Was It Murder? (1931) by James Hilton. Writing under the name Glen Trevor, Hilton penned this, his only mystery, just a few short years before his masterworks Goodbye My. Chips and Lost Horizon. Although a mystery, you can feel the author’s growing abilities to depict character and setting, especially while evoking the lead character’s feelings upon returning to his alma mater, Oakington School, where he spent many formative years before progressing to Oxford and his real life, such as it is.
Colin Revell is something of a slacker, to use the modern term. Oh, he wrote the expected book after graduation and pays his bills on time, but other then pen a few lines for literary magazines and visiting with friends, he has not much to show for his time. There was that neat little mystery, something about a missing manuscript that he managed to settle without too much embarrassment to anyone involved, but that was a while ago. And he is writing an epic poem about Don Juan so he’s got that going for him.
But it was the quiet solving of the manuscript problem which has the Headmaster of Oakington inviting him for a long weekend. Seems one of the boys managed to get himself killed while sleeping. A large gas fitting, for the lighting of the dorm rooms (this is set in 1927) fell onto his head, killing him instantly. The question of course is, was it murder?
A few days at his old school provides no evidence of foul play so it is back to London for Colin. A few months pass when he reads of another death at his school. Odd coincidence perhaps, but the newly dead boy is the brother of the first dead boy. Colin heeds the call to action for his old school.
Something is rotten at Oakington and soon even Scotland Yard is on the case. But again clues are scarce and those that arise merely point nowhere. Scotland Yard retires from the case but Colin stays on. There is the matter of the fetching young wife of the prime suspect who is a master at the school. She and Colin share several interludes, and he has a growing attachment to her.
A third death arouses more consternation, but it isn’t until there is an attempt on Colin’s life that things get really moving.
The story is okay, not a deep mystery at all with, from what I have seen on the internet, the majority of readers claiming to have solved the riddle of who the killer might be. The trouble with this story is that Colin needs a Watson, someone to talk over part of what he is thinking. Having the lead character ponder the clues and talking to himself leaves the wary reader with the knowledge that Colin will not, in all likelihood, tell us who the killer is while naming everyone else. By avoiding naming people as suspects the writer invites his readers to pinpoint the killer.
A shame really as this could have been a first-rate mystery. There were certainly enough false leads strewn about the place, and a surprising number of deaths that were not murder. Still, not a great book. But rest easy, Mr. Hilton would soon return to the ‘Old School” motif with a much better tale.