Beef vs. Deene: Comparing Leo Bruce’s Two Mystery Series

This month’s choice for book group, was a re-read for me, taking me back to the very beginning of the Sergeant Beef series: Case for Three Detectives (1936). It is arguably Leo Bruce’s best-known work and a while back I offered my ranked list for this series. You’ll have to read it to find out where Case for Three Detectives placed (and no it wasn’t at the bottom!).

My reading of Bruce’s second series starring amateur sleuth Carolus Deene has been more limited. Prior to this post I had only read one, Death of a Commuter (1967) and it didn’t overly grab me or make me keen to track down more. However, with my re-read of Case for Three Detectives coming up, I decided to give the Deene series another go, and I then had the further idea of comparing the two books together. The Deene title I went for was A Bone and a Hank of Hair (1961). This was the ninth out of the twenty-three-book series, which Bruce began publishing in 1955. I am curious as to whether the title of this book is alluding to Rudyard Kipling’s ‘The Vampire’, a poem which speaks of a female vampire who lures a man (referred to as ‘a fool’ in the poem) into a relationship. Jen at The Reader writes:

‘Yet this particular vampire may be seen in a number of ways. Is she utterly manipulative, empty of concern for her willing victim? Is it that she is strong and not troubled by matters of emotion like her human counterparts? Or perhaps she is not to blame for the things she does not know or understand, not asking to be idolised by a lovelorn male.’

I only mention this in a little more detail, as the meaning of this poem (with the female as potentially more predatory) seems intriguingly jarring, on first glance, with the crime plot of A Bone and a Hank of Hair, in which it is assumed a man has murdered his wife.

Synopsis for Case for Three Detectives

‘Possibly the most unusual mystery ever written. A murder is committed, behind closed doors, in bizarre circumstances. Three amateur detectives take the case: Lord Simon Plimsoll, Monsieur Amer Picon, and Monsignor Smith (in whom discerning readers will note likeness to some familiar literary figures). Each arrives at his own brilliant solution, startling in its originality, ironclad in its logic. Meanwhile Sergeant Beef sits contemptuously in the background. “But, ” says Sergeant Beef, “I know who done it!”’

Synopsis for A Bone and a Hank of Hair

‘Carolus Deene, history master at Queen’s School, Newminster, manages on the side to dabble in the art of gentlemanly detective work. In Leo Bruce’s beloved A Bone and a Hank of Hair, Deene is approached by Mrs. Chalk, who is convinced her heiress cousin has been murdered. The suspect is, of course, Mr. Rathbone, the lady’s wily widower. On the way to the truth, Deene encounters a host of friendly characters and oafish constabulary, leading readers in a delightful romp through the English landscape.’

My selection of A Bone and a Hank of Hair was not the result of extensive research. It was more a case of happening to come across a cheap copy of it during my online book hunting. So, it was a happy accident that both mysteries feature a murdered wife or suspected murdered wife as their primary victim. Furthermore, wills and related finances appear in both stories as a potential motive for murder.

Nevertheless, there are some significant differences of style between the novels. For instance, the plot of Case for Three Detectives is concerned with investigating a clear case of murder. Moreover, the overriding style is one of parody and therefore includes a strong vein of metafictional comment. This is evidenced in the first couple of chapters when one of the house party guests, Alec Norris, a literary novelist, condemns detective fiction:

“It’s all so artificial […] So unrelated to life. You, all of you, know these literary murders. Suddenly, in the middle of a party – like this one, perhaps – someone is found dead in the adjoining room. By the trickery of the novelist all the guests and half the staff are suspected. Then down comes the wonderful detective who neatly proves that it was in fact the only person you never suspected at all.”

He continues criticising the genre, saying that writing detective stories:

“[…] has become a mere game – fox and hounds between readers and novelist. Only readers are getting clever nowadays. They don’t suspect the obvious people, as they used to. But if the novelist has a character who wasn’t at all the sort of person to have done it, they may just wonder by analogy.”

Norris goes on to mention how the types of people they all represent e.g. lawyer, host, vicar, butler etc. have ‘been overworked’ in mystery fiction as the guilty party.

In contrast metafiction is not really part of the DNA of A Bone and a Hank of Hair. In addition, the narrative does not commence with a definite murder for Deene to solve. To begin with he has to define what the mystery is, and this involves a cold case element, as Carolus has to dig through the suspected killer’s past to uncover further relationships and past employment and accommodation history.

The Case for Three Detectives is written in the first person, with the story being told by Lionel Townsend, who will go on to become Sergeant Beef’s Watson chronicler. The reader does not have to wait long for a corpse to appear, with the murder being discovered at the end of chapter two. So, there is definitely a briskness to the opening of the mystery. Nevertheless, this does not prevent Townsend from deploying some introductory foreshadowing at the start of the book:

‘I cannot pretend that there was anything sinister in the atmosphere that evening. Nothing of the sort that is supposed to precede a crime. Nobody walked about looking furtive, no whispered quarrels were interrupted, no mysterious strangers lurked near the house. Although afterwards, as you may imagine, I went over the events of the day again and again in my mind, I could remember nothing which might have served as a warning, nothing at all extraordinary in anyone’s behaviour. […] we discussed crime over our cocktails. But we discussed it in general terms, and how could one have guessed that there was any relevance in the discussion? And I could not say for certain who had brought up the subject. Perhaps if I could have done so, if anyone could have done so, it would have helped us later to understand. For that discussion was relevant, appallingly relevant, in a very special sense. As you shall see.’

The engaging way Townsend speaks ensures this preamble does not derail the pace of the piece. Furthermore, the narrator directly engages with reader, letting them know that the discussion on crime, coming up in the story, is important and that they should pay attention. Naturally this taps into the reader’s inner armchair detective.

 A Bone and a Hank of Hair takes an alternative approach. The story is told in the third person and rather than throwing out hints of what is to come, the narrative commences with Mrs Chalk discussing her concerns about her cousin with Carolus Deene, a mutual friend having advised this course of action. Literally on the first page of the book Deene directly asks her what crime/situation she wants investigating:

“There isn’t the smallest doubt,” said the tall woman in black, “that my cousin has been murdered.”

“And the corpse?”

“Destroyed. Obliterated. Buried. Burnt. Anyhow, beyond discovery.”

 “Perhaps you know the identity of the murderer?” asked Carolus Deene innocently.

“Of course, I do. It was her husband. He has completely disappeared.”

I read this book after my re-read of Case for Three Detectives and the question which quickly popped into my head was: Is this opening too efficient? Does it tell me too succinctly what the case is? Unlike in Case for Three Detectives there are no pauses for amusing turns of phrase. It is rather businesslike, which is reflected in the small page count. This style can even be seen in passages where we have access to Carolus’ thoughts about other people:

‘He did not much like the woman in black. Apart from her downright manner there was something rather ugly in her character which he could not yet define. But he was interested.’

Moreover, in contrast to the Sergeant Beef mystery, the reader has to wait sometime until a dead body is uncovered.

Another difference which I noticed in A Bone and a Hank of Hair, which I had not anticipated, was a more negative perception and portrayal of people who live in the countryside e.g. not as intelligent and more slovenly than city dwellers (a feature which crops up in some later Nicholas Blake and Edmund Crispin novels). For example, when Mrs Chalk tells Deene about her visit to her cousin’s home she says:

“It was not many miles from the home of Barham who wrote the Ingoldsby Legends, and that was what it was like. One of the more horrible of them, I mean, concerned with the supernatural. The people looked like idiots; what there were of them.”

This differs with Case for Three Detectives. Granted it is not focused on a village, but a property in a rural area, yet I think the overall impression of local people is that they are generally hard working, good-natured and sensible. This is an impression which I think is channelled through Sergeant Beef who spends time socially with these people.

Style is not the only area in which these two books hugely vary, as their choice of central detective is another considerable area of divergence from one another, along with their attitudes towards the police. (I will be addressing differences in attitudes towards amateur sleuths later.) In Case for Three Detectives, Sergeant Beef is described by Townsend as ‘a big red-faced man of forty-eight or fifty, with straggling ginger moustache, and a look of rather beery benevolence.’ Beef doesn’t make the most professional of first impressions, having just arrived from the pub. Furthermore, he suggests he has nearly solved the murder after one look at the crime scene and that he sees no need to ring in for help from Scotland Yard. Whilst there is a significant degree of class bias against Sergent Beef from the more well-to-do suspects, he does not help his situation by his lack of communication over what his solution to the case is. I appreciate for the purposes of the plot he has to do this, but nevertheless, a reader unaware that this is the first in a series of novels, might assume that Beef exemplifies the stereotypical arrogant and incompetent policeman who the amateur sleuths usually have to prove wrong. One of the amateur detectives, Lord Plimsoll, (a parody of Lord Peter Wimsey) endorses this assumption himself when he tells Townsend: “The police are always certain, till it is proved that they’re wrong.”

Given this setup and the nature of the plot, opinions about the police are far from flattering in this book and these beliefs affect how characters act towards Sergeant Beef. The suspects, witnesses and amateur sleuths hinder his questioning and block him from taking part in the interviews conducted by the three investigators. When he does get a chance to ask his questions, they are seen as irrelevant and rude and at times remain unanswered. His perceived inferior status bleeds into how Townsend portrays him, such as when the interviews are taking place: ‘[…] and Sergeant Beef, scribbling industriously in his note-book, added an almost sordid touch.’

A Bone and a Hank of Hair deviates from Case for Three Detectives on both of these counts. Firstly, Carolus Deene is a well-respected middle-class teacher with a private income, teaching at a private school. Compared to Sergeant Beef, Deene is arguably more “socially acceptable” in the places he visits and to the people he contacts. Although interestingly, he is not more liked:

‘Already viewed critically by his colleagues, who resented his large private income, his Bentley Continental car, his too correct and varied clothes and his comfortable home, Carolus forced himself to join in all school activities rather than let it be thought that he felt indifferent or superior to them […]’

Perhaps because people do not find Sergeant Beef a social threat, nor feel inferior around him, he is easier for people to like.

Despite the Carolus Deene series being one which centres upon an amateur sleuth, within Deene’s fictional universe it is considered more proper for the police to solve murders, rather than respectable school teachers, a point I will go into more fully shortly. Consequently, unlike in Case for Three Detectives, the police are perceived here as being more component by the majority of characters. Yet it is interesting to note that the police are far from infallible in A Bone and a Hank of Hair, as during a part of the investigation which takes place in Cornwall, they arrest the wrong man.

Due to the lack of a corpse, the police are not interested at the start of the book into tracking down Rathbone Brigham (the husband of Mrs Chalk’s cousin). So, Deene needs to prove there is a case to investigate first. When they do get involved, the police are on the back foot, information-wise, yet remain rather distrustful of Carolus who they see as being ‘obstructive’. The descriptors of dogmatic and belligerent would also apply to the main policeman involved as well, as he gets fixated on one particular theory about the case, thereby fulfilling the stereotype that is assumed of Sergeant Beef in Case for Three Detectives.

As previously mentioned, the inhabitants of the Thurston household in Case for Three Detectives, have a much higher opinion of the amateur sleuths, than the local police. This enthusiasm for amateur sleuths and their skills is conveyed strongly through Townsend’s narration. He sees the three investigators, Lord Plimsoll, Amer Picon and Monsignor Smith, as superior to ordinary folk and the police, when it comes to solving crime, remarking that:

‘But they were aware of things at which we could not guess, they asked questions that we did not understand, they carried the fear of the unknown in their faces and in their words.’

Furthermore, when observing Lord Simon Plimsoll at the work he tells the reader:

‘But I liked him, because from the moment he arrived at that house the somewhat macabre atmosphere of the previous evening was dissipated. His cheerful and inquisitive nature seemed to discourage any morbid dwelling on the horror of Mary Thurston’s death, and to induce everyone, whether bereaved or guilty, into a pleasant and eager state of curiosity.’

This passage also illustrates how amateur sleuthing as an activity is seen more positively in this book and as a natural response to being in the vicinity of a murder. The fact this story is a parody of a detective story, with its tongue firmly inside its cheek, makes this viewpoint more convincing:

‘I had learnt that after a murder it is quite proper and conventional for everyone in the house to join the investigators in this entertaining game of hide-and-seek which seemed wholly to absorb us. It was not extraordinary for there to be three total strangers questioning the servants, or for the police to be treated with smiling patronage, or for the corpse to be pulled about by anyone who was curious to know how to it had become a corpse. But when I thought of the man to whom the tragedy would be something more than an entrancing problem for talented investigators, I really wondered how these queer customs had arisen.’

As the investigations of the three investigators progress, I think it is fair to say that Lionel Townsend succumbs to ‘detective fever’ as Wilkie Collins would describe it in The Moonstone (1868). This is evidenced in the way Lionel’s desire to be considerate to Mary Thurston’s widow, lessens as his desire to be a part of solving Mary’s murder increases. For example, after Mary’s widow is questioned, he tells the reader:

‘When Dr Thurston had left us the atmosphere of constraint which had been noticeable in his presence was at once dissipated, and everyone seemed to return with some relief to the excitement of the chase. Bereavement, on these occasions, as I have often noticed, is a bore; detection is what matters.’

Interestingly, I would say that in A Bone and a Hank of Hair, consideration for the presumed victim’s husband starts off very low, but arguably increases within Deene at least, as he learns more about his situation.

Whilst amateur sleuthing is encouraged in a Case for Three Detectives, the same cannot be said for A Bone and a Hank of Hair. Carolus Deene faces opprobrium from more than one source because of his amateur sleuthing, such as from his housekeeper, who at one point in the story plans to leave his employment when she realises he has embroiled himself in yet another murder case. To prevent her leaving, Deene has to get the Scotland Yard officer to pretend he was visiting for another reason. The housekeeper’s negative stance on sleuthing comes from anxiety over what it will do for her reputation and that of her husband. So, it is not surprising that her entry into the narrative is described in the following manner:

‘It was her aim, too frequently frustrated, to prevent her employer from involving himself in what she called “those nasty murder cases”, and as Carolus saw the expression on her small dried bespectacled face he knew that she had guessed or overheard enough to see in the visitor a portent of dangers to come.’

Someone else who is not pleased about Deene investigating murder is his headmaster. Near the beginning of this mystery, the headmaster holds a Christmas party and during this event he expresses relief that the matter Deene has been asked to investigate, is only one concerning a missing person:

‘There is no squalid story of murder which might bring your name and that of the school into disrepute. There are no corpses here, Deene, such as too often seem to attract your interest. Here is only a mystery, a deep mystery certainly, but not one whose solution calls for dark and undesirable activities on your part.’

Alas for the headmaster, the case does not turn out the way he was hoping.

The way these two mysteries diverge in style also leads to differences in how their investigations are structured. In Case for Three Detectives, each parodied detective begins their investigation by conducting a targeted exploration of a specific part of the house or surrounding area, with minimal conversation with suspects/witnesses. Lionel describes this activity as a ‘bizarre form of treasure-hunt’. After this, the three detectives are present for a block of interviews with the suspects. Lord Plimsoll and Amer Picon take the lead with the questioning. A further round of independent sleuthing occurs next, which draws out a particular plot point, which goes into the making of their final solutions.

Since there is no doubt that a murder has taken place, in the present day of the book, the interviewing experience for the suspects is more stressful. This stress is commented upon by Lionel:

‘I was learning something about the effect of a crime on people, which I had never fully realised from merely reading about murder. it was the quite unexpected effect which suspicion, cross-examination, and the presence of skilled detectives, had on everyone concerned. These things had already broken down the preposterously theatrical manner of Stall, the butler, had made Fellowes, usually a cheerful young man, growl monosyllables in a threatening sort of way […] But I was still not prepared for the changes in my fellow-guests, least of all those in David Strickland.’

This contrasts to A Bone and a Hank of Hair, as if a crime has occurred then it is located in the past. Therefore, most of the people questioned are not presumed to be guilty and are less pressured as witnesses. Moreover, the stress of being involved in that case is centred on Rathbone Brigham. Conversely, in Case for Three Detectives, the stress is more widespread among the characters:

‘Looking back on the whole gruesome business, I think that the worst part of it was this period in which we three, who were neither investigators nor suspects, were left in an unpleasant state of doubt, not knowing whom to suspect. Unless one is naturally malicious it is horrible to think of the people round one as potential murderers.’

Although Mrs Chalk directly and succinctly fills CarolusDeene in, on what she thinks has happened to her cousin, the case itself is still ill-defined and as a consequence Deene starts off his investigation by renting the property Anne and Rathbone Brigham were known to have lived at, to verify the information from Mrs Chalk and to see what traces he can pick up there of the missing couple. There is a lack of body to examine, which reduces the number of clues and clue types. Carolus is very much working in isolation and in the first third of book at least, little is found out, and it often felt repeated. The case early on assumes a potential “Brides in the Bath” alluding structure and as such this shapes the nature of the plot. This entails Deene tracing Rathbone’s life story, which I have to admit was not that scintillating. Carolus’ investigation does not necessitate much interaction with the police until nearer the end. I think the lack of a sidekick for Carolus Deene in this story, diminished the energy of the piece and it did feel quite flat at times. This differs with Case for Three Detectives with Lionel Townsend fulfilling the sidekick role. His voice makes the investigation feel more personal, as he doesn’t just report what happened, but he also adds his own commentary about those events.

In true classic crime fashion, the solution for the murder in Case for Three Detectives is revealed in a library to all relevant parties. Constrictions of the parody style mean that certain pieces of information are withheld until the end, so Beef can have his moment to shine. But I think Bruce gets away with it, as there are opportunities where the three investigators could have explored the right clues, and they could have talked with Beef more.

Meanwhile in A Bone and a Hank of Hair, the solution reveal location has gone more down market, with Deene meeting the police and a couple of other characters, including the headmaster, in a pub. This is not a full gathering of the relevant people involved and the police come to the meeting with suspicion as to whetherDeene has really solved the case. I did work out most of the solution to this one, as there are not many variants you can produce with the “Brides in the Bath” template. As a mystery, for me, it just lacked the zest and energy of the Sergeant Beef books, a point which this comparison exercise has reinforced.

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Giving a series another go doesn’t always radically change your opinion of it, as was the case here, but I do think that I at least know more clearly why I love the Sergeant Beef mysteries much more than the Carolus Deene ones. And that in and of itself can be useful – for me at any rate!