A fishy story in more ways than one.
This is the second of three mysteries written by the long-forgotten woman who wrote under the pen name Harriet Rutland. It was published in 1940, close on the heels of her popular first book "Knock, Murderer, Knock!" If you thought the inhabitants of the Hydropathic Institute were eccentric, wait 'til you meet the gang at The Fisherman's Rest in the seaside village of Aberllyn, Wales. As any dedicated angler will tell you, you don't HAVE to be crazy to be a fisherman, but it helps.
It's the end of the season and the crowds have thinned out. Even the hotel owners and the boatmen ("ghillies") are happy to have a rest, though it means less money and (according to one of the guests) the Welsh have money boxes instead of hearts. The remaining fishermen are of the die-hard variety who are happy to put up with bad weather in exchange for being rid of the summer people, whom they regard as dabblers with no real passion for the Sacred Sport.
Not that the die-hards get along with each other, either. Each has his own iron-clad beliefs about which fish are worth pursuing and how to catch them. More blood is spilt (figuratively) in fierce evening arguments than is found on the bleeding hooks of those who do happen to hook a fish.
Some of the crew are regulars, such as the retired General (accompanied this year by his irritating sister) and the retired Major. Quiet Mr Winkley is harder to figure out, especially when it becomes known that his phone number is that of the London Metropolitan CID. He's really on vacation, but when there's a suspicious death, he's determined to prove that the victim didn't die of natural causes.
Mrs Mumsby is a regular, but she's not after fish. A wealthy widow, she likes male attention, even if she has to pay for it. Mr and Mrs Pindar are a pleasant couple, but not really keen enough on fishing to be in Aberllyn off season. And why are they so uncomfortable when other guests try to find out more about them?
Even harder to understand is Mrs Partridge, a widow with a young daughter who's loudly bored by fishing and fisherman. Pansy and her BF are thoroughly modern, sophisticated types and their idea of "sport" doesn't include cold, wet days in a boat waiting for something to take the bait.
Also hard to figure are quiet Mr Weston and his fey, nervous son Claude. Weston is devoted to his son, but Claude has become attached to Mrs Mumsby, who shows an unexpected maternal streak toward the boy. Talk about the Odd Couple!
There's a death, of course. Naturally it turns out to be murder, although the local doctor thinks Mr Winkley is a misguided fool and even Winkley's colleagues in London are less than wowwed by his deductions. As they point out to him, his theory of poisoning-by-fishhook is possible, but requires a giant leap of faith and more knowledge of the properties of various poisons than Winkley possesses.
It's an entertaining book because of the author's comic take on fishermen and their obsession with their hobby. Mr Winkley is a likable man, although I'm not sure I can swallow the Met CID having a man on staff whose only job is to collect odd coincidences and tie them together to help the REAL detectives solve crimes which have baffled them.
As to the motive, it's one of those old-sins-cast-long-shadows cases, which inevitably involve the reader having to swallow the coincidence of people who've long-ago lost touch ending up in the same isolated location. A loving parent will go far to protect his/her child, but surely not without considering the risks involved and alternative plans. Is anyone ever THAT confident about getting away with murder?
Rutland had talent. Her people seem like stock characters, but most turn out to have unexpected depths. Sometimes their secrets and plots are believable and sometimes they're not, but cardboard cut-outs they aren't.
And she was reckless, a necessary quality for a first-rate writer. Loved her throw-away line about the Irish. If she was that outspoken during the decade she lived near Cork, her life must have been lively,
I'm sorry she stopped after three books. It's interesting to speculate about what direction her writing might have taken. There's nothing formulaic about her mysteries and she had the potential to create some outstanding work.