Reviews and commentary on the works of Agatha Christie, best mystery author of the "Golden Age".

Agatha Christie Reviews

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

The Sittaford Mystery

Also known as Murder At Hazelmoor, this is one of my favorite novels. Captain Trevelyan (retired Navy man) rents his home, Sittaford House, in the tiny village of Sittaford to the Willetts for the winter.

He rents a house in nearby Exhampton called "Hazelmoor" for himself, where his life-long friend, Major Burnaby, visits on Friday nights for gaming (chess, not video!).

It's been a bad winter. Snow is heavy on the ground, with more on the way. Mrs. Willet invites several people for the afternoon, and soon they're engaged in table turning. It's all fun, until the table spells out "T-R-E-V D-E-A-D".

Despite the impending blizzard, Burnaby is upset enough to make the six-mile walk into Exhampton and ensure Trevelyan is all right. When, a couple of hours later, he arrives and gets no answer at the house, he calls on the local police.

They enter and find that the table was right: Trevelyan is dead, having been killed, so the doctor figures, just around the time the table rapped out its message.

Inspector Narracott, in charge of the case, dismisses "spirits" and looks for a material solution. He quickly finds it in James Pearson, one of Trevelyan's nephews, who is not only hard up, but was actually at the house around the time of death.

Enter Emily Trefusis, James' fiancee. She's one of Christie's "spunky heroines": bright, crafty, and indomitable. In no time at all, she has a journalist (Charles Enderby) in tow, and establishes herself in Sittaford to make her own investigations.

The story has an overall light tone, though with serious undercurrents. After all, a man's life is at stake, and there are others who were in need of some ready cash besides James.

It's great fun watching Emily and Charles poking around the village and town, especially Emily. She has no qualms about making up anything she thinks will serve her purpose, and she's quite good at it.

For example, to avoid offending the sensibilities and "pure minds" of the locals, she presents Charles as her cousin. In some way (don't ask me how) this makes it "all right" that they take (separate) rooms in the cottage of the local cleaning oman.

The best part is that Emily is no fool, no addle-pated heroine who rushes
impetuously into a bad spot. When she finds the "ultimate clue", she does exactly the right thing with it.

Of course, there are red herrings and schemes under the surface. The trick is to disentangle the main plot from the side issues, and as usual, it won't be easy. Christie's sleight of hand is as deceptive as ever.

The Sittaford Mystery is a treat for any Christie fan. Unfortunately, it isn't easy to find these days. While many of Dame Agatha's books are in print, this one doesn't seem to be available, and you'll have to try eBay or a second-hand bookseller. It's worth the effort.






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