Whose Body?: A Lord Peter Wimsey Mystery

By Simon Winchester and Chris Willis

Dorothy L. Sayer’s first novel, Whose Body?, introduced the world to the aristocratic crime fighter Lord Peter Wimsey, who featured in fourteen subsequent novels and short stories. Athletic, scholarly, stylish and sharp, Lord Peter Wimsey became one of the most popular and beloved heroes of the genre. In Wimsey’s first case,

• Language: English
• Publisher: Warbler Classics
• Release date: Sep 4, 2019
• ISBN: 9781733561693

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.

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Dorothy L. Sayers

Dorothy L. Sayers (1893-1957) is widely considered one of the greatest mystery writers of all time. She is best known for her creation of Lord Peter Wimsey, one of the most beloved amateur sleuths of the genre. She was also a poet, a student of classical and modern languages and theology, as well as an essayist, playwright, critic, and translator.

She was born in Oxford on June 13, 1893, the only child of the Rev. Henry Sayers, of Anglo-Irish descent. Her father was at the time headmaster of Christ Church Cathedral School, and she was born in the headmaster’s house. She was brought up at Bluntisham Rectory, Cambridgeshire, and went to the Godolphin School, Salisbury, where she won a scholarship to Somerville College, Oxford. In 1915, she graduated with first class honors in modern languages. Disliking the routine and seclusion of academic life she joined Blackwell’s, the Oxford publishers, worked with her Oxford friend Eric Whelpton at L’École des Roches in Normandy, and from 1922 until 1929 served as copywriter at the London advertising firm of Bensons.

In 1923, she published her first novel, Whose Body?, which introduced Lord Peter Wimsey, her hero for fourteen volumes of novels and short stories. She also wrote four other novels in collaboration and two serial stories for broadcasting. Once she turned to writing full time she rose to be the doyen of crime writers and in due course president of the Detection Club. Her work, carefully researched and widely varied, included poetry, the editing of collections with introductions on the genre, and the translating of the Tristan of Thomas from mediaeval French. She numbered among her friends T. S. Eliot, Charles Williams, and C. S. Lewis.

She married Arthur Fleming in 1926. In 1928, her father died at Christchurch in the Fens, his last parish, and she bought a cottage at Witham, Essex, to accommodate her mother. On the latter’s death a year later she moved in herself, bought the house next door, joined the two houses, and lived there until her own death in 1957.

Gaudy Night was to be the culmination of the Wimsey saga, but her friend Muriel St. Clare Byrne persuaded her to collaborate in putting Lord Peter on the stage in Busman’s Honeymoon. The play was successfully launched in December 1936, and she gave up crime writing except for the book of the play and three short stories. With her new financial security she returned to the work for which she had been trained. In 1952, Sayers said, One of the reasons I no longer write detective stories is the income tax. Anything that is liable to sell well may be ruinous.

After the war she taught herself old Italian and produced an enduring translation Dante’s Divine Comedy. She also completed her translation of the Song of Roland from the old French. She died suddenly from heart failure on December 17, 1957, at the age of 64.

WHOSE BODY?

First Warbler Classics Edition 2019

First published by T. Fisher Unwin 1923

www.warblerpress.com

isbn

978-1-7335616-8-6 (paperback)

isbn 978-1-7335616-9-3

(e-book)

A Lord Peter Wimsey Mystery

WHOSE BODY?

Dorothy L. Sayers

To M. J.

Dear Jim:

This book is your fault. If it had not been for your brutal insistence, Lord Peter would never have staggered through to the end of this enquiry. Pray consider that he thanks you with his accustomed suavity.

Yours ever,

D. L. S.

contents

Dorothy L. Sayers i

CHAPTER I 1

CHAPTER II 12

CHAPTER III 27

CHAPTER IV 38

CHAPTER V 57

CHAPTER VI 77

CHAPTER VII 100

CHAPTER VIII 114

CHAPTER IX 121

CHAPTER X 132

CHAPTER XI 148

CHAPTER XII 158

CHAPTER XIII 165

The Great Detectives: Lord Peter Wimsey 181

WHOSE BODY?

CHAPTER 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 nonexistence.

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

Reviews for Whose Body?

[riverwillow · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

The first of the Lord Peter Wimsey novels and one which starts the series on a high. Wimsey is confronted with two seemingly baffling mysteries which he, of course, solves in his usual inimitable style. What I particularly liked about this novel is how clearly the Wimsey's relationships with his friends and family are defined, his strained relationship with his brother and his closeness to his mother, his friendship with Parker and last, but not least, the wonderous Bunter whose talents and capabilities seem to have no limit.

[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.

[thesmellofbooks · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The second Lord Peter Wimsey novel is thoughtful, affectionate and at times humorous in its depiction of Lord Peter and his fellows. A more rounded and appealing protagonist than most. Quite enjoyable read.

[tjsjohanna_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Parts of this mystery are quick enjoyable - Lord Peter can be amusing, I quite liked his mother, and the mystery began as a promising puzzle. However, the puzzle quickly resolved itself and the final chapter where everthing is explained was a little too long. Would like to try another and see if the mysteries get better.

[litalex · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is the first mystery that I figured out the killer and the method of body disposal before the end. Though the author was pretty explicit by then.Good book.

[julesjones_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

BBC Radio 4 full cast dramatisation, on two CDs, with Ian Carmichael as Lord Peter Wimsey.The first Lord Peter Wimsey book, dramatised for radio in 1973 in five half hour episodes. It's a superb dramatisation, with a wonderful cast, and while it does of necessity leave out some of the book, it captures the story and the characterisation very well. I think you would enjoy this even if you haven't read the book, but if you like the books, this is a wonderful adaptation. Very much recommended if you're a Sayers fan, particularly if you're a fan of Ian Carmichael as Wimsey.The cast also includes a fair bit of interest for fans of 1970s and 1980s cult TV. Amongst others, there's Peter Jones, Gabriel Woolf, and Peter Tuddenham.

[zhoud2005 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

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

[figgles_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The very first Lord Peter Wimsey novel, and a fabulous start to the series. Stands up well as a re-read, and is by turns, light, serious, funny and poignant. A very good introduction to the characters, as well as a most enjoyable story.

[mrslee_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

One of the best first lines ever. "Oh damn". It begins as a bit of a farce, but by the end of the book, things are very sober indeed. A great study on the debate, Do we have the right to take another man's life? Do we have the capability to assign value, high or low to another's life? A great story.

[susiesharp_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This is the first Lord Peter Wimsey book it was pretty good ,not as good as I was expecting but still good .I will be reading more of this series as I've heard they do get much better.

[kathy89_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Lord Peter helps the police solve the murder of a dead body (wearing only a pince-nez) in the bathtub of an architect friend of his mother's. Silly, bored aristocracy humor of the time.

[aliceunderskies · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Very fun! The mystery was fairly obvious, but it was an enjoyable romp to see it through. Lord Peter has the makings of a quite interesting character: easily bored, a bit of a dilettante, sufferer of PTSD from the great war, enormously charismatic. I chortled at all of the little meta-touches on the conventions of detective fiction; my favourite of which was a round-about questioning of a witness, disguised as a conversation/complaint about how witnesses in detective stories always remember everything perfectly. Delightful! I hadn't even finished before I got my hands on the next several in the series--something I rarely do, a highest compliment.

[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.

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

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

[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.

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

I was honestly disappointed in this book and in Sayers' writing. I had heard rave reviews about her books and how Dorothy L. Sayers was "another Agatha Christie". However, Sayers strayed from the storyline and left holes in the plot. There were so many added pages that it was almost confusing. Unlike Hercule Poirot, and other characters of Christie's, Lord Peter Whimsey was not a character that you could immediately like or feel friendly with.
The mystery itself was interesting, if only the story could have kept my attention....

[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).

[antiquary_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A very good opening to the series, with a naked male body appearing in a respectable architect' bath, and a distinguished Jewish financier vanishing. As it turns out, they are not the same man, but there is a connection.

[sianpr · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

1st outing for amateur sleuth Lord Peter Wimsey. Enjoyable although dated and interesting twist by addition of 1st world war shell shock to Wimsey.

[raschneid_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is the second Dorothy Sayers novel I've read. I'm not a mystery reader in general, but Sayers really is a fantastic writer; I'm in love with her characters and dialogue. Lord Peter really feels like a protagonist, which is difficult to pull off in a mystery novel. And the just-on-the-cusp-of-modernity setting is extremely inviting as well.

There's not quite as much social and philosophical content as in Gaudy Night, the other Sayers book that I've read, but much of the focus is still on larger issues - the ethics of detective work and medicine, the nature of morality, and Peter's experiences as a WWI veteran. It's smart reading!

Also, the mystery is pretty good. :)

Reread: 5/4/11. Add "the interconnectedness of things" to list of philosophical content.

[page.fault · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

The first of the Lord Peter Wimsey books, this is one of my favourites. It perfectly captures the postwar world--superficiality and despair perfectly balanced. Wimsey, in his introduction, is a likeable character, outwardly a prattling fool, but inwardly a shell-shocked, pain-wracked soul torturing himself over his experiences in the war. The mystery is a trifle obvious, but the characters are likeable and fun. More importantly, the book really captures the atmosphere and troubling questions that were faced in the society of postwar England.

[booksfordinner · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Funny, I just started reading this series at around the same time I started reading the Patrick O'Brian Aubrey-Maturin books, and I feel the same way about them . These books are literature disguised as genre novels! The language is fantastic, and I love how Sayers introduces the idea that Wimsey suffered from PTSD after WWI. I hope that is explored more in future books.

[hglotzbach_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I had a hard time with the dialogue and writing style used in this mystery. As the book progressed more focus was placed on the actual case making it easier to read. This is my first time reading Dorothy L. Sayers so I really didn't know what to expect. I am looking forward to more Lord Peter Wimsey.

[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.

[angharad_reads · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Much better than the book I read next (Five Red Herrings). Had some Dowager Duchess, besides the piffle. Somewhat obvious motive for the crime, but it was fun watching them make sure about the means and so on. Also some amusing offscreen gore at the end.

[jim53_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Sayers's first Lord Peter Wimsey mystery lacks the calm assurance and mature style of most of the later entries, but it does have its charms. Foremost among these are the characters, particularly Lord Peter himself, his mother, and his manservant Mervyn Bunter. The mystery itself is interesting, involving two cases which might not be related at all--but we see Lord Peter's ability to make connections, perhaps his greatest strength as a sleuth and solver of puzzles. He follows his deductions to improbable but ultimately correct conclusions. Worth reading just to see the introduction of the great character who will star in so many excellent sequels.

[mdomsky_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

It all started when Lord Peter Wimsey's mother phoned him to tell him she couldn't have tea with the church's architect that morning as he'd found a body in his bath tub. The infinitely resourceful Lord Peter worms his way into the murder investigation for a lark, and feels obligated to continue since he's convinced the police have made a mistake. Set in the London of the 1920s, this story is crackling with droll British humor, and only the first in a fantastic series of classic mysteries.

[jeremypreacher · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Peter Wimsey is pleasantly engaging, and the rather old-fashioned mystery is charming. I can see why these have held up well over time - while there are aspects that are depressingly dated (I couldn't help but wince a bit at the discussions of Jews,) a solid love-or-money motive and fastidious sleuthing are always perfect for a bit of light reading.

[helenliz_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Another Wimsey re-read. In this one there's a missing financier and a mystery body - are the two related? It seems unlikely, but with Parker working on the missing man from the police end and Wimsey working on the mystery body from the end of the family who had this dumped in their bath the two cases work their way together. I like this one with the excpetion of the final chapter, where the criminal confesses in a letter being written as he was arrested and prior to his intended flight form justice. Having it laid out like that somehow takes the gloss off it. But with that quibble aside, this is interesting for several elements, the incidence of Wimsey's shell shock being one that stands out. So one of the best puzzles, but the ending, to my mind, lets it down slightly.

[bill5bradford · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I originally started trying to read Sayer's Lord Peter Wimsey mysteries about 10-15 years ago, and only got about a 1/3 of the way through. It was a thoroughly delightful surprise then to go back, and find out how good these are.The stories are set in 1920's England (for all of you Downton fans, a perfect setting). The characters are superb. One can spend hours chuckling at the interaction between Lord Peter and Bunter, his valet. One also finds the origins of the strong friendship between the two.Overall, a simply delightful book - and I now understand why these are classics of the golden age of British mysteries.