The Crime-Book Society No. 7
When I know next to nothing about an author, and before I start a Blog, I usually search the Internet for basic information. This time, I rather wish I hadn't. Eden Phillpotts (1862-1960) was born in India to an officer in the Indian Army and his wife. Three years later, the father having died, the widow brought her three young sons back to England and settled in Plymouth. In 1879 Eden, aged 17, moved to London to work as an insurance clerk. Fascinated by the stage, he aimed to become an actor. Realising he would never be good enough, he turned to writing and, for around 50 years, he churned out three or four books annually. Over 250 works included poetry, short stories, plays, mysteries and novels, the latter usually set in rural Devon. Only 10% of his output can be classified as crime/detective fiction and it was not until 1921, when The Grey Room was published, did he regularly produce works of that genre. Between 1921-30 he wrote eight such-like novels and between 1931-44 a further eighteen. "Found Drowned" was published in 1931. He died at his home in Broadclyst near Exeter in December 1960.
So far, so good. However, in an interview in 1976, his daughter Adelaide informed a researcher that her father had regularly engaged with her in some form of sexual activity - from the age of 6 or 7 until she was thirty-three. He also actively stopped her from having relationships with other men (in 1929, he wrote against that Jew...the damned swine...that sort of vermin who was one of her suitors.) When she did finally marry in 1951, her father never met her again, even though she tried to re-establish contact. Not good.
"Found Drowned" revolves round Dr. Meredith, a local doctor, who investigates the death of a banjo player found in a cave, initially suspected to be a suicide. It is set in a coastal village near Daleham and develops into a complex case involving the wealthy Sir Max Fordham's household, a missing antiques dealer and delves into a significant question of identity. It soon becomes a murder story, rather than one of a suicide. Dr Meredith, now retired from his practice, is determined to investigate with the eventual help of his friend Inspector Forbes, the Governor of a local H.M. Prison, who initially disagrees with his prognosis. Meredith introduces himself and his friend in the first chapter. I am a little, inconspicuous person of forty-five years old, with a high forehead, slate-coloured eyes, commonplace, clean-shorn face and rather high shoulders. I am unmarried; my health is excellent...observation rather than activity was always my strong suit... as for Forbes, he is a shrewd officer with a practical outlook upon life...his opinion of my intelligence is his weak spot.
Meredith is called out one rough night in early October to view the body of a banjo man, John Fleming, missing for six weeks - he had been found, with an unopened letter in the breast pocket of his jacket. It was from his girlfriend Milly, posted whilst on a yachting cruise in the Mediterranean. She was a Miss Mildred Abbot, maid to Lord Fordham's wife. The tragedy was that Fleming appeared to have committed suicide thinking she had disowned him (the envelope had his landlady's writing not Milly's on it!) Meredith conducted a private examination of the body in the mortuary and intuitively felt the body was not Fleming's. Neither had he drowned, as the clothes had never been in the sea at all. The dead man was to my mind unquestionably older. A further visit to the mortuary by Meredith proves there was not a drop of water in the dead man's lungs AND that he had been poisoned. His hypothesis is that Fleming confronted a fellowman - either dead or alive - and changed places with him. "One smells murder", I began calmly. Meredith is sure Fleming will now link up with Milly, keeping his own existence secret. Meredith follows clue after clue: someone boarded a luggage train around the time of the death; he was seen booking a passenger train to London. Meredith visits the Fordhams in their mansion and is introduced to Thorne - Sir Max's factotum and valet and chief steward on their yacht Mignonette. A man to watch. Milly, however, has gone off by train to her 'brother'. Meredith's suspicion increases. And so it develops. The doctor travels to Ealing, to interview Fleming's landlady, who fortuitously (for the plot) receives a letter with money inside. Meredith recognises the handwriting as being Fleming's. Proof that the young man is alive.
Doggedly pursuing clues, Meredith discovers who the dead man was (a London Jew); interviews the widow and her friend; uncovers a story of blackmail and theft;' and, of course, the murderer. The ending is not totally a surprise, but quite neatly done.
The novel, like all the others I have been reading, is 'of its time'. The author clearly has a poor opinion of the lower class: what we English are now breeding in greatest abundance is rotten brains; and those inferior brains will be called to control the life of the country in the near future...Statesmanship has been prostituted to vote-catching under the absurdity of universal suffrage and all modern legislation is directed to support the unfit, so that intelligent, responsible people, over-taxed and over-governed shrink from the honourable obligations of family...any microcephalus idiot, or half-wit, can breed, and thousands on the very borderland of imbecility are breeding. Education does not reach these people and birth-control sighs after them in vain... 2025 anyone?!
And, near the end of the novel: Forbes and Meredith discuss the prospect of another War. "We can only hope we shall not win it," I said, "for another victory, under the present low-watermark British statesmanship, (it is a Labour Government in 1929-30) will mean national extermination. However, we need not dread another victory. The industrious bugs of Socialism are sucking the nation's life-blood pretty steadily now..." How very topical!
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