Dishonoured Bones (1954) by John Trench

John Trench has been on the periphery of my classic-crime-authors-I-still-need-to-try radar for quite a while. His appearance in the Green Penguin Crime series helped him to get on to my radar in the first place, but it was only recently that I finally stumbled upon a copy in a second hand bookshop.

Trench wrote two other definite mysteries: Docken Dead (1953) and What Rough Beast (1957). He wrote other books after these ones, but they do not appear to be mysteries. More information on this matter can be found on Classic Crime Fiction website. Dishonoured Bones was adapted for TV in 1964, being episode 6 of the first season of the Detective series.

It was interesting returning to the archaeological milieu as it has been some time since I have encountered it in my mystery fiction reading. Some previous archaeological mysteries I have read are: ‘The Adventure of the Egyptian Tomb’ (1923) by Agatha Christie, Scarweather (1934) by Anthony Rolls, Murder in Mesopotamia (1936) by Christie, Blood from a Stone (1945) by Ruth Sawtell Wallis and The Death Season (2015) by Kate Ellis. Having now read Trench’s book, I think the archaeological component is more insignificant in comparison to these other examples, as its main function is to set up the story and deliver up the corpse. Nevertheless, the wider setting of the book has a consistent role in the plot’s action and according to the author’s note, the Isle of Albany, which is the main setting of the book, is based on the Isle of Purbeck in Dorset.

Synopsis

‘Archaeologists expect to unearth bones, not bodies, and when Martin Cotterell finds the corpse of motor-car millionaire Lord Garnish in a ‘tump’ on the south coast of England, he involves himself in a sequence of events that proves itself dangerous, and at times very nearly fatal. At first, finding the murderer seems the same as finding the husband of Garnish’s glossy mistress, Mrs Vitrey. But the peer has been unloved by too many people for it to be as simple as that, and the story proves itself to be as exciting, subtle, and twisty as the chase at the end of the book.’

Overall Thoughts

Perhaps a little unexpectedly, this book does not commence with an archaeological setting but instead the opening scene is more Jane Austen-esque with its village church and community focus:

‘Mrs Revel said, ‘Oh look!’ and eighty or so people shifting their backsides on hard chairs in Penterne church hall fell expectantly silent. They all knew Mrs Revel.

General Revel said, ‘Quiet, Molly.’

Charlotte Revel thought, perhaps if I drop my bag on the floor and bend down to pick it up, it won’t be so awful when Mother says whatever she’s going to say. Charlotte was nineteen.’

The Revels are an important family within the overall plot and in a more light-hearted 1930s mystery I imagine their comedic value would have been capitalised upon more.

Yet even this scene has its focus shift within a matter of pages and the reader learns about how the local community and quarry industry is under threat because an oil extraction company has been given permission to use an open cast technique or “dragging” to extract oil from the local shale. This will have destructive effects for the local environment but also for the local quarry which so many depend upon for their livelihood. Compensation is deemed unlikely, due to various legal points, and it also seems like Lord Garnish might be involved in the company gaining the rights, as it is his land which will be worked upon first. Is this why Lord Garnish disappear in France 9 days ago? Did he not want to face the music?  There is only one week to go until the dragging begins and some locals say they will take matters into their own hands. In this respect the story operates as an environmental mystery and the oil company certainly provides a hefty motive for murder. Although reflecting on the whole book, whilst the descriptions revel in the glories of nature and depict well the threat they are under, the characters themselves probably seem more concerned by the danger the dragging has for the quarry.

These descriptions are very good though and have high impact without being overly wordy:

‘They stopped and looked up at the bumpy crest of Chapman’s Barrows. The skeleton job of the great drag-line stuck up over the skyline like the dorsal fin of a shark […] It [the crane involved in the drag-line] was surrounded by its own little area of devastation, of smashed grass and churned-up earth and broken walls, a brutish promise of the ruin to come […] But when it had to move it would put down two great feet and lurch forward, turntable and all, like a legless man on short crutches. Perhaps it was this, that the thing walked, that made it so monstrously menacing.’

Imagery which fires the imagination and encourages you to picture the scene is doing its job well and the drag-line becomes a potent symbol for the danger the oil company poses to the community and the landscape.

As mentioned above, Martin Cotterel is the young archaeologist who is leading the team digging on Lord Garnish’s land ahead of the dragging, and he is also the character who acts as the amateur sleuth. He is a friendly and nice character, which is interesting and pleasant for the reader to be around. He seems to have lost a hand, I am guessing in WW2, and he has an artificial one made of aluminium. Whilst some of Trench’s character are a bit of a pain (yes, I am looking at you Charlotte) others were more engaging. For example, there is Mr Cardmaker, a pompous senior archaeologist, who is deemed too old to be doing fieldwork. However, he goes beyond the stuffy snob stereotypes and is portrayed with greater nuance than you might expect, and I liked how he is able to critique his less charitable thoughts and feel shame for some of his ill-advised actions. It is a shame that we do not get to see more of him.

I think the discovery of the body in the dig site is well done and I felt it perhaps reflected how crime fiction changed in the way it described such scenes after WW2:

‘He sat down on the edge of the trench and Cotterell saw what it was that the pick had gone right into. There was a hiss of sharply drawn breath at Cotterell’s side, and he found Mr Cardmaker there, reaching out a shaky hand to grip his arm. And looking at the shaken faces around him Mr Cardmaker saw the moment as one for a gesture, a manifesto of age’s superior self-possession.

“So we have found a secondary internment after all,” he said; and realised bitterly and much too late how far short flippancy fell of the effect he had intended.’

To me, it feels like there is a little more brutality in the depiction, emphasised by the off-colour comment that Mr Cardmaker makes and regrets. Humour no longer seems to work in this situation, in the way it might have been used in some interwar crime fiction. This bleaker postwar response to death can also be found later in the story in a hospital scene:

“What happened to the chauffeur? Did he die?”

“Now don’t you go worrying about people dying. Lay down, do.”

The man was dead, then. Dud the terror of death prowl unexorcised in hospitals too? Even here, where it was a familiar enemy, did they deny it as they did outside since they threw away the things that made death tolerable? So that it became mean and meaningless as well as terrible, and the cold obstruction and the rotting were brought forward into life; for who is going to bestir himself in an antechamber to extinction?’

I find there is something very stark and matter of fact in the narrative’s tone.

Given where the body is found, several questions arise in the minds of the reader and the characters: Why was the body put there? Why did the killer want the body found so soon? A further violent death adds more drama to the start of the book, and it makes you wonder how it connects to the body that has previously been found. There is one character set up as a prime suspect, as the blurb suggests, but we all know that it won’t be them and later the brother of Lord Garnish turns up with amnesia – another event the reader will no doubt treat with suspicion.

Initially, Martin Cotterell is a bit reluctant to get involved in any amateur sleuthing, but this changes when he loses someone from his own team and also when he starts having near death experiences. This taps into his incurable curiosity as he wonders why he is being targeted. Some of the best action sequences of the book feature Martin and/or the underground mines of the local quarry. There is a truly frightening sequence in which Martin has his matches removed from his hand in a dark quarry passageway and his only guide is taken by the hand away from him. We get wonderfully tense moments such as:

‘Reaching round the next corner they brushed the tips of other fingers. He said softly, ‘Miss Revel,’ and touched the back of the other hand.

It was not a woman’s hand.’

Yet the chapter then switches attention to other characters, and you are left on tenterhooks as to what danger Martin might be in. These chapter contrasts are very effective in promoting tension. Suffice to say Martin’s sleuthing style has a high peril factor and after one escapade his injuries draw him out of the investigation for a long time. This is unfortunate as in his place we get stuck with Charlotte and another character, who dash off to follow up a clue – a dash which makes the police think they’ve gone on the run. The chase that ensues takes up a big chunk of the remaining novel and despite the excitement promised in the blurb – the chase is quite tiresome, lacking in the tension we know the writer can instil, and it is abundantly clear to the reader who the killer is and what a Grade A wally Charlotte is. There is a great final showdown, which uses its setting well, but the chase sequence prior to it is a waste of page space. I was left wondering if the chase was used to pad out a plot which was not big enough to stick to a more traditional detective story structure. So all in all this mystery started out well and developed in some interesting directions, but was let down by its second half.

Rating: 3.5/5

P. S. This review would be incomplete if I did not mention the physical descriptions of the drag-line night watchman, as the mind boggles as to what he looked like! Firstly, it is said that he had ‘a face that looked as though it had been modelled in cold porridge.’ We are then told that ‘Mr Mulraney’s eyes looked much like fertilised eggs a week old.’ We then learn the horrifying detail that because he always had weak eyes his mum had bathed them daily with Guinness! Is it just me whose eyes feel all funny picturing that? I can’t think the Guinness did his eyes much good – or am I missing something? Finally, when asked by a policeman if he had walked to investigate something, Mr Mulraney replies:

 “‘Walk? Wiv me legs? You take a dekko at me legs, mate. Oo, ‘orrible, they are.”

They were.

“And what did your mum do about your legs?” asked Cotterell.

“Potato peelings,” said Mr Mulraney, through the cavernous gurglings of his bronchial passages.’

It is those two words: ‘they were’ which make this scene oddly humorous. And also, potato peelings? What were they used for?