Clouds of Witness. Дороти Ли Сэйерс

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      This delightful mystery is the second featuring Lord Peter Wimsey. When his brother, the Duke of Denver, is accused of murder then it is Lord Peter's job to clear his name. The Duke is found standing over the body of his sister's fiancé, who he has recently argued with about claims that the victim, Captain Denis Cathcart, was a card sharp. However, when questioned, he refuses to give a reasonable account of why he was wandering around outside, in the middle of the night. Why is he being so secretive and what is their sister, Mary, hiding?

      This is a wonderful, Golden Age mystery, with Lord Peter Wimsey and Charles Parker truly collaborating. There are some great, atmospheric scenes, most notably when Wimsey and Bunter are lost on the moors. The scenes in the House of Lords, where the Duke of Denver is tried, are also very interesting. Much of the fun in these books is in Wimsey himself and his light-hearted banter and eccentric behaviour. He is one of the greatest fictional amateur detectives and this is one of his best cases.

      From Kaethe

      The plot is absurdly complicated, amusingly so. There are no end of intrigues in the country house where the murder takes place.

      But that's not the joy of reading a Sayers' novel: the pleasure is all in the humor. Wimsey acting a fool, Bunter's magical ability to produce anything needed, Mary's good heart, and the Dowager's formidable control of everything. It's Downton Abbey written by Oscar Wilde.

      From Susan

      This is the second book in the Peter Wimsey series and is simply delightful. His brother, the Duke of Denver, is arrested at a family's "shooting box", Riddlesdale Lodge. The murdered man is the fiancée of his sister, Mary.

      This novel really gives you a look at Peter and his family. There is not enough of the Dowager Duchess but it's fun getting to know his siblings. Bunter is someone I want in my life. He runs Peter's bath water, brings him breakfast in bed and pulls him out of quicksand. Peter's life? Who wouldn't want it? He's waited on hand and food, has no money worries and spends his time looking for rare books. It sounds like heaven to me.

      This is a buddy read with my GR Ireland group and I am loving reading this series. I don't know how I missed Sayers' books before this but I'm glad I've found her now.

      From Elinor

      Surely Dorothy Sayers must be the grand master of dialogue and dialect, both highbrow and lowbrow. Her working class characters are delightful, and the upper crust characters litter their conversation with literary references which I either have to stop and look up – or just read and enjoy. Each chapter begins with a quote from literature, ranging from Shakespeare to fairy tales.

      I particularly love Lord Peter Wimsey's speeches. For example, here he is speaking to his butler: "Bunter," said his lordship, "I'm the biggest ass in Christendom. When a thing is close under my nose I can't see it. I get a telescope, and look for the explanation in Stapley. I deserve to be crucified upside-down, as a cure for anemia of the brain." There is much more in this vein, all of it highly entertaining.

      Moreover, her murder mysteries are well-plotted and interesting. All in all, a very satisfying read.

      From Damaskcat

      This is the second novel featuring Lord Peter Wimsey. This time murder comes unpleasantly close to home when Lord Peter's brother – the Duke of Denver – is accused of the murder of his sister's fiancé. Riddlesdale Lodge is the scene for the death of Captain Cathcart and no one seems to be telling the truth about what they were doing at the time of the man's death. Lord Peter begins to think that his brother will go to the gallows rather than reveal what he was doing at the time.

      The investigation will lead Wimsey into personal danger before he finally ferrets out the truth of what really happened on the fateful night which looks like destroying his family. I enjoyed this book and thought the plot was very well done. I didn't work out what really happened until all was revealed by the combined efforts of Wimsey and Chief Inspector Charles Parker of Scotland Yard, an old friend of Wimsey's.

      I like the way the family interact – Gerald, the Duke, not very bright but trying to do what is expected from him in his role in society; Lady Mary – hiding something from a mistaken idea that to reveal it will put everyone in danger; the Dowager Duchess – shrewd and observant in spite of her flighty persona and Helen – wife to Gerald and bent on keeping up appearances in all the wrong ways.

      I can recommend this book to anyone who enjoyed Golden Age crime stories and even though it is part of a series it can be read a standalone novel.

      Clouds of Witness: A Lord Peter Wimsey Mystery

      The Solution of the Riddlesdale Mystery with a Report of the Trial of the Duke of Denver before the House of Lords for Murder

      The inimitable stories of Long-King never have any real ending, and this one, being in his most elevated style, has even less end than most of them. But the whole narrative is permeated with the odour of joss-sticks and honourable high-mindedness, and the two characters are both of noble birth.

      – The Wallet of Kai-Lung

      Chapter I

      "Of His Malice Aforethought"

      "O, Who hath done this deed?"

– Othello

      LORD PETER WIMSEY stretched himself luxuriously between the sheets provided by the Hotel Meurice.

      After his exertions in the unravelling of the Battersea Mystery, he had followed Sir Julian Freke's advice and taken a holiday. He had felt suddenly weary of breakfasting every morning before his view over the Green Park; he had realised that the picking up of first editions at sales afforded insufficient exercise for a man of thirty-three; the very crimes of London were over-sophisticated. He had abandoned his flat and his friends and fled to the wilds of Corsica. For the last three months he had forsworn letters, newspapers, and telegrams. He had tramped about the mountains, admiring from a cautious distance the wild beauty of Corsican peasant-women, and studying the vendetta in its natural haunt. In such conditions murder seemed not only reasonable, but lovable. Bunter, his confidential man and assistant sleuth, had nobly sacrificed his civilised habits, had let his master go dirty and even unshaven, and had turned his faithful camera from the recording of finger-prints to that of craggy scenery. It had been very refreshing.

      Now, however, the call of the blood was upon Lord Peter. They had returned late last night in a vile train to Paris, and had picked up their luggage. The autumn light, filtering through the curtains, touched caressingly the silver-topped bottles on the dressing-table, outlined an electric lamp-shade and the shape of the telephone.

      A noise of running water near by proclaimed that Bunter had turned on the bath (h. & c.) and was laying out scented soap, bath-salts, the huge bath-sponge, for which there had been no scope in Corsica, and the delightful flesh-brush with the long handle, which rasped you so agreeably all down the spine. "Contrast," philosophised Lord Peter sleepily, "is life. Corsica-Paris-then London… Good morning, Bunter."

      "Good morning, my lord. Fine morning, my lord. Your lordship's bath-water is ready."

      "Thanks," said Lord Peter. He blinked at the sunlight.

      It was a glorious bath. He wondered, as he soaked in it, how he could have existed in Corsica. He wallowed happily and sang a few bars of a song. In a soporific interval he heard the valet de chambre bringing in coffee and rolls. Coffee and rolls! He heaved himself out with a splash, towelled himself luxuriously, enveloped his long-mortified body in a silken bathrobe, and wandered back.

      To his immense surprise he perceived Mr. Bunter calmly replacing all the fittings in his dressing-case.

      Another astonished glance showed him the bags-scarcely opened the previous night-repacked, relabelled, and standing ready for a journey.

      "I say, Bunter, what's up?" said his lordship. "We're stayin' here a fortnight y'know."

      "Excuse me, my lord," said Mr. Bunter, deferentially, "but, having seen The Times (delivered here