The Voice of the Corpse

by Max Murray

When an old woman who spied on and sent threatening letters to her neighbors is found murdered, nearly the whole village of Inching Round become suspects

Genres: Mystery, Fiction, Whodunit

208 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1948

About the author

Maxwell Alexander Murray. 1901-1956. Born in Australia; newspaper reporter in that country, the U.S., and England; scriptwriter and editor for BBC during WWII; married to author Maysie Greig.

Reviews

[Jim · Rating 5 out of 5]

For several decades, Dover Publications hunted up works of mystery and horror written by unknowns and printed them in nice trade paperback editions. Max Murray's The Voice of the Corpse is one such book. Occasionally, one finds a clinker; just as often, a gem. And The Voice of the Corpse is a Gem.

A middle-aged busybody who taunts her fellow villagers with what she has found up about their secret lives is done to death by a blunt instrument. The world of Inching Round (the name of the village) is full of suspects. The late Angela Pewsey had no friends and was surrounded by enemies. Into this world comes the lawyer and reluctant detective Firth Prentice, and later the Scotland Yard Inspector Fowler, cast about trying to eliminate suspects.

The end comes blindingly fast and caught me completely off-guard. I wonder if Murray's other works as quite as unconventional. If so, he's worth looking up.

[Jean · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a first-rate mystery. Everyone has a motive for murdering the victim because she is the odious author of the poison pen letters they have have received. Her major goal in life is to be feared and to make someone else's life entirely miserable. So why should we even care to solve the mystery and find whodunit? Yet we do. And how, when all the characters are so sympathetic, can the author find a solution that won't make the reader sorry they read the book? Yet he does.

One thing I appreciated is the Scotland Yard detective is likable and very good at his job, and he finds out a great deal. Just not quite as much as the amateur detective who gets to the final truth (which does not in any way interfere with the policeman's conclusion).

Very complicated. Very satisfying.

[Kenneth · Rating 4 out of 5]

The village spinster gossip & busybody in an English village has been murdered by a sharp blow to her head. Whodunit??? There are a bunch of folks with conceivable motives. A classic fast paced English murder mystery, from post-WWII Britain.

[JohnR · Rating 5 out of 5]

The best vintage Penguin (IMO) by far, and I have read a few.
Have Penguin green-whites 1st edition.
Max Murray, one of those less known authors that the modern world needs to catch up on!

[Gregory Moses · Rating 5 out of 5]

Max Murray is a forgotten author---essentially all I can find of him is that he was Australian, wrote ten crime novels, and died young in 1956. He doesn't even have a Wikipedia page. And yet, in 1948, he wrote as his first crime novel one of the best village mysteries I've ever read.

Angela Pewsey devoted her life to uncovering other people's secrets and using them to cause harm, for the sheer pleasure of it. So when she's found murdered, nobody is terrible upset.

It would be unfair to Inching Round to say that its inhabitants enjoyed the aftermath of Angela Mason Pewsey. On the other hand, there was a background of excitement to the whole business that made quite a nice change ... No one else would go so far as Ted Mattock and say the village was well rid of the old bitch, because Ted was an outspoken man whose views always did take him too far. But without a doubt there was a trace of buoyancy in the air.

Or, in the words of the vicar,

‘In that field you see from this window a witch was burned. She was denounced from the pulpit of my church. And now, Mr Prentice, in this same village another witch has been struck down. For in the true sense of the word that woman, Angela Pewsey, was a witch. She dealt in evil, she sought it in the hearts of others. She carried her venom in her heart and tongue and mind.’ His voice rose. ‘I should have denounced her as my predecessor denounced that other witch. Now I pray that God will shelter the one who struck her down.’

And yet, the law cannot be made to take that view of things, so, while the local police look hopefully for a murderous tramp who will make it unnecessary to arrest one of their own, Inspector Fowler of Scotland Yard is sent down to pursue more realistic inquiries. Also poking around is lawyer Firth Prentice, who came down to try to put a stop to Angela's poison pen letters, and sticks around to investigate largely out of peer pressure from his friend cum love interest.

My praise of this only applies if you're willing to let Poirot-like deductions recede from your thoughts. There are no alibis to be cracked, witnesses giving themselves away through clever interrogation, overheard conversations to muddle over, clues to be interpreted, or anything of that sort. Our twin investigators muddle around, and discover much about the guilty secrets of the residents but little about the murder, and when things come to a head it is through sheer chance. But if you're not insisting on a classical golden age puzzle novel, this is delightful. The cast of characters is wonderfully charming, and even minor characters are imbued with sometimes startling humanity---the alcoholic Tom Everard is in no way likable, and yet the novel does not shy away from acknowledging the pathos of his lot:

If things had been different and Everard had died in the war, he would be remembered now as a hero and a dashing young sportsman. But he was destined to outlive his welcome. The odds were that it would take him years to kill himself.

And Mrs. Sims, the mother of the love interest, is a genuine delight---vague but keenly insightful,

Firth looked at her in astonishment and she laughed.

‘Firth dear, I saw the vicar walk purposefully down to the pond, quite obviously to leave you alone in his study. What other reason could he have for doing that? Of course you could just as easily have telephoned Dr Daw from here, but it was nice of you not to want us to be involved.’

...

‘Why on earth should I telephone Dr Daw?’

Mrs Sim gave a patient little sigh. ‘Presumably, dear, to tell him that it was quite likely that Inspector Fowler would call. Naturally you wouldn’t want him to be taken by surprise.’

This has few of the things I love about mystery novels---ironically, given how much I enjoy it, that disclaimer earlier is aimed at readers almost exactly like me---but it's such a wonderful novel as a novel, whatever its virtues as a mystery, that I can't bring myself to kvetch about genre trappings, fair clueing, or anything of the sort. Highly recommended.

[Lizzie Hayes · Rating 5 out of 5]

This novel (first published in 1947) was the first of the 12 written by Murray, all but one having ‘corpse’ in the title. Angela Pewsey is worse than the village gossip; she spends all her time observing and spying on her fellow inhabitants and uses all the information she gleans in malevolent ways, including threatening letters, so the village is grateful when she is murdered in mid-afternoon by a blow to the head. Indeed, it is said that it was ‘the first time in many years that someone had done something in her vicinity about which she was not thoroughly informed.’

The murder is committed whilst the comely Celia Sim is returning by train from London with her family solicitor Firth Prentice. He is aggrieved to be cast into the role of reluctant investigator and decides not to hand over some written evidence he has been given by a pair of local boys (they are a recurring double act and vital to the plot) when his help is declined by the local police in the guise of the stolid Sergeant Porter. The latter is convinced the murder was committed by a tramp; a view not shared by anyone else. The lack of progress in the investigation leads inevitably to the arrival of Scotland Yard in the person of Inspector Fowler. He soon discovers that the villagers are not keen to help him solve the case.

And so, begins a sequence of events and discoveries. There are a number of liaisons going on which complicate matters. Celia’s lover Graham Ward appears to have things to hide, as do the local doctor and the wife of a local drunk. The doctor’s receptionist is clearly holding a torch for her employer. It transpires that the wife of one of the suspects – who is not all he seems - has gone missing. Given that the novel was published just after the Second World War, it is not surprising that there is also a degree of topicality.

I enjoyed Murray’s entertainingly wry style very much. The village is called Inching Round, for a start. Describing the village, the author states that ‘it would be unfair to Inching Round to say that its inhabitants enjoyed the aftermath of Angela Mason Pewsey. On the other hand, there was a background of excitement to the whole business that made quite a nice change .... without doubt there was a trace of buoyancy in the air.’ Later Inspector Fowler enjoys a beer and ‘took a swallow that showed a nice balance between thirst and appreciation.’

The characters are well drawn. Celia’s mother, for instance, seems at first to be completely dotty but it soon transpires that she is anything but. The local boys have already been mentioned. For most of the novel there is only a small number of credible suspects, but vital evidence surfaces towards the end (the boys are again involved). After all, seems done and dusted, Firth Prentice discovers the real truth. It is a satisfyingly rounded denouement.

There is much to savour in this tale. If you have a taste for Golden Age mysteries, you will not be disappointed.
--------
Reviewer: David Whittle
For Lizzie Sirett (Mystery People Group)

[Eric · Rating 4 out of 5]

Beguiling is the adjective which comes to mind when thinking of this rather good first novel by Max Murray. Lightly ironic in tone and equally light in plot and detection, it is chock full of entertainment, brimming with “characters”, and like the best of humorous writing, has a solid vein of darkness

There is a murder right at the start, a Scotland Yard detective and an amateur “undetective”, in this tale set in the gloriously-named village of Inching Round.The murdered woman, a folk-dancer and singer, a spinner of yarn from dogs’ hair and writer of anonymous letters is thoroughly awful and generally disliked,which is unsurprising given her hobbies.

There is also an incredibly well-realised pair of boys ,Jackie and Alfie,who are the real detectives and who, with a little help from a dog, are responsible for a major part of the solution. The final pieces, however, are put together by Firth Prentice, the handsome solicitor and reluctant sleuth with some help from the fey-but-acute Mrs Sim who is the best-portrayed of a marvellous collection of villagers.

In the midst of the humour, there is much that is tragic and hard,as shown in the twisted and futile life of the alcoholic farmer whose wife snatches small comfort with the local doctor, and in the misplaced bravado and searing anger of Celia Sim’s boyfriend. The twist ending, which some readers may find a little weak and lacking in true justice-whatever that might be- in reality evokes true tragedy.

An unusual read, quite unlike its successor.

4.25 stars.

[Ann · Rating 3 out of 5]

A classic village-style mystery: a poisonous spinster is found with her head bashed in. This universally detested woman seems to have engaged not only in the writing of anonymous letters, but in some blackmail as well. And so the Scotland Yard inspector dispatched from London to investigate the case does not get very far with the locals - most seem to think the murderer did them all a favor. In parallel, a local mother-and-daughter ask their young solicitor to look into the matter. The mother is a charming scatterbrain - who somehow perceives more than other think. The daughter is a perky young thing, and when she's not quarreling with her fiance, she's quarreling with the solicitor.

All good fun, with some delicious red herrings thrown in along the way.

[Helen Lisl · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is one of the best previously undiscovered Golden Age whodunnits I have ever read, (andI have read a lot of them). Clever, witty, subtle, with the most believable and delightful small boy detectives determined to assist the reluctant lawyer pushed into investigating. Other critics have amply described the plot, so I will just say, seek it out. No idea if his other books are as much fun

[Sara Aye Moung · Rating 4 out of 5]

Enjoyable good read .

[Ron Kastner · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is so much fun; clever puzzle and many delectable characters, including the murder(s)?

[Daniel Stainback · Rating 4 out of 5]

Great dialogue!

[Kate · Rating 4 out of 5]

For my full review click on the link below:
https://crossexaminingcrime.wordpress...

[Bev · Rating 3 out of 5]

Max Murray was born in Australia and worked as a newspaperman in that country, the US, and England and served as scriptwriter,editor, and news correspondent for the BBC during WWII. He was married to author Maysie Greig. He died while on a return trip to Sydney in 1956 at the age of 55. The Voice of the Corpse (1948) is the first novel in a series of eleven mysteries all with "corpse" in the title. His novels, like his life as a journalist and an employee of the BBC, took him to various places in the world. This means that although there is the running "corpse" theme in the titles Murray's books do not have a series detective.

The Voice of the Corpse finds us in a typical post-WWII British village. Murray quickly establishes place and gives us finely drawn characters. The corpse in question for this outing is Angela Pewsey. Angela is that mainstay of detective fiction--a poison pen. Her voice is the voice of sneaky accusation. And until someone silenced her at 3:30 one fine afternoon with a neat blow to the back of her head, the vicious woman had collected bits and pieces of conversation, looked through stolen letters, and spied on her neighbors until she knew at least something about everyone in the village of Inching Round and everything about some of them. Her letters were gloating and threatened to reveal all. That was too much for someone and spelled the end for Angela.

The story is skillfully plotted and provides the reader with a large cast of suspects--because nearly everyone had a reason to stop Angela from broadcasting what she knew. The most prominent suspects are the vain, quick-tempered Graham Ward; Major George Torrens, a retired army man with a secret; the overworked doctor Eric Daw; and Joyce Everard, the woman he loves who just happens to be married--to someone else.

The village police are open to the wandering tramp theory. But though it is an attractive theory none of the locals believe it. And neither do Firth Prentice, a young London solicitor, or Inspector Fowler, the man from Scotland Yard. They discover other folks with motives and means--like Mrs. Sim and her daughter Celia, and the poacher Artie Evans. And then, of course, Angela's venom-soaked diary comes to light with clues enough to lead to the murderer's name...if Prentice and Fowler can decipher them.

Take a cast of plausible murderers, mix well with a shocking confession, and you wind up with a wonderfully exciting and unexpected finale. All told with humor and wit, fine dialogue, and irony. The Voice of the Corpse is another terrific example of post-WWII detective fiction by an author that few readers remember today.

[Sarah · Rating 2 out of 5]

Found on the B&B bookshelf... classic Golden Age whodunnit, a bit heartless.