The Body on the Doorstep
Late on a moonless night in Kent in 1796, Reverend Hardcastle opens the rectory door to find a man shot, dying, whispering four mysterious last words. Nearby, during skirmishes with smugglers, Miller, a Customs officer, is also shot dead. The inquest is rigged, so cool, capable Mrs Chaytor, a young widow living in the village, teams up with the Reverend to solve the mystery of the two deaths. Who are the shady gang of Twelve Apostles? What explains the comings and goings at the home of the Justice of the Peace? Is it simply a case of smugglers or is there treason afoot, related to England’s war with the French Republic and the threat of a French invasion? Above all, will the Reverend be able to overcome his penchant for port long enough to make heads or tails of any of it?
An enjoyable murder mystery with engaging characters, nicely observed historical detail and gentle humour. Hardcastle enlists the assistance of a young painter named Turner (yes, actually him) who is staying in the village undertaking en plein air studies of seascapes and weather. Turner also shins up a drainpipe to the bedroom of the innkeeper’s daughter now and then. In one vivid scene the Reverend is threatened in bed by pistol-wielding masked men. Hardcastle’s parishioners are godless, especially his bell ringers, and his regular congregation consists of three old ladies and three old men (one asleep, one deaf and one very smelly). The Reverend is kept lubricated with port and succoured with gingerbread by his “vinegary” but loyal housekeeper and uses his reputation as a drunken sot as cover for his sleuthing. Each and every melodramatic stop is pulled out in this old fashioned murder mystery that promises to be the first in a series featuring Hardcastle and Chaytor.
