The British fondness for tradition is no secret, but some members of London's ffeatherstonehaugh's club (pronounced "Fanshaw," naturally) seem to be taking things a bit too far, bumping off officers of the club who threaten their ordered, if highly eccentric, way of life. After the club secretary allegedly jumps to his death from the club's gallery, Robert Amiss, conveniently unemployed at the moment, agrees to help his friends at the Police Department get to the bottom of things. Hiring on as a club waiter, Amiss finds himself caught up in a bizarre caricature of a club, run by and for debauched geriatrics, with skeletons rattling in every closet. The portraits are of roues, the library houses erotic literature, and the servants are treated like Victorian lackeys - on a good day. Why are there so few members? How are they financed? Will Amiss keep his job - and his cover - despite the enmity of the ferocious, snuff-covered Colonel Flagg? The answers lie in this ingenious, uproarious mystery that will keep you guessing - and laughing - until the very end.
After being a Cambridge postgraduate, a teacher, a marketing executive and a civil servant, Ruth Dudley Edwards became a full-time writer. A journalist, broadcaster, historian and prize-winning biographer who lives in London, her recent non-fiction includes books about The Economist, the Foreign Office, the Orange Order and Fleet Street. The first of her ten satirical mysteries, Corridors of Death, was short-listed for the CWA John Creasey Memorial Dagger; two others were nominated for the CWA Last Laugh Award. Her two short stories appeared respectively in The Economist and the Oxford Book of Detective Stories.
At the gentleman club, ffeatherstonehaughs, did the club secretary Trueman committ suicide. Robert Amiss is sent in undercover as a waiter. Then there is another death. An enjoyable modern mystery
I couldn't remember which corrupt and vile old man was which, which made this more of a struggle. They just blended together into a miasma of awfulness.
Still, Robert, Ellis, and Jim were fun as always, and there was a lot of humor, some sly, some genuinely hilarious, and some aging as badly as milk.
It's a comic murder mystery held back by having only one main joke: the eccentricity and silliness of gentlemen of the British upper class and their private clubs. Its saving grace is the playful and effective partnership between the well educated but somewhat shiftless former civil servant Robert Amiss and Detective Sergeant Ellis Pooley, the toff with the common touch. They share a sense of humour almost sufficient to carry the story's shortcomings.
Amiss is persuaded by Pooley to take a job as a waiter at a once wealthy, now a little shady, gentlemen's club in London: ffeatherstonehaugh's – pronounced Fanshaw's and spelt with a small f. Pooley has convinced himself that the recent death of the club secretary was not suicide and he needs a man of discretion he can trust on the inside to poke around for evidence and likely suspects. Amiss, in need of paid employment, agrees.
The club has more than its fair share of snobbish eccentrics, each one worth a laugh or two, and so many skeletons in its cupboards that it is amazing it has never been raided by the Metropolitan Police vice squad. The servants are treated as a lower form of life and the contents of the wine cellar and the library are slowly being sold off to fill gaps in the club's finances, which are mainly caused by corruption. Amiss works his way through the establishment and its denizens, ably sustained with fresh champagne and gourmet dishes by Pooley. The servants' food is on a par with that provided to boys in a public school. All is going well until a bomb explodes and Amiss is close to being an ex-investigator.
So much of the crime plot is silly – not silly as in for comic effect just unrealistically silly. It comes close to ruining the novel's good points in the characters of the main triumvirate: Amiss, Pooley, and Detective Inspector Jim Milton; added to a splash of Gooseneck, the club's head waiter – it's not his real name, giving nicknames is another tiresome eccentricity of those with more wealth and status than intelligence – and his secret gay lover Sunil. I felt that the dark deeds and villainy could have been made darker to give a balance to the bright light-heartedness of much of the humour. As it is it almost works – but not quite.
Robert Amiss allows Ellis Pooley to persuade him to apply for a job as a waiter at a gentlemen’s club to try and find out what is going on there. Was the recent death of the club secretary suicide or murder? It soon becomes clear that certain stalwarts who have taken up permanent residence in the club are doing very nicely thank you and that they do not want any changes made by their reforming chairman. When that same chairman is killed in a bomb blast which knocks out Robert as well things become serious and Ellis and his boss, Jim Milton are sent in to investigate.
This is an amusing look at the arcane world of gentlemen’s clubs with plenty of obnoxious characters as well as some likeable ones. Robert finds himself needing food parcels from Ellis because the food for the staff is so dire though the food for residents and guests is first class. I enjoyed this entertaining story which pokes fun at many stereotypes while telling an excellent crime story.
If you like your crime stories in the classic mould with interesting and likeable series characters then you may enjoy this series featuring Robert Amiss. It is best to read them in the order in which they were written so that you can see the relationships between the characters developing. The first book in the series is ‘Corridors of Death’.
This was an odd book. Things at the Ffeatherstonehaugh (pronounced Fanshaw) Club are very strange. The secretary of the club died suddenly and the police are not sure if he jumped or if he was pushed off the railing of the atrium. Robert Amiss, a friend of the police, is hired at the club to see if he can find out what happened. He enters a very strange world. The club is run by a group of about 5 very elderly men who live there. The staff are treated horribly but the club members are living way above their means. This was a fair mystery but it was a little boring in places and was a slow read.
This is a wonderful, wonderful book. If Edwards hadn't written any other mysteries, she would still be a notable in the field. The scene is one of those men's Clubs in London. A murder occurs and Robert Amiss is put on the job as a sort of waiter to scope out the territory. A cast of uniquely bizarre characters, a decent mystery puzzle, and some hilarious happenings make "Clubbed" one of my very favorite mysteries.
Ruth Dudley Edwards continues her dissection of the pillars of English life when detective sergeant Pooley asks his unemployed friend Robert Amiss to take a job as a waiter in an unorthodox London club. The club secretary recently died in an accident that strikes Pooley as murder, and Robert--living as well as working on club premises--can quietly investigate. But a second death is obviously murder, and Robert himself is endangered.
An odd amalgam of classic thirties detective stories with a contemporary setting that makes none of it believable. Edwards' civilian hero/friend of the police Robert Amiss is reminiscent of Nigel Strangeways, but not as appealing. Can't remember how I was led to this...