I’ve been re-reading my favourite Georgette Heyer historical romances over the past few years, as I do regularly. But this year I decided, instead, to read her crime fiction books; I will probably read one a month, interspersed with other books. When I first acquired them they were from diverse sources, mostly second-hand shops, but this time since I have them all, I thought I would read them in publication order. So I began with ‘Footsteps in the Dark’, which was first published in 1932 as a contemporary novel. I last read this novel in 2008.
Heyer, as ever, is excellent at characterisation. Her four main protagonists are a family group: Charles, who is married to Celia, Celia’s sister Margaret, and their brother Peter. The three siblings have recently inherited an old and rambling priory which needs rather a lot of renovation. Charles is not all that keen on staying there, even for a holiday; but he has a sense of humour, and when they learn, from the village publican, that the priory is supposed to be haunted, he is determined to get to the bottom of the apparent hauntings by a hooded, cowled monk.
Gradually they get to know a few of the locals, including a rather absent-minded vicar and his somewhat talkative and annoying wife. Then there’s a retired Colonel who likes to play bridge, an entomologist who wanders around at night trying to catch moths, a doctor who likes rather too much to drink, and a somewhat secretive man who’s staying at the local inn, but won’t reveal what his work is.
It’s quite a tense story - the family hears footsteps, and what appears to be terrible groaning beneath their feet. They also discover something very unpleasant in the house, and several secret sliding doors. Gradually they get to know the other residents of the village, and it’s fairly clear that one (or more) of them is responsible for much of what is going on…it’s not until about half way through the book that a particularly nasty event occurs, and events take a more sober turn.
As I said above, Heyer’s characterisation was good. Her people seem believable in a 1930s upper-middle class kind of way, with a bit of wry humour here and there and some mildly amusing conversations, particularly involving the siblings’ aunt who is living with them. I enjoyed the interactions and the story itself.
But unlike Agatha Christie, Heyer’s crime fiction is not full of clever red herrings, nor is there a sense of ‘duh!’ when the perpetrator is finally revealed. Although I’ve read this book before, I hadn’t recalled any of the storyline, nor the outcome. I had no idea what was going on or why the ‘monk’ was in the priory so often, and I don’t think there was any indication that might have alerted me.
Apparently when I read this before I did guess who the master criminal was, but this time I didn’t; really it could have been anyone. On the other hand, I had guessed the occupation of the secretive man in the inn, but that’s partly due to my knowledge of Heyer; it’s a device she used in at least a couple of her historical novels.
There’s a very light romantic thread running through the story, one which seems, at first, to be doomed. It makes a nice side story, and a bit of conflict for the siblings separate from the mysterious goings-on in the priory. But the romance is not the focus of the novel and is very low-key.
Recommended if you like light crime fiction of this era with good characterisation and conversation.
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