

The third Lord Peter Wimsey novel,
Unnatural Death, was published in 1927 and is set in the spring and early summer of that year. For me, it has long been the novel about which I recall the fewest details. Ian Carmichael starred in a radio adaptation of the story, but the BBC never made it for television. Since two of my three Sayers rereads were done in conjunction with a now-defunct web page about the TV adaptions, I believe I've only read this book twice before. I'd forgotten how much of the story revolves around gossip and how poisonous talk can undermine reputations.
In fact, the story begins with a sequence which has stood stronger than the rest of the book in my memory. It is such an unusual sequence, and so unlike contemporary social etiquette, that it has always felt very strange to me. The story opens as LPW and Insp. Parker are enjoying a late dinner and discussing crime. Their story is overheard by a fellow who apologizes for his rudeness but can't help but agree with them. He tells the lengthy story of how his small medical practice in a village in Hampshire was forced to close because of nasty rumors along the "devil's radio" about his poor treatment of the elderly Miss Dawson, who suddenly passed away under his care. While she was a cancer patient, and her end was inevitable, she died several months before she was expected to. Post mortems showed nothing untoward, and the death was chalked up to heart failure.
The eavesdropping doctor only relates about half of his story before LPW suggests that, as the restaurant is closing, they return to his flat for a glass of port to hear the end of it. Here's what surprised me: they don't introduce themselves or share their names. The doctor deduces that his host must be the famous Lord Peter Wimsey, but he declines to give his own name or details out of fears he his violating the confidentiality of his patients, and just wants to thank LPW for his hospitality and port, and chance to tell his tale of poor fortune, but no more. LPW and Parker are intrigued and want to look into this case, suspecting foul play, but the doctor draws in and doesn't wish for any further disturbances of that community, and any worse slurs on his professional reputation. This strikes me as so unusual, that anybody would share a taxi and join two strangers for a glass of port without learning their names, or that LPW would ask a complete stranger up for a drink without learning who he is. Things were different in the 1920s.
Of course, LPW has no intention of keeping out of it, and we quickly meet one of his employees, the remarkable Miss Alexandra Climpson, a spinster whom LPW uses to make discreet enquiries. Within a week, having tracked down the deceased through death certificates, Miss Climpson is dispatched to the village, where she pretends to be considering a move, and gets the scoop on the late Miss Dawson, her quick-tempered niece Mary Whittaker, and the unfortunate Dr. Carr, who, people say in his absence, nobody really liked anyway.
One other talking point that I wished to note is about the first murder in the narrative. LPW and Parker place an advertisement in several papers, attempting to trace Bertha Gotobed, a servant who had been employed by Miss Dawson while she was under Dr. Carr's care, and who was dismissed from service. LPW, in his motormouthed way, pishposhes the idea that any harm could befall Ms. Gotobed as a result of his ad, but she is later found murdered, with a copy of the ad in her purse. LPW's mood in this sequence makes for very difficult reading. In the war, he'd been responsible for ordering men to their deaths, and the thought that he's responsible for Ms. Gotobed's death is unbearable. He's all business as they look over the crime scene and find a tightly wrapped meal left nearby. Shortly before, he was the smug, silly clown that we know him to be, taking delight in showing up in Dr. Carr's office after tracing his identity. But now he is dark and bleak and leaves the police station as quickly as possible, an appropriate place to close this section of the book. More next week.
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