A review of Let X Be The Murderer by Clifford Witting – 231209

Another name to the pantheon of publishers who are doing their bet to aid the revival of interest in classic crime fiction is Robert Hyde whose Galileo Publishers has reissued three Clifford Witting novels, amongst others, in 2023. X is the Murderer was originally published in 1947 and is the seventh in Witting’s Inspector Charlton series. It is witty and has a clever twist that upends all the reader’s expectations of how the plot is going to develop.

The novel has some of the classic ingredients of the genre, a country House, Elmsdale, and a will that is about to be changed. However, it also has slightly Gothic, if not sensationalist, overtones, starting with a telephone call from Sir Victor Warringham claiming that during the night he was attacked by a pair of luminous, ghostly hands. Despite Detective Sergeant Martin’s initial scepticism, Sir Victor’s standing in the community means that the report is taken seriously and he, together with Inspector Charlton, go off to investigate. However, their attempts to see Sir Victor are thwarted by the other residents of the house.

Resistance is particularly provided by Sir Victor’s son-in-law, Clement Harler, a man whom Charlton takes an instant dislike to, making him want to hit him with something that would hurt. He lives in the house with his second wife, a younger woman called Gladys, and stands to gain under the original will. The long-serving housekeeper, Mrs Winters, no fan of the Harlers, is thought to be the likely beneficiary of any change in the will. The Harlers appear to be making a concerted effort to question the sanity of Sir Victor, a consultation with the ludicrously named eminent psychologist, Sir Ninian Oxenham is  planned, a move which if successful would invalidate any change to the will.

What seems a fairly straightforward set up with an inevitable conclusion becomes anything but as the plot unfolds. Yes, there is a murder, but the victim and the circumstances in which it is committed forces the reader to challenge all of their preconceptions. Other characters move into the purview, not least the gardener, Tom Blackmore, and the family solicitor, Mr Howard, who seems overtly friendly and helpful, and a drunkard and blackmailer to boot, Raymond Valentine.  

However, the star of the book is another of those precocious children who crop up in crime fiction, the ten-year-old John Campbell, who lives with Mrs Winter, and is the only sign of vitality in a house ravaged by competing factions. His plight, as the story moves to its conclusion, is affecting, but the truth as to his real identity at least ensures that that part is happily resolved. As Charlton digs deeper into the case, he discovers family secrets and hidden identities which help to make sense of what was going on at Elmsdale.

Witting uses his descriptions of the house as a metaphor for what is going on inside. It is in a state of neglect, and the brutality of its architecture is hidden by a façade of ivy. Like the residents inside, it is hiding its secrets under the veneer of respectability.

Structurally, the book is divided into four parts – theorem, hypothesis, construction, and proof – and Witting writes with his usual verve and wit to produce an engaging mystery which is almost a masterpiece of misdirection. It is great  fun and I look forward to reading the other two recent reissues.