Whose Body?

By Simon Winchester and Mint Editions

A nobleman with a penchant for solving mysteries works to uncover the truth about a dead body found in the bathtub of an architect’s home. This is a peculiar case that requires the unique skills and perspective of Lord Peter Wimsey.

Lord Peter Wimsey is a war veteran forever changed by his time in the field. Despite his personal trauma, he spends his free time studying criminals and dissecting cases. When a dead body appears after a financier vanishes, many suspect an immediate connection. Yet, Lord Wimsey believes there is more to the story. Upon further investigation he discovers an insidious murder plot that includes notable figures in the community. Alongside Inspector Charles Parker, Lord Wimsey attempts to expose the truth.

Whose Body? is a thrilling introduction to the world Lord Peter Wimsey. It is a multilayered mystery filled with humor and intrigue. Author Dorothy L. Sayers’ compelling prose delivers unforgettable characters and a classic detective plot.

With an eye-catching new cover, and professionally typeset manuscript, this edition of Whose Body? is both modern and readable.

Since our inception in 2020, Mint Editions has kept sustainability and innovation at the forefront of our mission. Each and every Mint Edition title gets a fresh, professionally typeset manuscript and a dazzling new cover, all while maintaining the integrity of the original book.

With thousands of titles in our collection, we aim to spotlight diverse public domain works to help them find modern audiences. Mint Editions celebrates a breadth of literary works, curated from both canonical and overlooked classics from writers around the globe.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mint Editions
• Release date: Mar 24, 2021
• ISBN: 9781513279060

Simon Winchester

Simon Winchester is the acclaimed author of many books, including The Professor and the Madman, The Men Who United the States, The Map That Changed the World, The Man Who Loved China, A Crack in the Edge of the World, and Krakatoa, all of which were New York Times bestsellers and appeared on numerous best and notable lists. In 2006, Winchester was made an officer of the Order of the British Empire (OBE) by Her Majesty the Queen. He resides in western Massachusetts.

Book preview

I

Oh, damn! said Lord Peter Wimsey at Piccadilly Circus. Hi, driver!

The taxi man, irritated at receiving this appeal while negotiating the intricacies of turning into Lower Regent Street across the route of a 19 ’bus, a 38-B and a bicycle, bent an unwilling ear.

I’ve left the catalogue behind, said Lord Peter deprecatingly. Uncommonly careless of me. D’you mind puttin’ back to where we came from?

To the Savile Club, sir?

No—110 Piccadilly—just beyond—thank you.

Thought you was in a hurry, said the man, overcome with a sense of injury.

I’m afraid it’s an awkward place to turn in, said Lord Peter, answering the thought rather than the words. His long, amiable face looked as if it had generated spontaneously from his top hat, as white maggots breed from Gorgonzola.

The taxi, under the severe eye of a policeman, revolved by slow jerks, with a noise like the grinding of teeth.

The block of new, perfect and expensive flats in which Lord Peter dwelt upon the second floor, stood directly opposite the Green Park, in a spot for many years occupied by the skeleton of a frustrate commercial enterprise. As Lord Peter let himself in he heard his man’s voice in the library, uplifted in that throttled stridency peculiar to well-trained persons using the telephone.

I believe that’s his lordship just coming in again—if your Grace would kindly hold the line a moment.

What is it, Bunter?

Her Grace has just called up from Denver, my lord. I was just saying your lordship had gone to the sale when I heard your lordship’s latchkey.

Thanks, said Lord Peter; and you might find me my catalogue, would you? I think I must have left it in my bedroom, or on the desk.

He sat down to the telephone with an air of leisurely courtesy, as though it were an acquaintance dropped in for a chat.

Hullo, Mother—that you?

Oh, there you are, dear, replied the voice of the Dowager Duchess. I was afraid I’d just missed you.

Well, you had, as a matter of fact. I’d just started off to Brocklebury’s sale to pick up a book or two, but I had to come back for the catalogue. What’s up?

Such a quaint thing, said the Duchess. I thought I’d tell you. You know little Mr. Thipps?

Thipps? said Lord Peter. Thipps? Oh, yes, the little architect man who’s doing the church roof. Yes. What about him?

Mrs. Throgmorton’s just been in, in quite a state of mind.

Sorry, Mother, I can’t hear. Mrs. Who?

Throgmorton—Throgmorton—the vicar’s wife.

Oh, Throgmorton, yes?

Mr. Thipps rang them up this morning. It was his day to come down, you know.

Yes?

He rang them up to say he couldn’t. He was so upset, poor little man. He’d found a dead body in his bath.

Sorry, Mother, I can’t hear; found what, where?

A dead body, dear, in his bath.

What?—no, no, we haven’t finished. Please don’t cut us off. Hullo! Hullo! Is that you, Mother? Hullo!—Mother!—Oh, yes—sorry, the girl was trying to cut us off. What sort of body?

A dead man, dear, with nothing on but a pair of pince-nez. Mrs. Throgmorton positively blushed when she was telling me. I’m afraid people do get a little narrow-minded in country vicarages.

Well, it sounds a bit unusual. Was it anybody he knew?

No, dear, I don’t think so, but, of course, he couldn’t give her many details. She said he sounded quite distracted. He’s such a respectable little man—and having the police in the house and so on, really worried him.

Poor little Thipps! Uncommonly awkward for him. Let’s see, he lives in Battersea, doesn’t he?

Yes, dear; 59, Queen Caroline Mansions; opposite the Park. That big block just round the corner from the Hospital. I thought perhaps you’d like to run round and see him and ask if there’s anything we can do. I always thought him a nice little man.

Oh, quite, said Lord Peter, grinning at the telephone. The Duchess was always of the greatest assistance to his hobby of criminal investigation, though she never alluded to it, and maintained a polite fiction of its non-existence.

What time did it happen, Mother?

I think he found it early this morning, but, of course, he didn’t think of telling the Throgmortons just at first. She came up to me just before lunch—so tiresome, I had to ask her to stay. Fortunately, I was alone. I don’t mind being bored myself, but I hate having my guests bored.

Poor old Mother! Well, thanks awfully for tellin’ me. I think I’ll send Bunter to the sale and toddle round to Battersea now an’ try and console the poor little beast. So-long.

Good-bye, dear.

Bunter!

Yes, my lord.

Her Grace tells me that a respectable Battersea architect has discovered a dead man in his bath.

Indeed, my lord? That’s very gratifying.

Very, Bunter. Your choice of words is unerring. I wish Eton and Balliol had done as much for me. Have you found the catalogue?

Here it is, my lord.

Thanks. I am going to Battersea at once. I want you to attend the sale for me. Don’t lose time—I don’t want to miss the Folio Dante nor the de Voragine—here you are—see? ‘Golden Legend’—Wynkyn de Worde, 1493—got that?—and, I say, make a special effort for the Caxton folio of the ‘Four Sons of Aymon’—it’s the 1489 folio and unique. Look! I’ve marked the lots I want, and put my outside offer against each. Do your best for me. I shall be back to dinner.

Very good, my lord.

Take my cab and tell him to hurry. He may for you; he doesn’t like me very much. Can I, said Lord Peter, looking at himself in the eighteenth-century mirror over the mantelpiece, "can I have the heart to fluster the flustered Thipps further—that’s very difficult to say quickly—by appearing in a top-hat and frock-coat? I think not. Ten to one he will overlook my trousers and mistake me for the undertaker. A grey suit, I fancy, neat but not gaudy, with a hat to tone, suits my other self better. Exit the amateur of first editions; new motive introduced by solo bassoon; enter Sherlock Holmes, disguised as a walking gentleman. There goes Bunter. Invaluable fellow—never offers to do his job when you’ve told him to do somethin’ else. Hope he doesn’t miss the ‘Four Sons of Aymon.’ Still, there is another copy of that—in the Vatican. It might become available, you never know—if the Church of Rome went to pot or Switzerland invaded Italy—whereas a strange corpse doesn’t turn up in a suburban bathroom more than once in a lifetime—at least, I should think not—at any rate, the number of times it’s happened, with a pince-nez, might be counted on the fingers of one hand, I imagine. Dear me! it’s a dreadful mistake to ride two hobbies at once."

He had drifted across the passage into his bedroom, and was changing with a rapidity one might not have expected from a man of his mannerisms. He selected a dark-green tie to match his socks and tied it accurately without hesitation or the slightest compression of his lips; substituted a pair of brown shoes for his black ones, slipped a monocle into a breast pocket, and took up a beautiful Malacca walking-stick with a heavy silver knob.

That’s all, I think, he murmured to himself. Stay—I may as well have you—you may come in useful—one never knows. He added a flat silver matchbox to his equipment, glanced at his watch, and seeing that it was already a quarter to three, ran briskly downstairs, and, hailing a taxi, was carried to Battersea Park.

---

MR. ALFRED THIPPS WAS A SMALL, nervous man, whose flaxen hair was beginning to abandon the unequal struggle with destiny. One might say that his only really marked feature was a large bruise over the left eyebrow, which gave him a faintly dissipated air incongruous with the rest of his appearance. Almost in the same breath with his first greeting, he made a self-conscious apology for it, murmuring something about having run against the dining-room door in the dark. He was touched almost to tears by Lord Peter’s thoughtfulness and condescension in calling.

I’m sure it’s most kind of your lordship, he repeated for the dozenth time, rapidly blinking his weak little eyelids. I appreciate it very deeply, very deeply, indeed, and so would Mother, only she’s so deaf, I don’t like to trouble you with making her understand. It’s been very hard all day, he added, with the policemen in the house and all this commotion. It’s what Mother and me have never been used to, always living very retired, and it’s most distressing to a man of regular habits, my lord, and reely, I’m almost thankful Mother doesn’t understand, for I’m sure it would worry her terribly if she was to know about it. She was upset at first, but she’s made up some idea of her own about it now, and I’m sure it’s all for the best.

The old lady who sat knitting by the fire nodded grimly in response to a look from her son.

I always said as you ought to complain about that bath, Alfred, she said suddenly, in the high, piping voice peculiar to the deaf, and it’s to be ’oped the landlord’ll see about it now; not but what I think you might have managed without having the police in, but there! you always were one to make a fuss about a little thing, from chicken-pox up.

There now, said Mr. Thipps apologetically, you see how it is. Not but what it’s just as well she’s settled on that, because she understands we’ve locked up the bathroom and don’t try to go in there. But it’s been a terrible shock to me, sir—my lord, I should say, but there! my nerves are all to pieces. Such a thing has never ’appened—happened to me in all my born days. Such a state I was in this morning—I didn’t know if I was on my head or my heels—I reely didn’t, and my heart not being too strong, I hardly knew how to get out of that horrid room and telephone for the police. It’s affected me, sir, it’s affected me, it reely has—I couldn’t touch a bit of breakfast, nor lunch neither, and what with telephoning and putting off clients and interviewing people all morning, I’ve hardly known what to do with myself.

I’m sure it must have been uncommonly distressin’, said Lord Peter, sympathetically, especially comin’ like that before breakfast. Hate anything tiresome happenin’ before breakfast. Takes a man at such a confounded disadvantage, what?

That’s just it, that’s just it, said Mr. Thipps, eagerly. "When I saw that dreadful thing lying there in my bath, mother-naked, too, except for a pair of eyeglasses, I assure you, my lord, it regularly turned my stomach, if you’ll excuse the expression. I’m not very strong, sir, and I get that sinking feeling sometimes in the morning, and what with one thing and another I ’ad—had to send the girl for a stiff brandy, or I don’t know what mightn’t have happened. I felt so queer, though I’m anything but partial to spirits as a rule. Still, I make it a rule never to be without brandy in the house, in case of emergency, you know?"

Very wise of you, said Lord Peter, cheerfully. You’re a very far-seein’ man, Mr. Thipps. Wonderful what a little nip’ll do in case of need, and the less you’re used to it the more good it does you. Hope your girl is a sensible young woman, what? Nuisance to have women faintin’ and shriekin’ all over the place.

Oh, Gladys is a good girl, said Mr. Thipps, very reasonable indeed. She was shocked, of course; that’s very understandable. I was shocked myself, and it wouldn’t be proper in a young woman not to be shocked under the circumstances, but she is reely a helpful, energetic girl in a crisis, if you understand me. I consider myself very fortunate these days to have got a good, decent girl to do for me and Mother, even though she is a bit careless and forgetful about little things, but that’s only natural. She was very sorry indeed about having left the bathroom window open, she reely was, and though I was angry at first, seeing what’s come of it, it wasn’t anything to speak of, not in the ordinary way, as you might say. Girls will forget things, you know, my lord, and reely she was so distressed I didn’t like to say too much to her. All I said was: ‘It might have been burglars,’ I said, ‘remember that, next time you leave a window open all night; this time it was a dead man,’ I said, ‘and that’s unpleasant enough, but next time it might be burglars,’ I said, ‘and all of us murdered in our beds.’ But the police-inspector—Inspector Sugg, they called him, from the Yard—he was very sharp with her, poor girl. Quite frightened her, and made her think he suspected her of something, though what good a body could be to her, poor girl, I can’t imagine, and so I told the Inspector. He was quite rude to me, my lord—I may say I didn’t like his manner at all. ‘If you’ve got anything definite to accuse Gladys or me of, Inspector,’ I said to him, ‘bring it forward, that’s what you have to do,’ I said, ‘but I’ve yet to learn that you’re paid to be rude to a gentleman in his own ’ouse—house.’ Reely, said Mr. Thipps, growing quite pink on the top of his head, he regularly roused me, regularly roused me, my lord, and I’m a mild man as a rule.

Sugg all over, said Lord Peter. I know him. When he don’t know what else to say, he’s rude. Stands to reason you and the girl wouldn’t go collectin’ bodies. Who’d want to saddle himself with a body? Difficulty’s usually to get rid of ’em. Have you got rid of this one yet, by the way?

It’s still in the bathroom, said Mr. Thipps. Inspector Sugg said nothing was to be touched till his men came in to move it. I’m expecting them at any time. If it would interest your lordship to have a look at it—

Thanks awfully, said Lord Peter. I’d like to very much, if I’m not puttin’ you out.

Not at all, said Mr. Thipps. His manner as he led the way along the passage convinced Lord Peter of two things—first, that, gruesome as his exhibit was, he rejoiced in the importance it reflected upon himself and his flat, and secondly, that Inspector Sugg had forbidden him to exhibit it to anyone. The latter supposition was confirmed by the action of Mr. Thipps, who stopped to fetch the door-key from his bedroom, saying that the police had the other, but that he made it a rule to have two keys to every door, in case of accident.

The bathroom was in no way remarkable. It was long and narrow, the window being exactly over the head of the bath. The panes were of frosted glass; the frame wide enough to admit a man’s body. Lord Peter stepped rapidly across to it, opened it and looked out.

The flat was the top one of the building and situated about the middle of the block. The bathroom window looked out upon the back-yards of the flats, which were occupied by various small outbuildings, coal-holes, garages, and the like. Beyond these were the back gardens of a parallel line of houses. On the right rose the extensive edifice of St. Luke’s Hospital, Battersea, with its grounds, and, connected with it by a covered way, the residence of the famous surgeon, Sir Julian Freke, who directed the surgical side of the great new hospital, and was, in addition, known in Harley Street as a distinguished neurologist with a highly individual point of view.

This information was poured into Lord Peter’s ear at considerable length by Mr. Thipps, who seemed to feel that the neighbourhood of anybody so distinguished shed a kind of halo of glory over Queen Caroline Mansions.

We had him round here himself this morning, he said, about this horrid business. Inspector Sugg thought one of the young medical gentlemen at the hospital might have brought the corpse round for a joke, as you might say, they always having bodies in the dissecting-room. So Inspector Sugg went round to see Sir Julian this morning to ask if there was a body missing. He was very kind, was Sir Julian, very kind indeed, though he was at work when they got there, in the dissecting-room. He looked up the books to see that all the bodies were accounted for, and then very obligingly came round here to look at this—he indicated the bath—and said he was afraid he couldn’t help us—there was no corpse missing from the hospital, and this one didn’t answer to the description of any they’d had.

Nor to the description of any of the patients, I hope, suggested Lord Peter casually.

At this grisly hint Mr. Thipps turned pale.

I didn’t hear Inspector Sugg inquire, he said, with some agitation. What a very horrid thing that would be—God bless my soul, my lord, I never thought of it.

"Well, if they had missed a patient

Reviews for Whose Body?

[phoenixcomet · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Lord Peter Wimsey is back from WWI and has taken up detection as a hobby. When a man is found dead in a bathtub wearing only a pince nez, Lord Wimsey starts investigating.

[nordie_2 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

The stark naked body was lying in the tub. Not unusual for a proper bath, but highly irregular for murder -- especially with a pair of gold pince-nez deliberately perched before the sightless eyes. What's more, the face appeared to have been shaved after death. The police assumed that the victim was a prominent financier, but Lord Peter Wimsey, who dabbled in mystery detection as a hobby, knew better. In this, his first murder case, Lord Peter untangles the ghastly mystery of the corpse in the bath

Considering this is the first in the series, Wimsey (plus Bunter, plus the Duchess) are strong characters already, with Wimsey being presented with a dead body in a bathroom, whilst the police are investigating the disappearance of Sir Reuben Levy, a financier who disappeared whilst on a night out.

It's fairly evident the significance of the unidentified body, but it's just a case of proving it. The written confession unfortunately, comes late in the book, and is all but redundant, as the reader should have worked it all out for themselves by the time it comes out (and it's all done bar the shouting).

[jennybeast · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

On second reading (this time via audio book), I still find Wimsey an utter delight -- I had forgotten or not noticed his interest in early printed works, so that just added to the story for me -- and I found myself chuckling at his witty conversation more than once. Also, I have missed Bunter.

That said -- wow, what a product of its time. While there was nothing fully anti-semitic expressed, the constant need to comment on one of the victim's Jewishness and offer sweeping stereotypical views caused me quite a bit of dismay. I'm taking the opportunity to explore how things I didn't consciously examine in my previous reading may have tainted my worldview, and we'll see how far I get in the re-read of the series.

Also, hilariously, the audio version that I listened to was a legitimately published copy, but had clearly been copied off the CD, including both the change-CD now prompts and a portion obscured by disk damage. It surprises me that a publisher would release digital content in such a poorly edited state. The reader also took some getting used to -- very British, very lugubrious and languid in his speech, with a great many mouth noises as the the tale progressed. Very... authentic.

[chazzifrazz · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Mr. Thripps discovers a dead body of a man wearing only pince nez, in his bath tube first thing in the morning. After contacting the proper authorities, Thripps puts through a call to the Dowager Duchess, who in turn contacts her son Lord Peter Wimsey thinking he may be able to help Thripps. Lord Peter has a hobby of criminal investigation and this turns into his first serious case.At first it is supposed the victim was a well-known financier. How his body wound up in Thripps’ bath and what connection there is between the two men are more questions to be answered. Wimsey finds himself with a tangle of clues, some good and some leading to dead ends. Among those is if the body isn’t the financier, then where is he?The first of the Lord Peter Wimsey mysteries by Dorothy Sayers, written in 1923, it is an enjoyable read from the era. I’ve read the series before and am enjoying revisiting them.

[vesper1931 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Lord Peter Wimsey begins his investigation when he is called in to a suburban home where a naked body of a man has been discovered in a bath. At the same time a financier has gone missing but is not the dead man.
An interesting mystery, my first Wimsey read but I am unsure that I like the writing style

[infjsarah · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I think I read all the Lord Peter Wimsey stories when I was a teenager. Someone suggested one of the novels for my reading group so this was a reread. I struggled with it. I think my tolerance for the style was higher as a teenager! I ended up on a mix of reading and listening to it - fortunately it is short. I remember the 1980s BBC TV version of this which helps in picturing the character and makes him less annoying. But I did struggle with the read so I don't think rereading the rest is on the agenda.

[nx74defiant · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Enjoyable classic cozy mystery. Peter is a quirky character. I enjoyed his family too.There is a missing man and a dead body in a bathtub. Peter's mother asks for his help. Are the two cases connected? Of course they are!

[wishanem · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A charming old mystery story about an English nobleman in the 1920's who investigates interesting crimes as a hobby. At first he seems shallow and vain, and is only recommended to the reader by the loyalty of his more down-to-earth hyper-competent servant. However, a core decency and a surprising tragic element provide extra depth to his character over the course of the novel.
The murder mystery moves along at a steady pace without any real surprises or disappointments, and is brought together in a satisfying way.

[themulhern · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

An excellent mystery novel. The dated slang is really distracting, and I can't place some of the references. On the other hand, the epistolary bits and the morbid bits are really quite good. The murderer is a true psychopath; but nobody comes out and says it. He's really quite disturbing. The conversations about morality are worth the trouble. The novel is actually a bit like a play, conveying so much through the conversations, and this works very well.My recollection is that in later novels Sayers just got better and better at what she was already clearly exceptionally good at in this, her first detective novel.

[avanders_1 · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

DNF. I really really disliked the audio version of this. I think I might enjoy the book itself, but the audio narration was awful. I generally couldn't tell who was speaking based on voice, tone, or inflection. It seems as if the author herself was reading the audio version I was listening to (no narrator was listed) .. In any event, picking a female narrator for a book in which a vast majority of the characters are male seems ill-planned in the present case. I can't finish this. I will try again w a paper version some day.

[john257hopper · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This is the first Dorothy Sayers novel I have read and I am fairly sure there won't be another one. I found the central protagonist irritating; obviously meant to be Woodhousian, this personality didn't work for me as a sleuth and he isn't a patch on Hercule Poirot or Sherlock Holmes (though he invokes the latter on a couple of occasions). I thought the plot was just absurdly convoluted and completely unconvincing as recounted in the post-arrest confession of the murderer. Disappointing.

[jbd1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Not nearly as good as most of the later Wimsey stories, but the framework is there. An entirely decent quick read, though.

[brokentune · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Original Review (17 March 2014):" ‘You see, Lady Swaffham, if ever you want to commit a murder , the thing you’ve got to do is to prevent people from associatin’ their ideas. Most people don’t associate anythin’ – their ideas just roll about like so many dry peas on a tray, makin’ a lot of noise an’ goin’ nowhere, but once you begin lettin’ ’em string their peas into a necklace, it’s goin’ to be strong enough to hang you, what?’ ‘Dear me!’ said Mrs Tommy Frayle, with a little scream, ‘what a blessing it is none of my friends have any ideas at all!’"There is a certain resemblance between Lord Peter Wimsey and Bertie Wooster and the worlds they both inhabit. Of course, the obvious similarity is that both are somewhat nit-witted upper-class toffs who are aided through life both their valets and a group of strong-willed female relatives - Bertie by his aunts and Peter by his mother.For the first part of Whose Body? I just could not get over this similarity, because it seemed that Mrs Tommy Frayle's circle of friends may as well have included most of the book's characters, including Lord Peter. I just could not find an angle to his character that showed him to be more than a two-dimensional caricature of the Wooster archetype.However, then it happened: Whose Body? presented a pivotal moment that changed my appreciation of Lord Peter and his relationship with Bunter, his old friend and servant. I don't want to spoil this experience of discovery for any prospective readers so I won't go into much detail, but the main reason I came to appreciate Lord Peter - and to be fair this is the only memorable part of the story for me even after only a few short weeks of reading the book - is that he is portrayed as a man of his times. Sayers lifts Wimsey out of the cliche and attributes him with a real world experience and complexity that is lacking not only in Bertie Wooster - who of course was always meant as a caricature - but also other notable fictional contemporaries (maybe with the exception of Poirot).Had it not been for this sub-plot, I am not sure I would have enjoyed the story much at all.Thoughts on re-read (14 March 2020):LoL. This book was so much better on the re-read. Whose Body? was still a far cry from the quality of the rest of the series, but knowing the characters better from the other books gives this story so much more life and depth. I may have laughed out loud when Peter argued with his brother about Peter's hobby of sleuthing:‘I do wish you’d keep out of the police courts,’ grumbled the Duke. ‘It makes it so dashed awkward for me, havin’ a brother makin’ himself conspicuous.’‘Sorry, Gerald,’ said the other, ‘I know I’m a beastly blot on the ’scutcheon.’‘Why can’t you marry and settle down and live quietly, doin’ something useful?’ said the Duke, unappeased.‘Because that was a wash-out, as you perfectly well know,’ said Peter. ‘Besides,’ he added cheerfully, ‘I’m bein’ no end useful. You may come to want me your-self; you never know. When anybody comes blackmailin’ you, Gerald, or your first deserted wife turns up unexpectedly from the West Indies, you’ll realise the pull of havin’ a private detective in the family. “Delicate private business arranged with tact and discretion. Investigations undertaken. Divorce evidence a speciality. Every guarantee!” Come, now.’‘Ass!’ said Lord Denver, throwing the newspaper violently into his armchair.Hehe. Those of you who know, will know. But this made a lot more sense on re-reading. I also enjoyed Peter's relationships with all of the other main characters much more because of knowing how these will develop.It is such a strange first novel for a series, tho. There is a lot more of the feel of a Stevenson story to this than there is of Conan Doyle. This is changed in the later books, of course, but on the re-read I was reminded of a particular Stevenson short story (to name it would be a spoiler). Still, I really liked re-reading this, and would rate the book much higher if the onslaught of Wimsey (which is toned down in the books that follow) weren't such a distraction from the mystery and hadn't, after my first encounter with this book, made me put off reading the second for so long.

[streamsong_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is the first of the Lord Peter Wimsey mysteries. Lord Peter is a moneyed gentleman about town who enjoys dabbling in mysteries but also occasionally suffers bouts of ‘nerve exhaustion’ from fighting in WWI.In this first installment, a gentleman wakes up to find an unknown, thoroughly naked dead body in his bathtub. Lord Wimsey takes on finding the how, why and who. He is aided by his friend, Detective Parker of Scotland Yard who is coincidentally missing an esteemed Jewish financier – and although the easy solution, embraced by the bungling Inspector Sugg, is that the two are the same, Wimsey soon proves this wrong, but continues to search for a connection in the cases.We also meet Wimsey’s amazingly competent valet Bunter, who along with Wimsey’s mother, are excellent minor characters.It took me a while to engage with the plot, but the characters drew me in.I’ll be back for more.

[eurohackie · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A delightfully clever story staring the absolutely adorable Lord Peter Wimsey as a gentleman detective who takes up cases at his fancy. Here, he works with Scotland Yard detective Charles Parker to determine (1) whose body it is that's found in poor Mr. Thripp's bath, and (2) what connection, if any, it may have to a missing financier.The whodunit is twisty and smart, and the unravelling has that nice feeling of anticipation and dread that comes with suspecting the least-possible suspect, or so it appears on the surface.The length of this is closer to a novella than a novel (142 pages, or 70% of the Kindle file), and its not quite as tightly written as the Wimsey short stories, but it is just as much fun. We get a bit more of Lord Peter's character here, too, beyond the witty book collector. Looking forward to the next!

[fuzzi_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

An above-average mystery set in post WWI England, with Lord Peter Wimsey playing amateur sleuth. The mystery is interesting, but the interplay of Wimsey and other characters like his valet Bunter are what makes this more than just another murder whodunit.

[thornton37814 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

In this first Lord Peter Wimsey mystery, his mother interests him in a case in which a corpse is found in a man's bathtub. Then his friend Detective Parker of Scotland Yard seeks his assistance in locating a missing man. Although Inspector Sugg suggested the man in the tub and Levy were one and the same, Detective Parker and Lord Peter knew evidence suggested otherwise. While the book is well-plotted, the writing style takes a while to engage the reader. I listened to the version read by Nadia May, a pseudonym for Wanda McCaddon. She read a bit more rapidly in places than the ideal speed.

[kmartin802_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This is the first adventure of Lord Peter Wimsey, amateur detective. His mother brings him his new case when she tells him that a body was found in the bathtub of "the little architect man who is doing the church roof." Lord Peter is intrigued and seizes on the chance to solve the mystery.Then his friend Parker, who is a detective with Scotland Yard, brings him another puzzle. A Jewish financier named Sir Reuben Levy has also disappeared. Lord Peter's mother is a friend of the financier's wife which makes Peter eager to solve this problem too. While Inspector Sugg is certain that the body in the bath and the missing financier are the same man, neither Parker nor Lord Peter believe that to be the case. While Parker and Lord Peter, with the able assistance of his man Bunter, follow the clues and unearth potential villains, we get to know this bright young aristocrat who looks at solving crimes as a hobby and who is a veteran of World War I who came home with flashbacks and nightmares. I enjoyed the witty dialog even though I cringed at some of the stereotypes in the story written in 1923. I liked the way the clues were all presented so that the reader could potentially identify the villain along with Lord Peter.

[zhoud2005 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Very happy to discover Dorothy L. Sayers, a true master of classic cozy mystery.

[leslie398 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

2020 reread via audiobook narrated by Ian Carmichael.
I love this series and have read it multiple times since I was introduced to it in my youth. This time I listened to the audiobook instead of reading it since I found an audiobook that was narrated by Ian Carmichael. I loved his narration & the mystery was pleasantly complex enough that I could be entertained even though I clearly remembered the solution.

[ashleytylerjohn · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Delightful to rediscover Lord Peter Wimsey. This was a surprisingly grisly murder, once all was said and done, but not too much for my delicate sensibilities, thank goodness. Although I can recall have a marked preference for the novels which Harriet Vane appeared in, this was an awfully fun read, it went very quickly, all the characters seemed delightfully differentiated, and I'm so pleased to get to read them all again.

(Note: 5 stars = amazing, wonderful, 4 = very good book, 3 = decent read, 2 = disappointing, 1 = awful, just awful. I'm fairly good at picking for myself so end up with a lot of 4s).

[casualfriday_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

The body of the title is a naked (except for a pair of glasses) corpse lounging in someone's bathtub. Indeed, who is it? A Jewish business man who has been reported missing? The corpse looks Jewish, but doesn't look like a business man.I downloaded this audio book from my library's Hoopla account, and I did it by accident: I thought it was the first Harriet Vane book, Strong Poison. Instead, it was the first Peter Wimsey book, and like many first books in a series, it lacks the richness of later books and was much more of a simple puzzle-mystery. Still, Wimsey was Wimsey from the start, a brilliant and sensitive man disguised as an upper-class twit. It's amusing just to hear him speak, and his banter with Bunter is delicious.

[sheiladeeth_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Whose Body is the first of Dorothy Sayers’ Lord Peter Wimsey mysteries. The book is shorter than later novels in the series, but it stands the test of time well, told with beautifully English voice, combining good manners and bad deeds in a truly enticing blend, and introducing a great protagonist. Lord Peter proves he loves books, reveals his wounded WWI psyche, and retires to his country home… but first there’s a body to be buried and a name to be given. There’s satisfaction in following the arguments, guessing their resolutions, and seeing the pleasing interactions whereby the truth will be revealed. Great characters, great time and place, and the promise of much much more to come.Disclosure: As a treat, I’ve decided to read all the Lord Peter Wimsey novels in order, so this is where I start, and I’m enjoying the ride.

[margaretfield · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

naked body with only pince eres found in bath tub, Lord Peter Wimsey series

[hopeevey · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Why haven't I read Sayers before? This is so good!!!

[cbl_tn · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

In his first novel, Lord Peter Wimsey is called on to solve the mystery of a corpse found in the bathtub of a middle-class couple's apartment. The man was a stranger to the homeowners. The police are also investigating the disappearance of financier Sir Reuben Levy. If the man in the bath was Sir Reuben, that would tie both cases together. Wimsey can see that it's not going to be that easy...This is one of the classics from the Golden Age of mystery. The plot and solution are clever, but it relies too much on the confession/disclosure of the murderer. It's been years since I read any of the Wimsey novels, and I had either forgotten or overlooked the first time around that Wimsey suffered from post-traumatic stress from his World War I service.

[laytonwoman3rd · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

When a mysterious naked body turns up in a bathtub, and a prominent Jewish businessman disappears, Lord Peter tries to put one and one together. He comes to the right conclusion, without any red herrings, (he leaves those to the police, in classic fashion) but it is a bit daunting to follow his reasoning. This was my first Lord Peter Whimsey outing. I was surprised at his character, which struck me as somewhere between Sherlock Holmes and Bertie Wooster, with a hint of American sloppiness of speech thrown in. I see that it was also Sayers' first novel, and other readers have noted that she refined his character over time. That being the case, I may try another. I hope she also cast aside the unmistakable anti-Semitism that stains this story. I thought I was missing something of Wimsey's back story until I realized this was the earliest of his adventures. I can't rate it very highly, but as I said, there is enough there to make me want to see if this series got better.2014

[razinha-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Delightful introduction to a character found by way of a suggested other book in the series. Fascinating that it was published in 1923. I found it more enjoyable, engaging, and intelligent than Conan Doyle's Holmes stories. I might have pushed another star were it not for the Melvillian hyper-detail tedium of an inquest proceeding in the middle.

Ms. Sayers was quite the literary polymath. I hope to find time to read more of these. I'm dead in the water with Doyle's Holmes as it is just dull, but the non inquest parts of Whose Body? were far from it.

[kaitanya64 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I haven't read a bad Dorothy Sayers yet, so I'm not surprised that this kept me on the edge of my seat. A little more raw and physical than some of her other Lord Peter Wimsey mysteries and as always an exploration of the nature of evil.

[heather_brock-1 · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

I wasn't too impressed and found this to be rather boring.