I know I have said several times in the past few years that the British Library Crime Classics series may have entered into the realm of diminishing returns, but I must admit that two of the most recent reissues have disproved this theory. In celebrating ten years of the series, there is, first of all, a return of John Bude, whose ‘The Cornish Coast Murder’ kicked us all off on this particular series’ journey. It was followed, as I recall, by a short stream of other Bude titles, each, ah, ‘celebrating’ a different English locale. Through his books Bude took us on a short tour to the Lake District, the Sussex Downs and Cheltenham before whipping us over the English Channel to enjoy a rip-roaring break of sea, sun and murder on the French Riviera with his series detective Inspector Meredith. It is to France that we return in Bude’s 1956 title ‘A Telegram from Le Touquet’, with the book also seeing the return of Inspector Blampignon of the Sûreté Nationale who appeared in a supporting role in ‘Death On The Riviera’ (this time it is Meredith who cedes centre stage, appearing only in a cameo late in the book). Structured in two distinct parts, Bude uses the first to establish characters and sketch out the suggestions of motivations for (hardly spoiler alert) the murder of the enigmatic and unpredictable aunt Gwenny. This sketching of character and structuring of background is placed within the classic detective novel location of the English Country House and is elegantly done, with Bude capturing the strains of familial relationships, money and class as marvellously as he does the setting. It seems to me however that it is in the second part of the book where Bude really comes into his own, as the focus switches to the South of France (the title’s reference to Le Touquet being slightly misleading in terms of the geographical focus), a landscape that Bude captures almost as finely as did George Bellairs in the Inspector Littlejohn novels set in Provence and the Alpes-Maritime locales. In some respects, as with Bellairs’ writing, the mystery of the crime might be seen as being supportive to the conjuring of place, but I suspect much depends on why one reads detective fiction in the first place. Those who take great pleasure in solving the puzzle of the crime will certainly find much to enjoy in ‘A Telegram from Le Touquet’, although the faint whiff of the solution requiring some details at best only vaguely hinted at may cause a nose or two to wrinkle in displeasure. If the resolution of the case then is a little disappointing this hardly affects the enjoyment of the book, for the main characters are very well developed, with Inspector Blampignon in particularly coming alive with assured strokes. There is certainly something of the Maigret in his demeanour, and one cannot help but wonder if Bude might have had Simenon in mind when writing parts of this particular title. It is certainly a worthy entry in the extensive British Library Crime Classics series, and a marvellous way to celebrate its tenth year in existence. Fingers crossed there will be many more delights than disappointments in the years ahead.

Certainly if there were to be an author guaranteed to provide another highlight in any series of detective fiction reissues it would be Edith Caroline Rivett, better known as E.C.R. Lorac and also as Carol Carnac, under which name ‘Impact Of Evidence’ was first published in 1954. Finally back in print seventy years on, the book is a welcome addition to the shelves, and if Yard detectives Rivers and Lancing are not quite up to the scratch of Inspector Macdonald in the Lorac books then they they are not so very far off. Set in the Welsh border country, the mystery in ‘Impact of Evidence’ centres on the body of a man discovered hidden in the car of an elderly retired doctor who has fatally crashed on the treacherous mountain lanes. As with John Bude and indeed Rivett’s many other books, the mystery feels reassuringly secondary to other aspects, notably the desire to evoke a sense of place and of the communities who coexist within those rural landscapes. The post-war context of a Britain emerging from the hardships of extended rationing is well captured, and Rivett’s admiration for the hard working farmers of the remote hill countryside of the borders echoes that expressed so well in her novels set in and around the Lunesdale landscape of northern England. Those novels, invariably featuring Inspector Macdonald, were published under the Lorac pseudonym and one can only assume that the Carnac pen name was chosen to distance (literally) the Welsh setting. 

If Bude’s book is full of the sunshine of the South of France then there is, perhaps unsurprisingly, a lot of rain in ‘Impact of Evidence’, with the rising floods of the fictional Wyvern valley recalling the floods in the Wye Valley in early 2020 as captured in Phil Rickman’s ‘Fever of The World’ Merrily Watkins mystery. Rivett’s novel might lack the intriguing specificity of local-lore that Rickman’s books are rich in, but is no less appealing for all that. If there is a criticism it is that, as with ‘A Telegram from Le Touquet’, the solution of the mystery relies too much on facts that the reader is not really aware of until the denouement, but again the level of frustration about this will rely very much on one’s reasons for enjoying detective mysteries. Regardless, Rivett’s excellent pacing, astute sketching of character and above all that tremendous skill for conjuring a sense of place make ‘Impact of Evidence’ as essential an addition to the British Library Crime Classics series as ‘A Telegram from Le Touquet’.