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Reggie Fortune
Save a rope
- GenresMystery
186 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1948
14 people want to read
About the author
H.C. Bailey
144 books16 followersHenry Christopher Bailey (1878 – 1961) was an English author of detective fiction. Bailey wrote mainly short stories featuring a medically-qualified detective called Reggie Fortune. Fortune's mannerisms and speech put him into the same class as Lord Peter Wimsey but the stories are much darker, and often involve murderous obsession, police corruption, financial skulduggery, child abuse and miscarriages of justice. Although Mr Fortune is seen at his best in short stories, he also appears in several novels.
A second series character, Josiah Clunk, is a sanctimonious lawyer who exposes corruption and blackmail in local politics, and who manages to profit from the crimes. He appears in eleven novels published between 1930 and 1950, including The Sullen Sky Mystery (1935), widely regarded as Bailey's magnum opus.
A second series character, Josiah Clunk, is a sanctimonious lawyer who exposes corruption and blackmail in local politics, and who manages to profit from the crimes. He appears in eleven novels published between 1930 and 1950, including The Sullen Sky Mystery (1935), widely regarded as Bailey's magnum opus.
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January 22, 2020
Save A Rope or Saving A Rope whichever you prefer I guess, I see no other reason for the difference in the title, is a novel by H. C. Bailey first published in 1948. It could have been last published in 1948 for all I know, the copy I just read is falling apart. Beginning with the author, I feel kind of sorry for the guy but more on that later. Henry Christopher Bailey, who must have liked being called H. C. over a perfectly nice name of Henry, was born in London, England, Feb. 1, 1878. He lived most of his life in London. He attended the City of London School, and graduated with honors in classics from CorpusChristi College of the University of Oxford. Graduating with honors in classics might be fun, it's the only thing I can think of that could be fun in college, or any other type of school. From 1901 to 1946, he worked for London's Daily Telegraph. First as a drama critic and a war correspondent, and finally an editorial writer. Meanwhile he was writing books. Short story books, detective books, and supposedly one historical novel a year. I didn't try to count that up yet, but according to what I've read, he kept up his once a year historical from 1901 through 1928. Bailey was married and had two daughters and he did his writing in the evenings after his work on the Daily Telegraph. In addition to his writing, he also enjoyed gardening. He was a founding member of The Detection Club. When I read that "Detection Club" it triggered something in my memory, something telling me I should know what that is, so I looked:
"The Detection Club was formed in 1930 by a group of British mystery writers, including Agatha Christie, Dorothy L. Sayers, Ronald Knox, Freeman Wills Crofts, Arthur Morrison, John Rhode, Jessie Rickard, Baroness Emma Orczy, R. Austin Freeman, G. D. H. Cole, Margaret Cole, E. C. Bentley, Henry Wade, and H. C. Bailey. Anthony Berkeley was instrumental in setting up the club, and the first president was G. K. Chesterton. There was a fanciful initiation ritual with an oath probably written by either Chesterton or Sayers, and the club held regular dinner meetings in London."
And I've been looking for a book on one of my must read lists that says it is written by "The Detection Club" and is unfindable, if that is a word. Anyway, when he wasn't writing for the Daily Telegraph, writing short stories, historic novels, or doing whatever it is they did in "The Detection Club", he also created two detective series. His first series was about Reggie Fortune who had trained in medicine for family practice, but who was employed by Scotland Yard as a medical expert in murder cases. Fortune is found mostly in short stories, but I managed to read him in the book with the strange name, Save A Rope. Bailey's second series was about Joshua Clunk, a solicitor for lower class criminals. Clunk employed a staff of investigators to located dangerous criminals. Then there is this:
"Perhaps no other major fictional detective of the Golden Age appeared in as many short stories as the cherubic country doctor turned detective. Starting with Call Mr. Fortune in 1920 and ending with Mr. Fortune Here in 1940, Bailey published an astonishing twelve collections of Fortune short stories, not counting three omnibus collections of previously published material."
And this is getting back to why I feel sorry for our author, because of all the books he wrote, of all the things he did, I have never heard of the guy and I'm pretty sure no one I know has ever heard of him either. Well, no one here with me in Pennsylvania. Now on to the book.
As I said, I had never heard of him or his books before, so when I began reading this I had no idea who Reggie Fortune was and assumed he was a private investagator, one of those who always solves the case, so I was surprised to find out in the last few chapters of the book that Reggie was a doctor. A doctor of what I don't know, and why a doctor is going around solving murders, and solving attacks on all sorts of people, and flooding of villages - the dam broke - and all sorts of things, but also a doctor? Wow, this guy can do anything. But before we get to him we begin with Bill Butler and his wife Nancy, two characters I find annoying, of course I find almost everyone in the book annoying. Bill and Nancy are on a walk in the woods near the quarry, I am assuming they are near the quarry, everything and anyone else in the book is. Ok, here comes Bill at one of his annoying times, and for an entire page, when Nancy tells him she has brought along a lunch we have to listen to this answer:
"Providence taking charge, pressed me I should purchase plums, as I perceived no pears. Put the prize in the pack, pretty one. My private personality plays alliteration's artful aid. We'll pick a place in the pleasant pasture near the pure tarn and peck the precious parcel to pieces, and presently proceed to potter up to the peak, the Edge high point."
"No, child, not comic. Nor shall we climb the Edge. We'll eat below the tarn and stroll around."
"If you please. Pray mind you preserve your protectives p's and q's, pride in your port, poisonous petty prejudice plucked from your pink person and pushed off."
"Imbecile," said Nancy. "Close down".
"Perhaps you're right. I pulled a poor punch. I'm pumped. Pardon---"
See what I mean? He's annoying. There is also:
"Squdge on, squdge on, the web foot way, and merrily hent the ooze, ah, a merry heart goes all the way, a sad one drops in a snooze, ah."
Ah, Bill would have driven me crazy, but luckily - I guess - there are other people in the story and they are all about to join in. In just a moment we will meet some more of the villagers, because Bill and Nancy on their walk have just found a pile of bones. Nancy thinks it an animal, but no, it is human, although whether man or woman, old or young, we don't know for awhile, and it takes a long while to find out exactly who the person is, afterall, the head isn't there. And because of the bones Reggie Fortune enters our book. He also has a way of talking that at first annoyed me, but I became used to it:
"Expert medical intelligence often dim, same like police. I should say the medical men also differed, each backing his own constabulary, but unlike the police, wouldn't quarrel, agreed on a compromise, taking each police force anywhere and nowhere."
Oh, by now we have figured out the murdered person is a woman, it happens that a woman, a Ribham woman that is, is missing. Now some of this was confusing, or perhaps it is simply that I didn't care enough to follow what was going on, but from what I remember, the Ribham woman, who is missing, was secretary to the Clerk of the Ribham District Water Board. So as far as I can tell the Ribham District Water Board and the Ribland Regional Electricity Board both want the same valley, which is named Gilthwaite. Gilthwaite has a lake, and a tarn, and all kinds of wonderful things that would be perfect for a power station, however, it would also be wonderful to have as a reservior. So the Ribham water people say it is the secretary and that she was murdered and the Ribland electric people jeer at the assumption, and everyone is in a scandalous wrangle. Some think she was killed, if it was even her in the first place, taking unknown water secrets to the eletric people, that may be the other way around. However it is, there is some woman lying dead in the field and we don't know who she is without her head. To all this Reggie says:
"All officials and police, avoiding, same like you, fundamental question, why dead woman, Miss Griffiths or another, approached the top essential tarn. Sounds a long way up and from anywhere."
Nancy's sister arrives to stay with them for awhile, I don't know how long she stayed, she was still there when the book ended, here is a small part of a conversation she had with her sister:
"She may teach her husband to take care of himself," said Nancy.
"By that sin fell the angels," said Catherine.
"What does that mean?"
"You are ambitious."
And here is something for all you who love Dickens as much as I do:
"He is a futile person," said Nancy. "His life is hunting and shooting."
"The blood sports that made Enland what she isn't, the mother of the free. A prehistoric person. You civilised people are unjust to the type. The noble savage is no futile fool."
"Right you are, Catherine," said Bill. "He's Mrs. Harris."
"Too difficult."
"The illiteracy of Oxford. Mrs. Betsy Prig, in just wrath at appeals to Mrs. Harris, told Mrs. Sairey Gamp, who invented her, 'there's no sech a person'. The case of your noble savage is identical."
Most of the book is like that, bits of conversation that, while amusing at times, does nothing to move the plot along. On one of our walks, something we do a lot here, we meet the Kemps. Old Kemp, he is the owner of the quarry everyone else wants, his daughter Esther and son Frank; also with them is Stephen Whitfield, the quarry manager. Everyone seems pleasant enough except for old Mr. Kemp, he is never cheerful or pleasant:
You haven't answered the question. What is the cause of his gloom?"
"Sour joyless nature."
"You are cruel, " Nancy exclaimed. "Mr. Kemp is old and tired and lonely."
"With his son and daughter?" Catherine asked.
"His wife died years ago," said Nancy.
"That explains everything," Catherine smiled."
I, like the book am not getting very far with the story, so the rest of this will be very short. I hope. On one of the endless walks one person or another seems to be on constantly, Bill and Catherine find a man who has been hit on the head from behind but didn't see who did it. When they find him he doesn't know where he is, but tells them his name is Irvine. They want to call a doctor but he refuses and soon after departs from their cottage. About a page later more people show up at their door, this time it is the Kemp's and Stephen Whitfield, Mr. Whitfield has been hit from behind and was knocked out. He didn't see the person who attacked him. So now we have a murder and two attacks on two seperate men. As Nancy tells us:
I'm quite sure Mr. Irvine doesn't know Mr. Whitfield," said Nancy, "and it wasn't Mr. Whitfield who hurt Mr. Irvine and Mr. Irvine couldn't have wounded Mr. Whitfield."
"You darling," said Bill. "Yes, Irvine and Whitfield are alike innocent. And in their innocence an unknown man sought their blood."
"One man?" Catherine asked. "We have no proof the man who alarmed Mr. Irvine is the man who stunned Mr. Whitfield."
"Two unidentified killers at one time and place? Not likely, Catherine."
Yes, two attacks and a murder, Reggie is there to solve both crimes. Oh, then the dam bursts, falls down, gets blown up, whichever you prefer to believe. He will figure that out too. It has just occured to me that although I finished the book last night, and although I've been writing all my thoughts of it down in this review, I have no idea of who did what. I guess I never was all that interested in it if I already forget who was the bad guy. I said I'd make the rest of this quick and I will. If you want to read the book, go right ahead, it wasn't awful. Maybe I would have enjoyed it more if I had had more experience with Reggie and Mardale (the guy with Reggie), if I had read about them or even knew about them in earlier books. I would buy and read another book with our detective Reggie Fortune as the main character, just to learn more about him. Yes, I would buy and read it, but I won't go out looking for it. I can't imagine where I would find such a thing in the first place. Now I'm going to re-read the ending. Happy reading.
"The Detection Club was formed in 1930 by a group of British mystery writers, including Agatha Christie, Dorothy L. Sayers, Ronald Knox, Freeman Wills Crofts, Arthur Morrison, John Rhode, Jessie Rickard, Baroness Emma Orczy, R. Austin Freeman, G. D. H. Cole, Margaret Cole, E. C. Bentley, Henry Wade, and H. C. Bailey. Anthony Berkeley was instrumental in setting up the club, and the first president was G. K. Chesterton. There was a fanciful initiation ritual with an oath probably written by either Chesterton or Sayers, and the club held regular dinner meetings in London."
And I've been looking for a book on one of my must read lists that says it is written by "The Detection Club" and is unfindable, if that is a word. Anyway, when he wasn't writing for the Daily Telegraph, writing short stories, historic novels, or doing whatever it is they did in "The Detection Club", he also created two detective series. His first series was about Reggie Fortune who had trained in medicine for family practice, but who was employed by Scotland Yard as a medical expert in murder cases. Fortune is found mostly in short stories, but I managed to read him in the book with the strange name, Save A Rope. Bailey's second series was about Joshua Clunk, a solicitor for lower class criminals. Clunk employed a staff of investigators to located dangerous criminals. Then there is this:
"Perhaps no other major fictional detective of the Golden Age appeared in as many short stories as the cherubic country doctor turned detective. Starting with Call Mr. Fortune in 1920 and ending with Mr. Fortune Here in 1940, Bailey published an astonishing twelve collections of Fortune short stories, not counting three omnibus collections of previously published material."
And this is getting back to why I feel sorry for our author, because of all the books he wrote, of all the things he did, I have never heard of the guy and I'm pretty sure no one I know has ever heard of him either. Well, no one here with me in Pennsylvania. Now on to the book.
As I said, I had never heard of him or his books before, so when I began reading this I had no idea who Reggie Fortune was and assumed he was a private investagator, one of those who always solves the case, so I was surprised to find out in the last few chapters of the book that Reggie was a doctor. A doctor of what I don't know, and why a doctor is going around solving murders, and solving attacks on all sorts of people, and flooding of villages - the dam broke - and all sorts of things, but also a doctor? Wow, this guy can do anything. But before we get to him we begin with Bill Butler and his wife Nancy, two characters I find annoying, of course I find almost everyone in the book annoying. Bill and Nancy are on a walk in the woods near the quarry, I am assuming they are near the quarry, everything and anyone else in the book is. Ok, here comes Bill at one of his annoying times, and for an entire page, when Nancy tells him she has brought along a lunch we have to listen to this answer:
"Providence taking charge, pressed me I should purchase plums, as I perceived no pears. Put the prize in the pack, pretty one. My private personality plays alliteration's artful aid. We'll pick a place in the pleasant pasture near the pure tarn and peck the precious parcel to pieces, and presently proceed to potter up to the peak, the Edge high point."
"No, child, not comic. Nor shall we climb the Edge. We'll eat below the tarn and stroll around."
"If you please. Pray mind you preserve your protectives p's and q's, pride in your port, poisonous petty prejudice plucked from your pink person and pushed off."
"Imbecile," said Nancy. "Close down".
"Perhaps you're right. I pulled a poor punch. I'm pumped. Pardon---"
See what I mean? He's annoying. There is also:
"Squdge on, squdge on, the web foot way, and merrily hent the ooze, ah, a merry heart goes all the way, a sad one drops in a snooze, ah."
Ah, Bill would have driven me crazy, but luckily - I guess - there are other people in the story and they are all about to join in. In just a moment we will meet some more of the villagers, because Bill and Nancy on their walk have just found a pile of bones. Nancy thinks it an animal, but no, it is human, although whether man or woman, old or young, we don't know for awhile, and it takes a long while to find out exactly who the person is, afterall, the head isn't there. And because of the bones Reggie Fortune enters our book. He also has a way of talking that at first annoyed me, but I became used to it:
"Expert medical intelligence often dim, same like police. I should say the medical men also differed, each backing his own constabulary, but unlike the police, wouldn't quarrel, agreed on a compromise, taking each police force anywhere and nowhere."
Oh, by now we have figured out the murdered person is a woman, it happens that a woman, a Ribham woman that is, is missing. Now some of this was confusing, or perhaps it is simply that I didn't care enough to follow what was going on, but from what I remember, the Ribham woman, who is missing, was secretary to the Clerk of the Ribham District Water Board. So as far as I can tell the Ribham District Water Board and the Ribland Regional Electricity Board both want the same valley, which is named Gilthwaite. Gilthwaite has a lake, and a tarn, and all kinds of wonderful things that would be perfect for a power station, however, it would also be wonderful to have as a reservior. So the Ribham water people say it is the secretary and that she was murdered and the Ribland electric people jeer at the assumption, and everyone is in a scandalous wrangle. Some think she was killed, if it was even her in the first place, taking unknown water secrets to the eletric people, that may be the other way around. However it is, there is some woman lying dead in the field and we don't know who she is without her head. To all this Reggie says:
"All officials and police, avoiding, same like you, fundamental question, why dead woman, Miss Griffiths or another, approached the top essential tarn. Sounds a long way up and from anywhere."
Nancy's sister arrives to stay with them for awhile, I don't know how long she stayed, she was still there when the book ended, here is a small part of a conversation she had with her sister:
"She may teach her husband to take care of himself," said Nancy.
"By that sin fell the angels," said Catherine.
"What does that mean?"
"You are ambitious."
And here is something for all you who love Dickens as much as I do:
"He is a futile person," said Nancy. "His life is hunting and shooting."
"The blood sports that made Enland what she isn't, the mother of the free. A prehistoric person. You civilised people are unjust to the type. The noble savage is no futile fool."
"Right you are, Catherine," said Bill. "He's Mrs. Harris."
"Too difficult."
"The illiteracy of Oxford. Mrs. Betsy Prig, in just wrath at appeals to Mrs. Harris, told Mrs. Sairey Gamp, who invented her, 'there's no sech a person'. The case of your noble savage is identical."
Most of the book is like that, bits of conversation that, while amusing at times, does nothing to move the plot along. On one of our walks, something we do a lot here, we meet the Kemps. Old Kemp, he is the owner of the quarry everyone else wants, his daughter Esther and son Frank; also with them is Stephen Whitfield, the quarry manager. Everyone seems pleasant enough except for old Mr. Kemp, he is never cheerful or pleasant:
You haven't answered the question. What is the cause of his gloom?"
"Sour joyless nature."
"You are cruel, " Nancy exclaimed. "Mr. Kemp is old and tired and lonely."
"With his son and daughter?" Catherine asked.
"His wife died years ago," said Nancy.
"That explains everything," Catherine smiled."
I, like the book am not getting very far with the story, so the rest of this will be very short. I hope. On one of the endless walks one person or another seems to be on constantly, Bill and Catherine find a man who has been hit on the head from behind but didn't see who did it. When they find him he doesn't know where he is, but tells them his name is Irvine. They want to call a doctor but he refuses and soon after departs from their cottage. About a page later more people show up at their door, this time it is the Kemp's and Stephen Whitfield, Mr. Whitfield has been hit from behind and was knocked out. He didn't see the person who attacked him. So now we have a murder and two attacks on two seperate men. As Nancy tells us:
I'm quite sure Mr. Irvine doesn't know Mr. Whitfield," said Nancy, "and it wasn't Mr. Whitfield who hurt Mr. Irvine and Mr. Irvine couldn't have wounded Mr. Whitfield."
"You darling," said Bill. "Yes, Irvine and Whitfield are alike innocent. And in their innocence an unknown man sought their blood."
"One man?" Catherine asked. "We have no proof the man who alarmed Mr. Irvine is the man who stunned Mr. Whitfield."
"Two unidentified killers at one time and place? Not likely, Catherine."
Yes, two attacks and a murder, Reggie is there to solve both crimes. Oh, then the dam bursts, falls down, gets blown up, whichever you prefer to believe. He will figure that out too. It has just occured to me that although I finished the book last night, and although I've been writing all my thoughts of it down in this review, I have no idea of who did what. I guess I never was all that interested in it if I already forget who was the bad guy. I said I'd make the rest of this quick and I will. If you want to read the book, go right ahead, it wasn't awful. Maybe I would have enjoyed it more if I had had more experience with Reggie and Mardale (the guy with Reggie), if I had read about them or even knew about them in earlier books. I would buy and read another book with our detective Reggie Fortune as the main character, just to learn more about him. Yes, I would buy and read it, but I won't go out looking for it. I can't imagine where I would find such a thing in the first place. Now I'm going to re-read the ending. Happy reading.
September 20, 2012
Mr. Fortune is called in when Bill Bailey and his wife discover a skeleton on the fells. Two police jurisdictions disagree on who the skeleton belonged to, and how it got there. Mr. Fortune suspects just about everyone, but attention is really limited to a small group who seem to be working at cross purposes.
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