Throughout, her prose style remains as stately and proper as Cheverell Manor. Here's how she opens one scene: "From the sun-drenched earth there rose a pungent miasma of rotting leaves and sodden grass. Autumn had come early this year, but already its mellow refulgence had faded." Following Dalgliesh's meticulous investigation, as he interviews suspects and discusses clues among his team of investigators, James narrows the evidence and moves her readers toward a resolution of the mystery. Throughout, the manor itself is one of her most important characters. When Dalgliesh arrives to see Gradwyn's dead body, much of his focus is on the furniture: the room "was too carefully furnished, achieving an organized perfection which for him was unwelcoming . . . the Georgian writing desk, the two modern easy chairs before a stone grate fitted with an electric heater." In James's fictional landscape, bad taste seems like a crime, too.
There are suspects aplenty at Cheverell Manor, including the manor owner and plastic surgeon George Chandler-Powell; his assistant Marcus Westhall, Marcus's sister Candace; an aggrieved Westhall cousin named Robin Boyton who was disowned by the family; and various members of the staff. Dalgliesh interviews them all, finds inconsistencies in their stories, investigates the evidence, and follows every lead. Nothing is as it first appears.
Anyone who likes murder mysteries mixed with old houses, old furniture, and characters who would be at home in a Victorian novel will enjoy "The Private Patient." Just be sure to wipe your feet before you step onto the floral carpet, and be careful not to spill your tea.
Chuck Leddy is a freelance writer who lives in Dorchester.
