Death Sits Down to Dinner

I'm about 3/5 of the way through the fourth book in this mystery series: Death of an Unsung Hero

This was the first book I read. I got about 1/3 of the way into it. Then I got bored. I picked up Death Sits Down to Dinner later, completely by chance. The fact that Mr. Churchill was a character in it made me give it a try. But I didn't immediately realize that it was another in the series of books. But because this one was readable, I went back and am trying to finish this other one.

I've watched my share of Upstairs/Downstairs, Downton Abbey, and Masterpiece Theatre. I think I could have been a good butler...or at least a footman. I've absorbed the details involved in service over the years. But one detail I wasn't aware of pertains to the Mrs. Jackson character who is the housekeeper of Lord and Lady Montfort.

Mrs. Jackson isn't married. But because of her status as the housekeeper, she is given the honorary title of "Mrs." I'd never run into that before.

Jackson herself is intelligent but cool, even sexless. She seems to have every intention of devoting herself to service and forgoing anything as messy or distracting as a relationship. But in Death Sits Down to Dinner (book 2), we do see the threads of a relationship possibly blossoming for her. But in this fourth book, there is no mention of the young lad.

Basically in Death of an Unsung Hero the Great War is in full swing. Lady Montfort is running a cutting-edge medical home at (I think) one of her homes in the country. Mrs. Jackson has been requisitioned (perhaps officially via the medical corp) as top day-to-day operations officer. They treat shell-shock victims and others with psychological damage. Here's an overall from an Amazon reviewer:



And despite the obvious backing of the war department, they still face much opposition. Many view these soldiers as cowards or slackers. It's pretty harsh. But I'd say a fair, and certainly sympathetic, case is made for those who have been damaged mentally in the war. They've had much success getting men back to the front lines.

One reviewer says the soldiers were suffering form "PTSD." But that seems to me to be a modern buzzword without much meaning. It wasn't really "post" and it certainly wasn't "stress" they were suffering. I think only ignorant, and slightly oily, civilians need these terms to make themselves seem sympathetic. But unless you've been in the trenches with these guys, I think we should save our acronyms. They have faced hell and been overcome by it, at least to some extent. Many find their way back...only to return to the trenches again. Can't imagine.

Well, I found the same error as in the Ian Rutledge novels. The author tends to spend way too much time playing what-if. But I will say that there is more coherence to the Monfert novels in this regard. They do at least carefully eliminate one suspect at a time and make progress. The Rutledge novels tend to often spin in an eyes-glazed-over rotating repetition.

In Death of an Unsung Hero, we're down to perhaps two possible murderers (possibly working in tandem as well). But there are enough holes left that even this isn't known for sure.

Some marvelously brave writing here and there by Tessa Arlen as she notes (through the character of Mrs. Jackson) how snowflake-like many of the helper girls are at the hospital. Darn, she sounds like me at times in regards to their emotional narcissism. Jackson notes that city girls aren't at all prepared to handle what they need to do. And there is apparently some solid historical context referenced in the book. Apparently many of the city girls went completely goo-goo during the war at the mere sight of a man in a uniform. Apparently no small amount of a virtual wall had to be built between the soldiers and these vacuous women.

We see that reflected in real life. You would definitely want your country run by a 4-H girl rather than some over-delicate Progressive bubble-girl of a municipal mono-cultural swamp.

It sometimes doesn't take much to keep me going. Throw me a small bone. That's all I ask. And Mrs. Jackson has done that in this one.

They flesh out Harry much more in Death of an Unsung Hero. Harry, a flyer (of course), is injured and comes back home for some recuperation time. His mother worries about him because he drinks...a lot. And is bored. Just slightly surly as well.

In Death Sits Down to Dinner (the one with Churchill in it), we see the conflict erupt between Harry and his parents. Harry (apparently like a lot of elder sons of the nobility in his age) is bored by the thought of managing an estate and carrying on those traditions. He wants to fly. And this is in the era where flying (even outside of wartime) was very dangerous. Harry is also pals with his friend, Sopwith, who designs these things.

Interesting that in Death of a Dishonorable Gentleman that there isn't a lot of back-and-forth speculation of "who done it." That definitely got tiring in Death of an Unsung Hero but finally settled down a bit after the initial intensive sifting, trying to establish where everyone was, etc. In Death Sits Down to Dinner the same thing. It tends to be a bit much. It's better when a murder mystery has more dimensions to it.

In Death of a an Unsung Hero, we get into the changing of the times as daughter, Althea, is slutting around a bit with one of the soldiers in their care...at least as her mother sees it. It is not right that someone of her class go on an unchaperoned picnic with this guy, etc.

It's easy for anyone in our age to tut-tut and poo-poo such outmoded ideas. And yet I think there's a lot to be said for a parent being careful that her daughter doesn't slut around and get herself in trouble. It's what they used to call parenting.

Just a few pages left of an Death of an Unsung Hero. It got me thinking that it would probably be a marketable prospect to offer writers a service for how to end a novel. Maybe "Kung and Nelson Literary Consultants."

This was another one that got kind of dopey. You may or may not read this novel in the future so I won't give too much away. But basically they (Harry, Mother, and Mrs. Jackson) leave on a fast two-hour trip to talk to an ex-soldier in order tie up some loose ends. But they don't bother before they go to tell their daughter, Althea, that the man who has been giving her much attention is likely a ruthless murderer.

Okay. An oversight. Hmm. Strange for a mother who obsesses over a son who wants to fly planes. When they come back from their fact-finding trip, the harvest festival is in full swing, They all immediately look for Althea and the suspect, afraid for her life.

They soon are told that Althea and the suspect are off together in the barn looking at a horse. No problem. The man shouldn't be a danger to anyone because he means to be a member of polite society, after all. So they go to the barn. The mother say, "Come, Althea. So-and-so wants you to sing a song with them." No prob. No reason for the murder to suspect a thing. But then the writer (mirroring one of the dumb girls she has criticized) stuffs completely stupid and artificial words into Althea's mouth (Oh...you just got back from finding out who the murderer is? Hope you had a nice trip to Cheltenham) so that now the murderer (who is from Cheltenham) is in no doubt that he has been found out. A hostage-taking quickly ensues and I'm rooting for this guy to dispatch Althea. That will teach her.

Dreadfully clumsy writing at the end, far worse than I've indicated. But that is hardly unusual these days. I'm amazed that so many otherwise satisfactory writers have such a hard time with endings.

I finished "Death of a Dishonorable Gentleman" last night and have the following to report.  Once the reader gets past the first 50-60 pages of "setting the atmosphere" which moves at a snail's pace due to too many adjectives, the book became very good. 

The story revolves around the murder of Teddy Mallory, nephew of Lord and Lady Montfort.  Teddy is a scoundrel and, by the end of the book, the only wonder is that he had not been murdered at an earlier date. 

The murder is bad enough, but it occurred during the night of Lady Montfort's yearly ball, which was attended by some of the most prominent families of Great Britain.  

The local Head Constable takes charge, but has to bring in Scotland Yard in the form of Chief Inspector Ewan, who is a clod. 

While the police ruffle aristocratic feathers by questioning everyone who happened to be in the house the day of the murder, both up--and-down stairs, Lady Montfort, and Mrs. Jackson the housekeeper, start looking into the case. 

In the end, these two solve the murder and help with the solution to some other crimes which have taken place nearby. 

Lord Montfort takes the responsibility of confronting the murderer. He points out that no matter how justified the murder might have been, it was against the law. At this end of this encounter, the author uses a little history to express how how deeply the old landed families were connected to the development of common law in England. She writes, in my opinion, the best lines in the book. 

"The first Baron of Mountsford had been present at the signing of  Magna Carta, which had led to the rule of constitutional law in England. Laws had been written and refined over the centuries, laws that people of Lord Montfort's education and background had worked hard to instill and maintain. Without law, without order, England would just be France. 

It is hard to beat that last sentence. 

There's no spoiler here for Mr. Flu because he has finished the book. We'll title this spoiler:

Teddy Needed a Good Whoopin'

In one or both of the books that I've read, it mentions that the thrust of the first investigation was to absolve Harry of a murder. And if he had killed cousin Teddy, they could have wrapped up the book right there. Instead of a murder investigation there would be been a ribbon-cutting ceremony. Teddy needed a good killing.

The only point that strains credulity is that the family had connections with their nephew/cousin, even into adulthood. We'll allow a little literary license. But it seems certain that the family would have distanced themselves from this malignant character years ago...instead of inviting him to a garden party.

Even Clementine admitted:



A mother who recognized this aspect in Teddy would never have let her anywhere near her children while they were growing up, nephew or no nephew.

But there is obviously more to the story...and maybe more deaths ahead. But few will mourn the loss of Teddy.

Harry later tells his mother:



Well, another sign that even Harry knew how malignant Teddy was. This could not have been much of a family secret.



You see, that is the essence of good writing. There should have been a passage spoken (or thought) by Clementine that laid out exactly what you wrote. (That is, indeed, what writing is supposed to be about, to elucidate a character.) It would have given some context and believability to the Teddy character. He just seemed way too skimmed-over, at least in the early part of the book. I didn't for once believe that this highly upright upper-crust family would have so easily harbored a sociopath.

Maybe something like that. Just two paragraphs could explain a lot.

There once was a fellow named Teddy
For Iyntwood house he was not ready
The Lord lived in a fog
About his cruelty to dogs
For a gibbet our Teddy was heading