"To see what isn't true is easy. But to see what is true will take some doing."- J.W. van de Wetering (A Glimpse of Nothingness, 1975)
The
now-late H.R.F. Keating emerged as a mystery writer at the tail end of the
Golden era, publishing his first novel in 1959, but didn't made his name until
five years later with the creation of a downtrodden, Bombay policeman, Ganesh
Ghote, whose trials as an underdog made him a fan favorite.
In
those intervening years, Keating accumulated experience as a novelist by
cutting his teeth on a handful of standalone detective/thrillers and his second
foray, Zen There Was Murder (1960), impressed me as a farewell to a
previous, by-gone era. The setting is an old-fashioned, English country mansion
converted into a school for adult educational courses (e.g. philosophy)
conveniently occupied with a closed circle of suspects and a Japanese artifact
that ends up being swiped from the premise – presented to the reader in the
guise of a locked room mystery. However, don't expect too much from its
explanation, because that's the only part of the solution in which contemporary
attitudes rears it ugly head.
Mr.
Utamaro has the task of lecturing a small, but argumental, assembly on Zen
Buddhism. There's a visiting schoolmaster, Alasdair Stuart, and a clergyman in
limbo, Rev. Cyprian Applecheek, alongside the misses Flaveen Mills and Olive
Rohan, but Honor Brentt is there hunting material for her weekly column in The
World with her husband, Gerry, in tow – in order to help him abstain from
women. Zen is discussed for the first couple of chapters, when the first
disturbance happens: a Japanese small-sword, wakizashi, vanishes from
underneath its glass showcasing that was hotwired to a burglar-alarm.
They
had to install an alarm system after the media picked up on a story attached to
its bigger brother, the katana, now residing in an American police
museum and confused the swords. However, the age of the small-sword gives it a
bloody history of its own, because it was the blade used for hara-kiri.
As I said above, you shouldn’t expect too much from the theft of the sword and
stands out in the story as a small piece of anti-detective material in what’s
otherwise a respectful send-up of the genre. The group decides to keep the
police out of the affair and conduct their own sanzen interviews, in
which Mr. Utamaro materializes as the Asian compeer of the Hungarian historian,
Dr. Bottwink, from Cyril Hare's stand-alone mystery An English Murder
(1951).
Mr.
Utamaro is unable to prevent the small-sword from turning up protruding,
predictably, from the body of one of his students, but he's able to solve the
case and Keating gave his readers a surprisingly fair opportunity to do the
same. Granted, it's not all that difficult to solve and I was put on the right
track, early on, by what might have been unacknowledged joke in the story. There
were also ideas planted here that took shape in succeeding novels. Here two German
maids regularly interrupt the story to comment on the characters and events taking
place in that sprawling mansion and they may have paved the way for Mrs. Cragg,
a charwoman and occasional sleuth, from Death of a Fat God (1963) and a
number of short stories. The seemingly impossible disappearance of the Japanese
short-sword and how it came to disappear was revisited and improved upon with a
vanishing one-rupee note in The Perfect Murder (1964).
Zen
There Was Murder
stands as a fair-play detective story as well as allowing the readers of today to
examine the ideas a young writer was working with and a writer who, evidently,
never seems to have lost that youthful spark of enthusiasm for writing and
mysteries. I have said in the past that Keating was as a mystery writer at his
best when he wasn't trying to write mysteries. Keating was at his best
when he hurled Ghote into a David vs. Goliath-style battle-of-wits, but he wasn't
completely inept with the form and I'm glad to discover that The Body in the
Billiard Room (1987) wasn't a one-off as a good example of classic, English
drawing room mystery.
By the way, I really love the title of this book.
Other H.R.F. Keating reviews:
Filmi, Filmi Inspector Ghote (1976)
Inspector Ghote Draws a Line (1979)
Under a Monsoon Cloud (1986)
I have only read Keating's Inspector Ghote series and enjoyed both the novels and the television series in which veteran Indian actor plays Ghote. He was very convincing. I'll look up this particular book with the interesting title.
ReplyDeleteWhile the book sounds good, I must admit the pun made me wince in pain. Granted, I have no right to complain after pulling off such stunts as "Of A Maze and Men", "The Doc It Was That Died" or "Come and Be Grilled". But by gum, I can sit here indignantly all day if I must!
ReplyDeleteThe pun is a bit painful TC but I haven't read nearly enough of Keating's output and don't think I've ever come across this one - cheers mate.
ReplyDeleteOh, come on guys, it's not like a bad word joke is punitive by law!
ReplyDelete