Bleeding Hooks
A review of Bleeding Hooks by Harriet Rutland
Originally published in 1940 and now reissued by Dean Street Press, Bleeding Hooks, which went by the alternative title of The Poison Fly Murder, is the second of Harriet Rutland’s three crime fiction novels involving her slightly unusual Scotland Yard sleuth, Mr Winkley. It takes us into the world of the fly-fishing enthusiast and is another example of a story where a sleuth takes a well-earned rest only to find it turned into a busman’s holiday.
Winkley, as usual, has returned to the Fisherman’s Arms, adjacent to the best lake for trout fishing in Wales, and meets up with several of the regulars. They enjoy talking about fishing, their catches, the ones that got away, and each evening their catch is rather morbidly displayed in the hall of the pub. This set up allows us to be introduced to a range of eccentric characters, mostly comedic in some aspect, and to begin to understand some of the petty jealousies and niggles that exist in such a group.
One of the guests, a long-term resident, Mrs Mumsby, with a reputation of being more interested in men than fishing, is found dead at the spot where the fishing party stop for lunch. Known to have a weak heart it is thought that she died of a heart attack or stroke, but, curiously, she has a salmon fly in her hand. What fishing she did do was for trout, not salmon, and Winkley immediately suspecting foul play believes that the fly was used to introduce poison into her body. Who would have been motivated enough to kill a silly, slightly annoying woman?
Winkley cannot help but investigate and he is aided, abetted, and hindered in equal measure by two of the guests who go by the nicknames of Piggy and Pussy. Pussy is not the brightest, has a penchant for asking the wrong question at the wrong time while Piggy, the sounder of the two, has a rather condescending attitude to his girlfriend that many modern readers might find alarming. Inevitably, the duo’s blunderings lead them into danger and an attempt is made on one of their lives.
There are suspects galore, twists and turns as the focus of suspicion turns on one guest and then another. Along the way we learn a lot about flies, not least that each manufacturer of a fly has their own distinctive autograph in the way that they tie the knots and that some have blood curdling names such as Avenging Murderer, Blinkin’ Bastard, and The Bloody Butcher. Among the prime suspects is a young man, who has been cared for by his father since he was six months old, aspires to make a career on the stage as a magician and has a pet marmoset which goes missing, was near the scene of the crime, and is presumed dead.
Winkley’s trip to the theatre in London and an understanding of the backstory of Mrs Mumsby leads to the sleuth unravelling the mystery. However, there is an air of ambiguity about the ending, whether the right end of the stick (or fishing rod) has been grasped, and whether justice, even the muted form in which it takes, has been done. Rutland, the nom de plume of Olive Shimwell, invests more sympathy in the perpetrator than the victim. For the purists there just too many loose ends left dangling to make it an ultimately satisfying mystery.
That said, and although it is not as good as Knock, Murderer, Knock, this is an entertaining enough caper and one for those of us who like our crime laced with humour. There is not too much fishing lore to make it a turn-off for those who do not catch fish and rather like a wise salmon the reader can admire the flies for their attractiveness and ingenuity and move on without missing too much. For me, though, it added to the charm and colour of the book.
