“At the Man with a Load of Mischief, they found a dead man with his head stuck in a beer keg. At the Jack and Hammer, another body was stuck out on the beam of the pub’s sign, replacing the mechanical man who kept time. Two pubs. Two murders. One Scotland Yard inspector called in to help. Detective Chief Inspector Richard Jury arrives in Long Piddleton and finds everyone in the postcard village looking outside of town for the killer. Except for Melrose Plant. A keen observer of human nature, he points Jury in the right direction: toward the darkest parts of his neighbor’s hearts…”[Publisher's Summary]
Prompted by author Lauren Baratz-Logsted‘s answer to a question I recently put forth to her, I picked up the first of Martha Grimes’ Richard Jury novels, and I might add eagerly at that. If you need a refresher, this is what she had to say about the Detective Chief Inspector: “[he's a] tall man of the law with the killer smile… And yet he is so sad in a way.” That’s a hard-to-resist description, don’t you think? And besides, it was about time I got back to the mystery genre, which I once read widely and love still.
Richard Jury is just as Lauren said he was. His solitary life has been devoted to his work; he’s respected by his peers at New Scotland Yard, but upon leaving his office he returns to an empty flat. He feels that emptiness keenly. And he has a sense for it in others. His empathetic nature aids him well on the job. There was this scene, midway through, that captured both his compassion and his charm:
“A drink, then, love?” Jury shook his head. “Well, you’ll have to excuse me, love. It’s not often I get a shock like this. Let me tell you, when I went out there – ” and her head fell in her hands.
“Of course. I understand, Mrs. Willypoole. I’d like a look first at the garden, and then to ask you a few questions.” She didn’t seem to hear him, and he decided that unless he wanted an unconscious witness, he’d better not come on quite so pompously with her. He leaned on the bar and tried to match her tone. “Can’t say I blame you. But listen, love, go easy on that,” and he flicked his nail against the bottle. “I’m going to need your help.” He winked.
She looked up at him and set down the glass. “Hetta’s the name.” [p. 105]
I enjoyed many things about Jury: he didn’t take his position so seriously as to actually be pompous (his comment in that snippet above only serves to reinforce that that is so,) he is compassionate but will not suffer fools, as the say, and his intelligence doesn’t hold him from seeking the counsel of others. He really can be very sweet and self-deprecatingly charming. And beneath his lonely, justice-driven exterior? Well, this hints at what you might find:
Her eyes widened. “Well, really, Inspector Jury! And what reasons would you allow for marrying?”
Jury was out of his chair and over at the window now, staring out at the snow sifting down in the light of the street lamp. “Passion! Besottedness! Sex, if you like. Not being able to keep your hands off someone, or think about anything else!” He turned from the window. “‘Caring’ – what a bloody washed-out word that is!…” [p 187]
Richard Jury is a thinking man’s man, but there’s plenty there for ladies to admire as well.
In general, Martha Grimes’ characterization is excellent. The secondary characters, suspects and colleagues alike, come to life with quirks, defined personalities, and the knowledge that they have lived their pasts thoroughly. I won’t go into any of them in any kind of detail – even if I want to – because there are simply too many of them, and several are wonderful enough to have this post going on for some while yet. Just know Jury is not a fluke.
Grimes also excels at atmosphere; I get the sense that she knows England, understands it in all of its seasons, and she brings that knowing to the page. The events in this first novel ring around the Christmas holiday and snow is falling freely; Jury delights in mucking up an expanse of unbroken snow on more than one occasion, and through him you can not only see it, but you can hear it, can practically smell it. Then there are the descriptions of mundane items such as furniture, cars, clothing…It all comes together to create a rather marvelous world, especially one in which to set a murder or two. Or four.
As for the mystery, it was well done. The reader can see Jury working it out, but is never privy to his exact thoughts, which meant the crimes were not easily solved or guessed at. There are enough plausible suspects to actually make it a mystery, and yet when the killer is revealed the motivation is there and it’s believable. The characters are smart enough to see – and name – a red herring for what it is, and those that quoted Holmes endeared themselves to me immediately. (I should mention, too, that the characters that populate this novel, several of them, are up on their literature. The quotes extend beyond Conan Doyle and veer often into the territory of poets. It was nice, not pretentious or cloying.)
I enjoyed Jury and his first novel so much I went out and purchased the second right away; I’m reading it now. (And I’ve got the third on stand-by.) If you enjoy a solid police procedural, a smart, thoroughly likable detective, and a strong English setting, you should check out The Man with a Load of Mischief too.
For more on Grimes’ Richard Jury, check out Lauren’s recent article “My Kingdom for a Series.” (Just don’t be surprised if she makes it impossible for you to not read these books.)
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