Crime Writer Margot Kinberg

An interesting post from Moira at Clothes in Books has got me thinking, as her posts always do. In the post, she discusses clubs as a setting for novels. In this case, it’s the old-fashioned sort of club with comfortable chairs, newspapers, discussions and debates, and sometimes cards. To belong to a club was at one time almost a social requirement, and many members would rather give up just about anything else than their club subscription. This sort of club can make for an effective setting for a crime novel. There are all sorts of relationships among the members, and each member has a private life and story. It’s little wonder, then, that we see clubs in crime fiction. Here are a few examples; I know you’ll think of more.

Fans of Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes stories will know that he has a brother, Mycroft, who isn’t nearly as ambitious and active as his younger brother is. Mycroft Holmes spends most of his time at the Diogenes Club, and rarely goes afield. In fact, he doesn’t see the point of going from place to place looking for clues, when most mysteries can be solved by deduction. Interestingly, he is, if anything, even more brilliant than Sherlock Holmes is, and more than once in the stories, he helps to solve a crime. He doesn’t even really have to travel to do it, either (although he does in The Greek Interpreter). Some might call Mycroft Holmes lazy, but he’s certainly no mental slouch, and he fits in well at the Diogenes.

In Dorothy L. Sayers’ The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club, we get an inside look at Lord Peter Wimsey’s club, the Bellona. In the novel, Wimsey investigates the death of fellow club member General Fentiman. At the same time, Wimsey is looking into the death of Fentiman’s sister, Lady Dormer, who has also died. And therein lies the problem. There’s a large family fortune at stake, and if Lady Dormer dies first, it goes to General Fentiman’s grandson. If Fentiman dies first, the fortune passes to Lady Dormer’s distant cousin, Ann Dorland. So, the timing of the deaths is important. At first, Fentiman’s death looks like a natural death, but when it comes out that he was poisoned, Wimsey looks more closely into the matter. Throughout the novel, there’s a strong sense of the club atmosphere.

Part of Anthony Berkeley’s The Poisoned Chocolates Case takes place in the club of Sir Eustace Pennefather. A chocolate company, Mason and Stone, has developed a new line of chocolates, and has sent complimentary boxes to an exclusive few people, including Sir Eustace, as an advertising strategy. Sir Eustace himself doesn’t eat chocolate, so while he’s at his club one day, he offers the candy to a fellow club member, Graham Bendix. For Bendix, it’s a welcome gift, since his wife Joan enjoys chocolate. Tragedy soon strikes, though. Joan Bendix suddenly dies by what turns out to be poison. Bendix himself is taken ill, but he survives. The case raises several questions. At what point were the chocolates poisoned? Who was/were the intended victim/s? And of course, who is responsible for the poisoning? Inspector Moseby investigates, but he doesn’t have any solid leads. So, he is invited to present the case at the Crimes Circle, a discussion group for those interested in crime. Each member of the group is then invited to propose a solution to the crime.

Agatha Christie’s Taken at the Flood begins at the Coronation Club, to which Major Porter, late of the Indian Army, proudly belongs. He’s reading a news item regarding the tragic death of wealthy Gordon Cloade, and he can’t resist discussing the matter with anyone who will listen. And Major Porter has a lot to say. Gordon Cloade had recently married a widow named Rosaleen Underhay, quite to his family’s shock. He didn’t take the time to change his will right away, and died in a bomb blast before he could do so. This means that Rosaleen will inherit his fortune. And that means that Cloade’s sister and brothers and their families can’t rely on the financial support they’d been told to expect. While Porter is telling the story, most people at the club are doing their best to ignore him, hoping he’ll stop talking. But Hercule Poirot, who’s there as the guest of another member, takes a polite interest. The incident at the club comes back to haunt Poirot two years later, when he is drawn into the Cloade family dispute about the money. It all leads to tragedy, and Poirot has a complicated case to unravel.

And then there’s H.R.F. Keating’s Inspector Ghote’s First Case. This is the prequel to his highly successful series featuring Ganesh Ghote of the Bombay police force. Ghote has just been promoted to Inspector and is determined to do a good job and merit his new appointment. Very shortly after his promotion, Ghote is summoned to the office of Sir Rustom Engineer, Head of the Crime Branch for Bombay’s police force. Sir Ruston tells Ghote that he’s been seconded to the town of Mahableshwar, several hours from Bombay, to look into what seems to be a case of suicide. A friend of Sir Ruston’s, Robert Dawkins, has recently lost his wife Iris to what the police say is suicide, and Dawkins wants to know why she took her own life. Ghote is reluctant to leave his wife Protima, as she is heavily pregnant. But he does as he’s told and heads north to Mahableshwar. Soon after he starts looking into the matter, Ghote begins to suspect that this isn’t a case of suicide, but of murder. As he searches for the killer, Ghote gets to know the people in Dawkins’ household, as well as the other members of Dawkins’ club. And in fact, that club and the people in it turn out to be very important in the case.

There are plenty of other novels, too, that involve this sort of exclusive club (right, fans of Rex Stout’s Gambit?). It’s not hard to see why. They’re full of atmosphere, they have a distinctive culture, and there are all sorts of possibilities. Thanks, Moira, for the inspiration. Now, folks, treat yourself and visit Moira’s excellent blog. It’s full of top-class reviews and interesting discussion about clothes and popular culture in fiction.

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Larry Addison’s Members Only.