Mr Campion was silent. For a moment he was aware of forces and counter-forces beneath the quiet lives surrounding Barnabas Limited. There were revelations to come, he knew, some of them hideous, some of them piteous and others fantastic in their unexpectedness. He also knew that the man in front of him did not dream that once the searchlight of police and Press was turned upon them there could be nothing hidden, nothing protected, and that beneath the glare little intimate things would stand out in unnatural prominence.
I wasn't very well prepared for the 1936 Club - life has been rather hectic in the past couple of weeks - I did a scan of my bookshelves and everything that looked hopeful was published in either 1935 or 1937! Then I spotted this and was very happy because I can never have enough of Margery Allingham and of course of Albert Campion, her wonderful private detective. I can't remember when I last read this, but it wasn't all that long ago and then it would have been a re-read, or a re-re-re-read. But I've been re-reading her from time to time since I was introduced to her by my mother when I was about 11 - it was Sweet Danger, if you know what that is, and if you do you'll know it was a perfect first meeting with Campion and with Amanda, who would many years later become his wife.
Amanda doesn't appear in Flowers for the Judge, but Campion does. He was first introduced in 1929, at which point he was a rather effete-seeming young aristocrat - possibly a parody of Peter Whimsey - but over the years he grew in maturity and strength. He has a brilliant mind, though he still tends at this stage (1936) to hide it sometimes under a vacuous exterior. He is, as we gather in this novel, the heir to a Dukedom, and many of his friends are from the cultured upper levels of society, but he also has numerous acquaintances in the seedy criminal world. It was from this world that he recruited his valet, Magersfontein Lugg.
Though published in 1936, Flowers for the Judge is set in 1931 for some reason. However, the story begins twenty years earlier with the mysterious disappearance of Tom Barnabas. A member of a large and well-established publishing family, Tom left home one morning dressed for business, and halfway down the road apparently vanished into thin air. This never-explained mystery has been largely forgotten, but it's brought to mind in the novel's present because another family member, Paul Brande, has just walked out of the flat he shares with his beautiful American wife Gina and doesn't reappear. Paul and Gina are not happy together, and she assumed at first that he's just taking a short break. But after three days, she and the members of the firm get worried. Finally, Paul's body is discovered in a basement strong room, where he has died from exhaust fumes coming through a grating from the garage next door. At first this looks like an unfortunate accident, but it turns out that a rubber pipe has been fixed to the exhaust of a car belonging to a young man called Mike Wedgewood, the youngest of the cousins who run the firm. Mike is in love with Gina, though the relationship has not developed. However, it gives Mike a motive, and he can't provide an alibi, saying he was out walking alone round London on the evening in question. And, most damning of all, he had visited the strong room during the time Paul's body was there, but strenuously denies seeing it. So, after the inquest, he is arrested for murder.
It's now up to Campion to investigate, which he does with the help of Lugg and some of his criminal friends, and with the support of Richie Barnabas, an eccentric cousin who lives upstairs in the building. And, although Mike goes to trial, everything turns out OK in the end. And, in a final prologue, we get to find out what happened to Tom Barnabas back in 1911.
I read somewhere that this is thought to be one of Allingham's best novels, and I would definitely concur with this. The plot is satisfyingly complex and the denouement provides some enjoyable twists. There's some skullduggery along the way with an original unpublished manuscript by the Restoration playwright William Congreve, and lots of excellent background detail. Allingham writes with wit and intelligence, and I was happy to read that Agatha Christie much admired her. Her characterisation is superb, and she sums people up in a sentence or two so that they become unforgettable. Here's Gina's housekeeper, Mrs Austin, after the news of Paul's death: 'Mrs Austin was kind; sympathy and friendliness oozed from her every pore, and yet she was enjoying the tragedy with the shameful delight of the under-entertained'. However, I was slightly bothered, for the first time, by Allingham's rather patronising attitude of people of a lower social class. Mrs Austin is one, but above all there is the wonderful Lugg. He and Campion have a wonderfully symbiotic relationship, and Lugg not only fusses over his master and obviously cares for him, but also helps him with his various criminal connections. However, Campion is endlessly scathing about Lugg's attempts to 'better' himself, and he's treated rather too much like comic relief to be altogether comfortable. I've never noticed this before, and it didn't spoil the novel for me at all, but it did add an interesting sidelight.
Anyway I'm delighted to have read it, and though rather late in the day, I'm happy to have made a contribution to the 1936 Club.
