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Wycliffe #17
Wycliffe and the Dead Flautist
Classic crime featuring the ever-popular Chief Superintendent Wycliffe - 'Another must for collectors' Sunday Times. On the peaceful and secluded estate of Lord and Lady Bottrell, the body of amateur flautist Tony Mills has been found, shot by his own gun. It appears to be suicide - but a closer inspection reveals some sinister inconsistencies, and Chief Superintendent Wycliffe is called in. As Wycliffe begins to unravel the last days of the dead man, another mystery is the disappearance of Lizzie Biddick, a pretty young girl who worked as a maid for the Bottrell family. Gradually, bitter family feuds and secret illicit relationships are uncovered - and then another body shatters the pastoral peace of the Cornish estate for ever...
221 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1991
10 people are currently reading
69 people want to read
About the author
W.J. Burley
44 books25 followersBurley was born in Falmouth, Cornwall. Before he began writing, he was employed in senior management with various gas companies, before giving it up after the Second World War when he obtained a scholarship to study zoology at Balliol College, Oxford. After obtaining an honours degree he became a teacher. Appointed head of biology, first at Richmond & East Sheen County Grammar School in 1953, then at Newquay Grammar School in 1955, he was well established as a writer by the time he retired at the age of 60 in 1974. He died at his home in Holywell, Cornwall, on 15 August 2002.
John Burley had his first novel published when he was in his early fifties. His second published novel, two years later, saw the appearance of Superintendent Charles Wycliffe.
Over the next 25 years Burley produced another seventeen Wycliffe books and five other books.
Then, late in 1993, one of Burley's Wycliffe stories appeared on television in a pilot starring Jack Shepherd.
The pilot was followed by 37 episodes broadcast over a five year period.
By 1995 the author was, for the first time in his life, financially comfortable. He was over eighty.
But the success of the television series meant that John Burley found himself overshadowed by his creations. To the public, the name Wycliffe brought to mind the unsmiling face of Jack Shepherd, the actor. Even in the bookshops it was Shepherd's face that dominated the covers of Burley's paperbacks.
John Burley, however, continued to write and produced a further four Wycliffe titles. He was working on his 23rd Wycliffe novel, Wycliffe's Last Lap, when he died in 2002.
Recently a wish to restore the balance has emerged from amongst his readers. There is a feeling that we are neglecting a writer of quality, one who deserves to stand beside Simenon, the creator of Inspector Maigret.
Reading through John Burley's books in publication sequence, one notices how the author's voice gets stronger and his views more certain. And how his writing skills grow until, in the later books, a few words are all that it takes to pin down an image. These are the signs of a writer confident in his craft.
John Burley had his first novel published when he was in his early fifties. His second published novel, two years later, saw the appearance of Superintendent Charles Wycliffe.
Over the next 25 years Burley produced another seventeen Wycliffe books and five other books.
Then, late in 1993, one of Burley's Wycliffe stories appeared on television in a pilot starring Jack Shepherd.
The pilot was followed by 37 episodes broadcast over a five year period.
By 1995 the author was, for the first time in his life, financially comfortable. He was over eighty.
But the success of the television series meant that John Burley found himself overshadowed by his creations. To the public, the name Wycliffe brought to mind the unsmiling face of Jack Shepherd, the actor. Even in the bookshops it was Shepherd's face that dominated the covers of Burley's paperbacks.
John Burley, however, continued to write and produced a further four Wycliffe titles. He was working on his 23rd Wycliffe novel, Wycliffe's Last Lap, when he died in 2002.
Recently a wish to restore the balance has emerged from amongst his readers. There is a feeling that we are neglecting a writer of quality, one who deserves to stand beside Simenon, the creator of Inspector Maigret.
Reading through John Burley's books in publication sequence, one notices how the author's voice gets stronger and his views more certain. And how his writing skills grow until, in the later books, a few words are all that it takes to pin down an image. These are the signs of a writer confident in his craft.
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Displaying 1 - 15 of 15 reviews
November 6, 2012
Review from http://cornishlit.wordpress.com/
I’m very much enjoying listening to the current BBC radio series Foreign Bodies which charts the history of twentieth century Europe through its fictional detectives. This is social history explored through literary device and it works well but it also chimes with a conviction that I’ve long held: that W.J. Burley’s books are one of the more authentic Cornish voices in modern fiction. The press release accompanying the series offered this explanation for its significance:
Wycliffe became very much more famous than Burley during the latter part of the author’s lifetime, a circumstance that he struggled to come to terms with: it would seem that the successful TV adaptations were a somewhat Faustian pact. We live in a world where it is easy to deride the popular as the populist and success in the arts is often met with accusations of simplicity, as if nothing of any value can possibly appeal to the masses. Mirroring my contention with the Wycliffe novels, it is worth pointing out that Alan Kent has made just such an appeal to affirming a recognisably Cornish representation in the Wycliffe TV serial2. Before appearing on the small-screen, Burley did receive some critical praise for the Wycliffe books3 but it’s probably fair to say that the same kind of cultural snobbishness that could write off those adaptations as mass entertainment of little inherent worth rapidly saw those novels relegated to the insultingly named “English Cozy” genre. It’s ironic then, that the detective series to which Wycliffe is most often compared, Georges Simenon’s Maigret, should also be adapted by ITV and yet suffer none of this cultural baggage; perhaps the fact that the author was Belgian helped to save him and his character from Little-Englander attitudes?
It may seem peculiar to review the seventeenth novel in the Wycliffe series here before any of the earlier ones but I wanted to approach the topic with relatively fresh eyes and so chose one I had not read before. For readers new to the character, it’s worth noting that all the novels stand alone and, as such, they can easily be read in any order. For those who wish to read them in the order they were written in there are several little in-jokes concerning the development of police work during the time of the novels: written over a period of more than thirty years at the end of the twentieth century we see a lot of changes in the nature of the work (the introduction of computers, new forensic techniques and the forever shifting relationship with the mass-media) and in wider culture (posters on college bedsit walls change from The Beatles to Oasis, anti-smoking sentiment gradually creeps, brass bands are replaced by night-clubs, close-knit communities are encircled by tourists and second-home owners before fragmenting and reforming across a wider area facilitated by the modern ubiquity of car ownership). The one constant is Wycliffe, who never ages despite those around him getting promoted and retired through the course of the series.
Wycliffe and the Dead Flautist was first published in 1991 and another period detail from then that I’d almost forgotten is immediately to the fore: the resignation with which we expected an annual hosepipe ban. Here the rivers are low, the ground is hard and the plants are dying. In what’s called literary fiction (another genre name I despise – isn’t all fiction literary?) such a setting would provide a major element in the story; here it is mainly background detail – the very same kind of detail that was used to discuss European history in Foreign Bodies. The ever greater freedom of movement to Europe is also concisely expressed here as Wycliffe returns from a car holiday in France and muses on retiring there: both concepts really at their peak for the middle classes at that time; this is contrasted with rising disquiet about the influence of the EC (forever a concern in Cornwall) and with global warming.
The novel opens with a scene between young lovers, sneaking out after dark for an assignation. The relationship is delicately presented without a word wasted – a hallmark of Burley’s writing – the assignation takes place on a creek in the upper reaches of the tidal Fal and the landscape is instantly familiar to anyone who knows the area: redolent with the moist, musty smells of the wood and the sweet rottenness of the mud when the tide’s out. Burley sketches landscapes well – never over-describing but always writing enough for the reader to recognise places or else hang the details of his own imaginings on the framework. What he really excels at however, is writing atmosphere and he relishes exploring the psychological burden of people in a small community bound together through circumstance and convenience and how they react when those circumstances begin to change.
In many of his Wycliffe books, as well as others, he examines this particular facet of human nature through the device of an extended family living together in a large house; here he has two such families to play with: the local landlord and their hereditary estate lawyers living in an adjacent house, both some distance from the village (granite and slate core, sprawling bungalows around the edge…). By the time he wrote this book Burley knew exactly what he was doing with his prose and here he has fun throwing around literary references (Poirot, Frankenstein, Perry Mason) and joking with the reader regards literary conventions:
The mystery here is one of Burley’s better contrived ones: you may guess whodunnit, but explaining why is considerably more difficult and guesses are, of course, useless in a police procedural: evidence is required. Burley cast Wycliffe in Cornwall because that was his home for most of his life and the place he knew best; just like the difficulty in guessing why the killer did it in this book it’s difficult to explain why they should be such effective depictions of Cornwall: I very much doubt that was his intention. As the BBC indicated though, the devil is in the details. Burley did not set out to write about Cornwall but he couldn’t help himself, his love for and knowledge of his birthplace seeps into the pages of each Wycliffe book as the necessary detail for crimes committed and their detection. To write convincingly about people’s lives, passions and motives without that kind of detail would be nigh-on impossible.
I’m very much enjoying listening to the current BBC radio series Foreign Bodies which charts the history of twentieth century Europe through its fictional detectives. This is social history explored through literary device and it works well but it also chimes with a conviction that I’ve long held: that W.J. Burley’s books are one of the more authentic Cornish voices in modern fiction. The press release accompanying the series offered this explanation for its significance:
“In crime fiction, everyday details become crucial clues: the way people dress and speak, the cars they drive, the jobs they have, the meals they eat. And the motivations of the criminals often turn on guilty secrets: how wealth was created, who slept with who, or a character’s role during the war. The intricate story of a place and a time is often explained in more detail in detective novels than in more literary fiction or newspapers, both of which can take contemporary information for granted. “1
Wycliffe became very much more famous than Burley during the latter part of the author’s lifetime, a circumstance that he struggled to come to terms with: it would seem that the successful TV adaptations were a somewhat Faustian pact. We live in a world where it is easy to deride the popular as the populist and success in the arts is often met with accusations of simplicity, as if nothing of any value can possibly appeal to the masses. Mirroring my contention with the Wycliffe novels, it is worth pointing out that Alan Kent has made just such an appeal to affirming a recognisably Cornish representation in the Wycliffe TV serial2. Before appearing on the small-screen, Burley did receive some critical praise for the Wycliffe books3 but it’s probably fair to say that the same kind of cultural snobbishness that could write off those adaptations as mass entertainment of little inherent worth rapidly saw those novels relegated to the insultingly named “English Cozy” genre. It’s ironic then, that the detective series to which Wycliffe is most often compared, Georges Simenon’s Maigret, should also be adapted by ITV and yet suffer none of this cultural baggage; perhaps the fact that the author was Belgian helped to save him and his character from Little-Englander attitudes?
It may seem peculiar to review the seventeenth novel in the Wycliffe series here before any of the earlier ones but I wanted to approach the topic with relatively fresh eyes and so chose one I had not read before. For readers new to the character, it’s worth noting that all the novels stand alone and, as such, they can easily be read in any order. For those who wish to read them in the order they were written in there are several little in-jokes concerning the development of police work during the time of the novels: written over a period of more than thirty years at the end of the twentieth century we see a lot of changes in the nature of the work (the introduction of computers, new forensic techniques and the forever shifting relationship with the mass-media) and in wider culture (posters on college bedsit walls change from The Beatles to Oasis, anti-smoking sentiment gradually creeps, brass bands are replaced by night-clubs, close-knit communities are encircled by tourists and second-home owners before fragmenting and reforming across a wider area facilitated by the modern ubiquity of car ownership). The one constant is Wycliffe, who never ages despite those around him getting promoted and retired through the course of the series.
Wycliffe and the Dead Flautist was first published in 1991 and another period detail from then that I’d almost forgotten is immediately to the fore: the resignation with which we expected an annual hosepipe ban. Here the rivers are low, the ground is hard and the plants are dying. In what’s called literary fiction (another genre name I despise – isn’t all fiction literary?) such a setting would provide a major element in the story; here it is mainly background detail – the very same kind of detail that was used to discuss European history in Foreign Bodies. The ever greater freedom of movement to Europe is also concisely expressed here as Wycliffe returns from a car holiday in France and muses on retiring there: both concepts really at their peak for the middle classes at that time; this is contrasted with rising disquiet about the influence of the EC (forever a concern in Cornwall) and with global warming.
The novel opens with a scene between young lovers, sneaking out after dark for an assignation. The relationship is delicately presented without a word wasted – a hallmark of Burley’s writing – the assignation takes place on a creek in the upper reaches of the tidal Fal and the landscape is instantly familiar to anyone who knows the area: redolent with the moist, musty smells of the wood and the sweet rottenness of the mud when the tide’s out. Burley sketches landscapes well – never over-describing but always writing enough for the reader to recognise places or else hang the details of his own imaginings on the framework. What he really excels at however, is writing atmosphere and he relishes exploring the psychological burden of people in a small community bound together through circumstance and convenience and how they react when those circumstances begin to change.
“His wife was silent for so long that he turned to face her. She was looking at him, her eyes so coldly speculative that he was disturbed. She said in a level, unemotional voice: ‘Up to now I’ve never troubled about your little games but if you’re mixed up in this then you’d better watch out.’
He was alarmed; he had never known her either so bitter or so self-confident, usually she took refuge in hysterical weeping. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about Beth. What am I supposed to have done? Unless you tell me – ‘”
In many of his Wycliffe books, as well as others, he examines this particular facet of human nature through the device of an extended family living together in a large house; here he has two such families to play with: the local landlord and their hereditary estate lawyers living in an adjacent house, both some distance from the village (granite and slate core, sprawling bungalows around the edge…). By the time he wrote this book Burley knew exactly what he was doing with his prose and here he has fun throwing around literary references (Poirot, Frankenstein, Perry Mason) and joking with the reader regards literary conventions:
“’It’s overcomplicated. The story writer creates a theoretical framework for a crime and by devising alibis and false trails he turns it into a test of wits. The real-life criminal, if he’s going to get away with it, keeps it simple and, if we catch him, it’s as much by luck as by cunning.’”
The mystery here is one of Burley’s better contrived ones: you may guess whodunnit, but explaining why is considerably more difficult and guesses are, of course, useless in a police procedural: evidence is required. Burley cast Wycliffe in Cornwall because that was his home for most of his life and the place he knew best; just like the difficulty in guessing why the killer did it in this book it’s difficult to explain why they should be such effective depictions of Cornwall: I very much doubt that was his intention. As the BBC indicated though, the devil is in the details. Burley did not set out to write about Cornwall but he couldn’t help himself, his love for and knowledge of his birthplace seeps into the pages of each Wycliffe book as the necessary detail for crimes committed and their detection. To write convincingly about people’s lives, passions and motives without that kind of detail would be nigh-on impossible.
February 27, 2021
Wycliffe and the Dead Flautist is the 17th book in the Superintendent Charles Wycliffe mystery series by W.J. Burley. The books are set in the Cornwall region of the UK. I've not read the series in any particular order and it hasn't affected my enjoyment of the books by reading them in this manner.
Wycliffe and his wife Helen have returned from the Dordogne region of France and Wycliffe is drawn immediately into a 'murder', or more accurately a suicide, which the investigating officer believes to be a murder. This has occurred on the estate of Lord and Lady Bottrel; the body of their groundskeeper has been found in his cottage, killed with his shotgun.
An aside here. Wycliffe has returned thinking he might like to retire in the Dordogne... except "his French wasn't very good, he found the summers there too hot, he had never fished in his life and he didn't particularly like the French.'... lol
Anyway, the body has been discovered by a young couple, son of the Lord and daughter of the Lord's lawyer, whose home is also on the estate. The investigation will for the most part stick to that seemingly isolated estate, with Wycliffe and his team, led by Inspector Kersey, his Scene of Crime expert Fox and DS Lucy Lane. Of course there are others who help, including the pathologist Franks, with whom he has a respectful relationship... Besides the investigators who make up an interesting team, you've got a mix of suspects / witnesses from the Bottrels, the Landers and the family of missing young woman Lizzie Biddick, whose importance to the investigation grows as the story moves along.
I do like Wycliffe, who uses his forensic teams and investigators, often as sounding boards for his thoughts as he tries to get a sense of the investigation. Wycliffe needs to be at the location (most Superintendents would stay back and let the investigators do their work) to get a feel for the area for the people for the crime scene. Of course that means that lovely, understanding Helen is once again on her own.
As always, an interesting mystery with tenuous clues and uncooperative but seemingly cooperative witnesses. It seems at times like Wycliffe is pulling teeth. There is a mixture of sexual issues, maybe blackmail, etc that Wycliffe must work through as he and his team investigate. I like the way they interact, an excellent working relationship, discussions over breakfast and meals at the local inn.
Considering the small cast of characters, progress is slow but steady and there are no obvious suspects (or all they all suspects?). The ending comes quickly and ultimately satisfyingly. I like Wycliffe very much, his style, his personality and I also like those who work with him, no matter how small their role. I think I like that we aren't swamped with their personal issues; it's all about the investigation. All in all, I enjoyed very much, have no complaints with the progress of the investigation or the final denouement. Very satisfying; a favorite series of mine. (4.5 stars)
Wycliffe and his wife Helen have returned from the Dordogne region of France and Wycliffe is drawn immediately into a 'murder', or more accurately a suicide, which the investigating officer believes to be a murder. This has occurred on the estate of Lord and Lady Bottrel; the body of their groundskeeper has been found in his cottage, killed with his shotgun.
An aside here. Wycliffe has returned thinking he might like to retire in the Dordogne... except "his French wasn't very good, he found the summers there too hot, he had never fished in his life and he didn't particularly like the French.'... lol
Anyway, the body has been discovered by a young couple, son of the Lord and daughter of the Lord's lawyer, whose home is also on the estate. The investigation will for the most part stick to that seemingly isolated estate, with Wycliffe and his team, led by Inspector Kersey, his Scene of Crime expert Fox and DS Lucy Lane. Of course there are others who help, including the pathologist Franks, with whom he has a respectful relationship... Besides the investigators who make up an interesting team, you've got a mix of suspects / witnesses from the Bottrels, the Landers and the family of missing young woman Lizzie Biddick, whose importance to the investigation grows as the story moves along.
I do like Wycliffe, who uses his forensic teams and investigators, often as sounding boards for his thoughts as he tries to get a sense of the investigation. Wycliffe needs to be at the location (most Superintendents would stay back and let the investigators do their work) to get a feel for the area for the people for the crime scene. Of course that means that lovely, understanding Helen is once again on her own.
As always, an interesting mystery with tenuous clues and uncooperative but seemingly cooperative witnesses. It seems at times like Wycliffe is pulling teeth. There is a mixture of sexual issues, maybe blackmail, etc that Wycliffe must work through as he and his team investigate. I like the way they interact, an excellent working relationship, discussions over breakfast and meals at the local inn.
Considering the small cast of characters, progress is slow but steady and there are no obvious suspects (or all they all suspects?). The ending comes quickly and ultimately satisfyingly. I like Wycliffe very much, his style, his personality and I also like those who work with him, no matter how small their role. I think I like that we aren't swamped with their personal issues; it's all about the investigation. All in all, I enjoyed very much, have no complaints with the progress of the investigation or the final denouement. Very satisfying; a favorite series of mine. (4.5 stars)
January 18, 2016
Not a good one by any stretch of the imagination. You get the usual short-comings; it groans with inbuilt prejudices and outdated opinions*, the minor characters are from amateur dramatics, it's riddled with over-used similes. The things you can depend on in a Wycliffe are absent; the setting doesn't work, the police procedures are inept (there are so few possible suspects and none of them are suspected), the all important motive is from the crime writer's bag of easy options and the star of the show flickers rather than twinkles. Burley does like to pick a word and use it at every opportunity. In this book it is "promontory". If you treat yourself to a Malteser every time you read it you won't have many left come the dramatic climax.
Wycliffe also seems to have been watching Columbo.
Having said all that. I enjoyed it. The literary equivalent of a packet of home brand digestive biscuits. They're not the best but you'll undoubtedly finish them.
*and that is taking into account that it was written in 1991
Wycliffe also seems to have been watching Columbo.
Having said all that. I enjoyed it. The literary equivalent of a packet of home brand digestive biscuits. They're not the best but you'll undoubtedly finish them.
*and that is taking into account that it was written in 1991
February 21, 2023
I get an increasing sense of disappointment reading my way through the Wycliffes - Burley started with potential, but I feel the writing atrophied, became sterile if not formulaic. Pressure to publish a known-quantity product, to churn out another story? Too much time talking to working coppers about police procedure and getting acclimatised to a police perspective on crime and psychology? Burley's politics do seem to move to the Right - this book includes the casual aside of "the Met people ... invented global warming" (the book was published in 1991, so maybe he could be excused ... to a degree).
Certainly the psychology becomes sterile - he ceases pursuing any real complexity, settles for more simplistic, one-dimensional, Ladybird book of criminal pathology explanations and devotes more time to the pursuit of verisimilitude ... we get what might pass for a forensic account of cause of death and the methods used to confirm this, we get page-by-page elaboration of police procedures and crime scene investigation ... we get Wycliffe wandering off for walks and talks.
There's actually a potentially good plot/killer in this story, but it needed better handling, something more idiosyncratic rather than formulaic, needed a different perspective, a more thoroughly epxlored characterisation of the killer and the reasons for killing.
But characterisation has ceased to be a strong point with Burleigh - he seems to have grown lazy, or at least to have been seduced by formula. Wycliffe, as a character, definitely regresses over the course of the books - there was, originally, scope for complexity, but the character subsides into a one-dimensional plot device for explaining how the crime is solved. Again, I suspect Burley's politics were moving to the Right, he was becoming increasingly conservative with age while I believe Wycliffe would have grown as a character by moving Left.
The detective, however, becomes somewhat more judgemental, the ensemble cast of coppers, pathologist. long-suffering wife become progressively narrowly drawn - there's more attention paid to what they eat and drink and where they eat and drink than to who they are.
There are only a handful of books left in the series ... I'll plod on, but with a growing sense of disappointment.
Certainly the psychology becomes sterile - he ceases pursuing any real complexity, settles for more simplistic, one-dimensional, Ladybird book of criminal pathology explanations and devotes more time to the pursuit of verisimilitude ... we get what might pass for a forensic account of cause of death and the methods used to confirm this, we get page-by-page elaboration of police procedures and crime scene investigation ... we get Wycliffe wandering off for walks and talks.
There's actually a potentially good plot/killer in this story, but it needed better handling, something more idiosyncratic rather than formulaic, needed a different perspective, a more thoroughly epxlored characterisation of the killer and the reasons for killing.
But characterisation has ceased to be a strong point with Burleigh - he seems to have grown lazy, or at least to have been seduced by formula. Wycliffe, as a character, definitely regresses over the course of the books - there was, originally, scope for complexity, but the character subsides into a one-dimensional plot device for explaining how the crime is solved. Again, I suspect Burley's politics were moving to the Right, he was becoming increasingly conservative with age while I believe Wycliffe would have grown as a character by moving Left.
The detective, however, becomes somewhat more judgemental, the ensemble cast of coppers, pathologist. long-suffering wife become progressively narrowly drawn - there's more attention paid to what they eat and drink and where they eat and drink than to who they are.
There are only a handful of books left in the series ... I'll plod on, but with a growing sense of disappointment.
May 1, 2022
This is my second Wycliffe novel, and I think I have a new favourite detective. There is something about this character, and about the way these books are written that makes you feel that even though bad things happen, the world is still a relatively nice place - a rather English holiday resort with unpredictable weather sort of place.
Wycliffe is summoned to look at the body of the dead flautist, seemingly a suicide apart from the small detail of a short piece of string. The events take place exclusively on the estate of a rather down at heel Baron, and concern only his family, his lawyers (and their family), and his few employees. It's a small and secluded world where relationships have all got a bit tangled. I did spot who -dun-it just a few pages before the reveal, so it kept me curious all the way through while still allowing me the gratification of apparently being slightly ahead of the police. But then you find that Wycliffe was on to it all along!
Wycliffe is summoned to look at the body of the dead flautist, seemingly a suicide apart from the small detail of a short piece of string. The events take place exclusively on the estate of a rather down at heel Baron, and concern only his family, his lawyers (and their family), and his few employees. It's a small and secluded world where relationships have all got a bit tangled. I did spot who -dun-it just a few pages before the reveal, so it kept me curious all the way through while still allowing me the gratification of apparently being slightly ahead of the police. But then you find that Wycliffe was on to it all along!
December 9, 2017
Enjoyed the character development and story line. Sometimes the storyline in this series can seem slow, but I don't mind that. I do enjoy the series. The Cornish estate, small village and characters added a nice flavor - Enjoyed.
Read
October 7, 2019Du mal à démarrer pcq beaucoup de noms, et aucun marqueur de temps (j'ai commencé par imaginer du 19ème siècle, puis me suis décidé sur du 1980 1990).
Ça se lit plus facilement à la fin. Et le dénouement est très satisfaisant.
Cadeau d'Irlande d'Alexis.
Ça se lit plus facilement à la fin. Et le dénouement est très satisfaisant.
Cadeau d'Irlande d'Alexis.
July 4, 2021
another good read
May 22, 2022
A brilliant read.
September 3, 2025
I love British lit
August 31, 2013
Chief Superintendent Charles Wycliffe walks about a lot...no, make that, he walks about quite a lot, an extraordinary amount, a nearly unbelievable amount...in fact, the only time during the murder investigation that he's in an auto is when a constable is sent to pluck him from a fierce rainstorm, during which he is walking about with a plastic bag held over his head. While he's walking, he is also thinking, mulling over the lies and truths people have told him, putting pieces of the puzzle together in various ways, trying to figure out how all these lives interconnect with each other...the only thing he doesn't have to figure out is who has secrets needing to remain hidden --they all do.
In this very British murder mystery, clues pile upon clues, and many of them are red herrings, dragged across the trail for Mr Wycliffe's benefit. Actually, the author engages in a bit of misdirection himself with the reader. For all that "Flautist" has to do with either the murdered chap or the plot, he might as well be a cellist, a trumpeter or a kazoo player. The plot is complex and convoluted, certainly as much as the mind of the murderer, which will likely the astute reader to either suss out or suspect the true guilty party a bit ahead of Mr Wycliffe.
This book is appealing on many levels, but the least because Mr Burley is very adept at using his main character to mentally dissect both suspects and victims. Peeling away the layers of their lies reveals the layers of their lives. Also, Wycliffe is himself likable and engaging, asking all the right questions (usually) and feeding the sleuth-minded reader enough information to play along. While a manor cozy (or even a village cozy), it's also a police procedural, as well as a novel of manners and class. A very good read.
In this very British murder mystery, clues pile upon clues, and many of them are red herrings, dragged across the trail for Mr Wycliffe's benefit. Actually, the author engages in a bit of misdirection himself with the reader. For all that "Flautist" has to do with either the murdered chap or the plot, he might as well be a cellist, a trumpeter or a kazoo player. The plot is complex and convoluted, certainly as much as the mind of the murderer, which will likely the astute reader to either suss out or suspect the true guilty party a bit ahead of Mr Wycliffe.
This book is appealing on many levels, but the least because Mr Burley is very adept at using his main character to mentally dissect both suspects and victims. Peeling away the layers of their lies reveals the layers of their lives. Also, Wycliffe is himself likable and engaging, asking all the right questions (usually) and feeding the sleuth-minded reader enough information to play along. While a manor cozy (or even a village cozy), it's also a police procedural, as well as a novel of manners and class. A very good read.
December 19, 2016
Chief Superintendent Wycliffe is called to a village near Truro when a dead man, at first thought to have died by suicide, is determined to have been murdered instead. Wycliffe comes into contact with Lord and Bottrell, the local aristocrats for whom the dead man had worked, and the Landers who have served the Bottrells as lawyers for generations. But all these families have secrets to conceal, and Wycliffe must somehow figure out the truth of it all…. I quite enjoyed this novel, the 17th in the long-running series; it was definitely more entertaining and solid than its immediate predecessor. I did figure out the culprit fairly early on, but that didn’t detract from my enjoyment of the story. I am not as enamoured of this series as I was at the beginning, but as I’m getting close to the end of the series, I expect I’ll finish it all; this one gets a slight recommendation from me.
June 11, 2014
This is the first of Burley's inspector Wycliffe series that I have read and I have thoroughly enjoyed it. Places are evoked skillfully, characters distinctly developed and the plot is original. These combined to keep me connected all the way through without taking short cuts, which I frequently do with formulaic books.
I found this by chance in a second hand book shop in Cornwall and will seek out more. It's great to come across a new good writer in the crime genre.
I found this by chance in a second hand book shop in Cornwall and will seek out more. It's great to come across a new good writer in the crime genre.
February 25, 2016
I liked this book. However, I guessed correctly 'who did it', admittedly for the wrong reasons! I look forward to finding more of Mr Burley's books. Only 225 pages, probably around 60,00 words, so a quick read. Yes I can recommend this.
January 20, 2012
man is shot, made to look like suicide
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