re presented with lots of opportunities to deduce possible motivations, opportunities and means by which each individual could have ‘done it’, with suspicion transferred from one to another of the seven and back again. And yet, after all the investigations and trial scenes, the scenario is patently obvious right from the start in Chapter One – if only we were only able to interpret it right.

Unlike some Golden Age crime fiction I’ve read, here I got quite invested in the characters, all of whom came over as distinctive and occasionally idiosyncratic. Brand describes them with humour and some fondness but nevertheless remains critical. It turns out that all indeed have different, personal reasons for dissembling, but eventually truth will out. Above all, I found it easy to suspend disbelief, whether in the patient sleuthing, the interviews or the trial scenes, first in the magistrates court and then at the Old Bailey, where tragedy and comedy seamlessly segue and alternate.

In her introduction to this edition fellow crime writer P D James tells us that Brand declared London Particular “her favourite among her novels” and proceeds to list the author’s virtues: “a zest and liveliness which are typical of the writer herself and characters who are observed with an affectionate but unsentimental eye.” (Curiously her generous tribute didn’t stop James misspelling Matilda as “Mathilda” and “shrewd, irascible Kentish detective” Cockrill as “Cockerel”.)

Finally, I return to the title Brand chose for the mystery which, perhaps understandably, was sometimes reissued as Fog of Doubt. ‘London particular’ was an alternative name for the capital’s poisonous yellow peasouper, but I see that ‘particular’ was also slang for ‘a mistress’, which is appropriate in considering certain actors’ motivations; also we know it was the particulate matter from coal fires that were so deadly in London’s smogs. And, as we discover there’ll be more than one deceased, of course death is very much the name of the game.

[Colin Garrow · Rating 5 out of 5]

When Belgian paramour Raoul Vernet is found with his head bashed in on the night of a particularly dense fog, suspicion naturally falls on members of the house he was visiting at the time. While no-one appears to have been in the immediate vicinity when Vernet was killed, Inspector Charlesworth is certain someone in house must be responsible. The family, however, are keen their good name should not be tarnished and call on the services of old friend Inspector Cockerill, who soon gets to work interviewing all concerned.

Originally titled 'London Particular', this is the first of Christianna Brand’s Inspector Cockerill mysteries I’ve read (though I’ve seen the film version of Green for Danger many times). Her writing style took me a little while to get used to, but by chapter five, I’d tuned in and began to enjoy it. The story seems to wander around a lot, without giving us any real clues, but then it all begins to fall into place as we learn how each of the suspects has a motive for murder. By the time it got to the court case for the prime suspect (although this isn’t necessarily the killer 😉), I was completely enthralled.

An interesting and clever book that ably demonstrates Brand’s reputation as one of the Queens’ of Crime.

[Carolyn Crocker · Rating 3 out of 5]

This 1952 murder mystery, a puzzle solved by Inspector Cockrill, is highly entertaining in style, characterization, and plot twists. The Maida Vale family at its heart comprise the seven suspects who are as foggy as the "particular" weather outside. The plot's evidentiary pratfalls, lies and motives are very funny, as the family shift and are shifted over the slain Frenchman in hall.

"A little fish of doubt swam into Cockie's consciousness and hung about there fir a moment, waggling its fins at him, but he was more interested in Thomas than in Melissa Weeks and so he passed on and never knew how much trouble and tragedy might have been saved if he had noticed it." p. 73

":...but a murderer was really a creature of accident; and every time [the Judge, Mr. Justice Rivett] picked up that infernal square of black, and, carrying it folded in his hand as a woman carries her gloves, walked through that door heralded by three knocks, in his bunched red dressing gown of a robe, with the little tie wig perched over his own white hair, it turned his stomach over, it honestly did. So much abdominal churning necessitated a battered little tin of assorted pills known as 'my Neurotic Box', whose absence from his clerk's desk, close to his own, would have rendered his lordship a murderer in his own right." p.188

[JDL · Rating 4 out of 5]

As much as I have been wanting to space out my encounters with Christianna Brand's whodunits (especially her six Inspector Cockrill books), I also wanted to get to this one this month as one of the established classics I'd read as a send-off to my mystery-reading journey of 2021. At least, I thought it was an establish classic of Brand's. Although not often included as one of her "big four" (of which the other three are always from: Green for Danger, Suddenly at His Residence, Death of Jezebel, and Tour de Force), it seemed at firs that just about everybody who read this one loved it. Many praise the excellence in Brand's already established form of very few suspects, lots of switching in suspicion, subtle but effective cluing, false solutions, and high emotion. Author James Scott Byrnside has even said that Fog of Doubt is "the most perfectly constructed whodunit" he's read. But then you start to see the less-than-shining reviews. Ones that say that the book simply does not pack the kind of punch that some of her other ones do. That the plotting is not as airtight, with the accusations and confessions and trial scenes and last-minute revelations becoming a bit too much. Even that - could it possibly be true? - that Brand doesn't play fair. Suddenly your expectations of the book waver, you become a bit worried about if it's worth it, and you hold desperately onto your wavering excitement. It was not a very fun experience, let me tell you. But I still finished this one in my usual three-day period, and I was able to keep focus well enough that I've formulated my own thoughts.

There's no doubt that Brand's classic style and her taut plotting are not wavering at this point. She had just written three Cockrills which are absolute classics, and she'd write another own afterwards. Even if some aspects of the pacing aren't as carefully crafted as they are in Green for Danger, say, they're still part of what makes this classic Brand. The first half of the novel, in my mind, couldn't be done better. The in media res opening, the expository chapters written in the way Brand always wrote them, which mightn't be new but is still enthralling, the introductions to seven very human characters, and the murder and its subsequent investigation, are all paced and written perfectly. I'll be honest, the second half does drag a little. Not that this isn't anything new - you just have to remember Green for Danger's "waiting" chapters near the end to prove that. But whereas GfD's slowness comes from not enough happening in an environment of lots of tension, Fog of Doubt suffers from too many plot points and revelations abounding in a pretty dry landscape. It seems at times that she's trying to pack everything into the second(!) murder trial, and at others that's she's biding the time a bit. And then the last two chapters happen. Although they come suddenly, they might be two of the most beautiful chapters I've ever read. Not because of flowery prose or thematic consummation, but because the mood they bring is so ethereal and the content so haunting. The final paragraph really exemplifies this. Not because it's doing a last-minute reveal (and it's clearly doing it for the reason of being a last-minute reveal,) but because it really ties the whole book together. So while it's still not perfect, the plotting is very far from being half bad.

The characters are flawless. Each one will stick out to me for most of my life. Reserved Dr. Thomas Evans, stern and motherly Matilda Evans, young and tempestuous Rosie Evans, aging and forlorn Tedward, Damien Jones the intense Communist, shyly illustrious Melissa Weeks, and especially the elderly but youthfully crazy Granny Evans. And when I say that Granny Evans joins the ranks of Major Moon, Fay Seton, Elsa Greer, and Herman Pennik as some of the best one-off GAD characters, I jest not.

And finally, is it actually fair play? I don't know if I can say that in full confidence. The clues are there. They really are; they're subtle and light as many of Brand's clues usually are, but they can be spotted. I myself spotted a couple. The main problem lies in the fact that we never get anything definitive. Although the evidence against the true murderer is there, there's also strong evidence against six (well, eventually five) other suspects, and there are damning rebuttals to each case. There's never really given any definitive proof that the murderer is the only person who could have done it, like there is in Green for Danger (and in Tour de Force, although it's not quite as strong there.) However, this was written in 1952. Although Christie and Queen and other GAD authors were still writing, they were already starting to fall out of fashion and took to writing new styles, and other crime authors and other mystery styles, usually not the classic fair-play style at that, took over. I don't blame Brand for trying something in a new style because of that. The frank discussion of abortions is another proof that we are in a new era of detective-story writing. So while I can't say it's fair play, I can say that maybe it isn't trying to be fair-play, and that for what it's trying to be it's really, REALLY good. And as a Brand it's really good. Does it compare to Green for Danger? Maybe not. But in my opinion, while it's not perfect and while the common criticisms of this book are valid, it is still very much worth reading.

[Daniel Myatt · Rating 4 out of 5]

Interesting book, atmospheric with a host of characters all with a secret or two about them.

I really enjoyed the style and modern tone of the book but I was disappointed with the court room ending (I'm just not a fan) still a good read.

[Lady Wesley · Rating 3 out of 5]

Diabolical. This plot had me guessing until the very end.

[Katherine · Rating 3 out of 5]

The writing is splendid, but the story is really ugly. And the characters' dedication to a spoiled, rude young woman was a little beyond believable.

[Sadhbh · Rating 5 out of 5]

Words don't express.

[Katie · Rating 3 out of 5]

The mystery plot was interesting, and the book was entertaining - but the character of the great-grandmother drove me crazy! She felt cartoonish. And there were a lot of run-on sentences so things got a little confusing at times. But the writer has a lot of talent and I will try some of her other works.

[Bev · Rating 4 out of 5]

London Particular (aka Fog of Doubt) was reportedly Christianna Brand's favorite among her own novels. It tells the story of Raoul Vernet and his unexpected visit to the Evans home in London. He chooses the night of a real "pea-souper" of a fog--also known as a London particular--to visit his former paramour Matilda Evans and arrange a chance to talk to her alone. The night ends most unexpectedly indeed...Raoul will be struck down by a "mastoid mallet" in the hallway of the Evans' house and Inspector Cockrill--Cockie--will have to work his way through seven suspects to find the killer. The only thing is...every step forward seems to eliminate one more suspect until there are none left.

Rosie Evans, Matilda's sister-in-law, is at the center of the mystery. Rosie has returned from finishing
school abroad unwed and pregnant. She's tells a different story of how this came about to each of her family members and friends--from Matlida, to her dotty grandmother, to Melissa Weekes (secretary/girl of all work), to her sometime boyfriend Damien to her brother's partner Dr. Edward Robert Edwards ("Tedward"). Her objective is to find someone who will help her fund a visit to an abortionist to solve her problem--and she tells the tale she feels most likely to work on the sympathies of each person. Unfortunately, for Rosie, they all think she should have the child. The only one kept completely in the dark is her brother, Dr. Evans.

When Raoul is killed, it seems that someone thought he had appeared to spill the beans about Rosie OR that he wanted to blackmail Rosie or someone else about the situation OR that someone thought he was responsible for Rosie's condition. But who is that someone? And...since everyone seems to be covering up for someone else...how in the world will Cockie and the other policemen be able to get to the bottom of it all?

This novel has some very neat plotting and memorable characters. The best of the bunch are the grandma who, to liven things up, regularly imagines herself the heroine of one of her lusty romance novels--"riding" across the desert (bedroom) and being forced leave her worldly goods behind (tossing them out the window) AND Matilda who carries on the most interesting conversations both with herself and others. It also makes for an interesting murder mystery when there is no palpable, discernible reason for the death and all of the suspects know and like one another to the point of covering up and nearly all of them being willing to confess or at least be arrested to protect someone else. It isn't uncommon for authors to use that theme with one character, but I don't believe I've read a novel where the confessions were quite so numerous. Four stars.

First posted on my blog My Reader's Block. Please request permission before reposting. Thanks.

[Gurnoor Walia · Rating 5 out of 5]

A WELCOME return to the works of Brand, which I particularly savour owing to her small output of mystery fiction. This time, Cocky is once again called to help one of his oft-beleaguered acquaintances, this time in smog-ridden London. The problem starts when a French native is found murdered at the threshold of a Maida Vale-based residence of a respectable West London doctor, while most of its inhabitants are lost in the 'London Particular' and the chatelaine is busy minding her toddler and her seemingly senile grandmother-in-law. The suspicion rests on the doctor himself, who had a strong motive in that the Frenchman was one of the leading contenders considered responsible for the teenage pregnancy of his beloved sister during her semester abroad in a girls' finishing school in Switzerland. His belief in his sister's innocence is unwavering despite ample contrary evidence supplied by his sister herself to other members of the household and family relations. The picture one gets of her is that of a nymphomaniac who, it turns out, slept with any men with a pulse in the Swiss town according to her own admissions, thus creating a secondary mystery regarding the true identity of her child's father. Adding further layers of mystery is the fact that most characters are repressing the truth for various motives, some of them spurious, some genuine.

The mystery has all the elements that make Brand's plots such fun, including numerous false solutions, on-the-surface unbreakable alibis, and a blockbuster ending that stays with you long after you have forgotten the plot. The sensibility of the work is also decidedly modern, where topics such as abortion, premarital sex, and pregnancy are handled without much judgment from the author, when on the whole the society and law were against them. Also, the story has an emotional punch to it, which, though characteristic of Brand's work, may prove difficult to convey in the hands of another author handling such an immature and eccentric cast. Lastly, special mention must also go to the romanticised depiction of the London fog, which is done in such a manner that it is not just atmosphere but becomes part of the cast, fully justifying both of the book' titles (when various GAD authors like my favourite Margery Allingham were often chided, and rightly so, for the fact that the titles of their books had seldom anything to do with the plot itself).

[Orinoco Womble (tidy bag and all) · Rating 4 out of 5]

I've read several Brands now, and I am amused at her inability to write the word "toilet" or "lavatory" or even "bathroom." No, all down the decades she was writing, her characters male as well as female always "use the huh-hah." Was it her editor? Or just a touch of the Hyancinth Buckets?

I've known several women like Rosie, who somehow bewitch everyone in their vicinity into dancing attendance on them, paying for holidays or new clothes or whatever they need or want. Jobs are found for them, there's always someone willing to let them stay in the house free gratis for nothing, or feed them meals or take them out for the day. In return, this sort of woman smiles and takes whatever's going, but never expresses gratitude or appreciation. Sometimes I think the Rosie type of woman doesn't even notice; in their world, it's just normality that they should be given all and give nothing in return. The characters are well fleshed out, from the dotty grandmama to the tiny tot, and all between. But was I the only reader who was annoyed by the assumption that because Melissa is a virgin who's never had a boyfriend, she must of necessity be a hysterical, vindictive bitch?
This was a good read for the day after I got my flu vaccine. I knew I'd feel lethargic, so a day in bed with the tea things and a good book was just my drop. It did get a bit convoluted, but the author's introduction warns us of that without giving anything away. I also liked her description of the writing process, something many authors either ignore, deny or keep to themselves.

[Jill · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book begins with a car ride in really thick fog (known at the time as a London Particular) The passengers of the car are lost, due to the visibility experienced in this fog. The reader is then taken to house of Dr. Thomas Evans, his wife Matilda, their young daughter, and the doctor's grandmother. The sister of Thomas, has not long returned from a school abroad, with the unfortunate news that she has been seduced, and is expecting a baby. Both Matilda and the sister (Rosie) decide not to tell Thomas about this for the time being, as Rosie is hoping that she will find a way of aborting the child. A past lover of Matilda, was asked to keep an eye on Rosie while she was attending the school, but contacts Matilda to talk about Roseis's behavior, inviting himself to dine at their home. After this dinner where only Matilda is present from the family, her old flame is murdered. At this point Inspector Cockrill, an old friend of the family, is called in to help discover who it was that committed the crime. As Inspector Charlesworth is the investigating officer Cockrill decides to help.
Brand has said that she considers this book to be her favourite. She has included some interesting characters, and some most irregular court room scenes, making this a compelling read.

[Sue Foster · Rating 2 out of 5]

The story was set during a peasouper fog in London.
The murder in a house.
The author makes comments sometimes which breaks the fourth wall. For example one minor character is leaving England the author then says he will not return until 2 murders later. At that point we only had one. There seems a certain disjointed way of how the story comes together a bit hard to explain but not one of authors better books.

[Elizabeth · Rating 4 out of 5]

They don't write mysteries like these anymore. Seriously plotted mystery.

[Kirsten · Rating 5 out of 5]

The mystery was truly a challenge to unravel. I never saw it coming!