1969 English detective fiction; twentieth of the novels of Albert
Campion, from an idea by Margery Allingham but written after her death
by her husband. "Turrets" is kept up in High Victorian style as a sort
of hotel for period weekend breaks, but a notable Soviet scientist
vanished while staying there, and several parties are taking an
interest.
I confess I was expecting the usual sort of thing found in
sequels by other hands, an attempt to copy the style of the other
author leavened with key catch-phrases or other memorable points to
try to cover over the differences. But this isn't that at all: it's in
quite a different style from Allingham's books (varied in style as
they were), but Campion is still quite recognisable.
He's only one of several narrative viewpoints, and indeed the book
opens with a midnight intrusion by an arsonist, which doesn't end as
intended—but it's a long time before we find out who he was, never
mind whom he met. Some of the puzzle to be solved here is who has done
the latest thing against Turrets, like kidnapping the professor who
provides erudite dinner conversation or taking a pot-shot through the
drawing-room window: the Soviets looking for their man? The property
developer who just wants the land? An agent who might be working for
either? But also, why did that scientist vanish, and where is he now?
The British don't know either… This in turn means that it's more of a
spy story than a murder story.
It's not the genius that is Allingham on top form, but it's not trying
to be. Don't expect another Allingham, but this is nonetheless an
interesting period piece and frankly rather better than I expected.