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Clouds of Witness
Dorothy Leigh Sayers
Лорд Питер Уимзи #2
Clouds of Witness by Dorothy L. Sayers is the second novel in the acclaimed Lord Peter Wimsey mystery series. Published in 1926, this novel follows the amateur detective Lord Peter Wimsey as he investigates a murder that has taken place at his family's ancestral home. Set in the idyllic English countryside, this novel is a perfect blend of a classic whodunit mystery and a social commentary on the changing landscape of the British aristocracy.
The story begins with Lord Peter's brother, the Duke of Denver, being accused of murdering his sister's fiancé, Captain Denis Cathcart. Despite the strong evidence against the Duke, Lord Peter is convinced of his brother's innocence and is determined to clear his name. The investigation takes Lord Peter and his faithful manservant Bunter to the family's estate, where they must navigate through a tangled web of family secrets, old grudges, and potential motives for the murder.
One of the most striking aspects of Clouds of Witness is its vivid and richly detailed setting. Sayers expertly captures the beauty and tranquility of the English countryside, while also highlighting the stark contrast between the lavish lifestyle of the aristocracy and the struggles of the working class. Through her descriptions of the grand estate and its inhabitants, Sayers paints a picture of a society in transition, with the looming threat of the First World War and the changing values of the younger generation.
The characters in this novel are also incredibly well-developed, each with their own distinct personalities and motivations. Lord Peter, with his sharp wit and deductive skills, is an endearing and charming protagonist, while his brother, the Duke, is portrayed as a troubled and emotionally distant character. The rest of the Wimsey family, as well as the various suspects and witnesses, are all well-crafted and add depth to the overall story.
In addition to its well-crafted plot and characters, Clouds of Witness also delves into deeper themes such as loyalty, honor, and justice. As Lord Peter unravels the truth behind the murder, he is forced to confront his own beliefs and biases, and question the loyalty of those closest to him. Sayers also provides a scathing commentary on the shallow and superficial nature of the British aristocracy, and the ways in which their actions can have far-reaching consequences.
Overall, Clouds of Witness is a masterfully written mystery novel that combines a gripping plot, well-developed characters, and thought-provoking themes. Sayers' writing is sharp, witty, and engaging, making this novel a must-read for fans of the genre and anyone interested in exploring the intricacies of British society in the early 20th century. It is a timeless classic that continues to captivate readers with its intricate plot twists, compelling characters, and beautiful prose.
Dorothy L. Sayers
Clouds of Witness. A Lord Peter Wimsey Mystery
Reader Reactions
From Susan
This delightful mystery is the second featuring Lord Peter Wimsey. When his brother, the Duke of Denver, is accused of murder then it is Lord Peter's job to clear his name. The Duke is found standing over the body of his sister's fiancé, who he has recently argued with about claims that the victim, Captain Denis Cathcart, was a card sharp. However, when questioned, he refuses to give a reasonable account of why he was wandering around outside, in the middle of the night. Why is he being so secretive and what is their sister, Mary, hiding?
This is a wonderful, Golden Age mystery, with Lord Peter Wimsey and Charles Parker truly collaborating. There are some great, atmospheric scenes, most notably when Wimsey and Bunter are lost on the moors. The scenes in the House of Lords, where the Duke of Denver is tried, are also very interesting. Much of the fun in these books is in Wimsey himself and his light-hearted banter and eccentric behaviour. He is one of the greatest fictional amateur detectives and this is one of his best cases.
From Kaethe
The plot is absurdly complicated, amusingly so. There are no end of intrigues in the country house where the murder takes place.
But that's not the joy of reading a Sayers' novel: the pleasure is all in the humor. Wimsey acting a fool, Bunter's magical ability to produce anything needed, Mary's good heart, and the Dowager's formidable control of everything. It's Downton Abbey written by Oscar Wilde.
From Susan
This is the second book in the Peter Wimsey series and is simply delightful. His brother, the Duke of Denver, is arrested at a family's "shooting box", Riddlesdale Lodge. The murdered man is the fiancée of his sister, Mary.
This novel really gives you a look at Peter and his family. There is not enough of the Dowager Duchess but it's fun getting to know his siblings. Bunter is someone I want in my life. He runs Peter's bath water, brings him breakfast in bed and pulls him out of quicksand. Peter's life? Who wouldn't want it? He's waited on hand and food, has no money worries and spends his time looking for rare books. It sounds like heaven to me.
This is a buddy read with my GR Ireland group and I am loving reading this series. I don't know how I missed Sayers' books before this but I'm glad I've found her now.
From Elinor
Surely Dorothy Sayers must be the grand master of dialogue and dialect, both highbrow and lowbrow. Her working class characters are delightful, and the upper crust characters litter their conversation with literary references which I either have to stop and look up – or just read and enjoy. Each chapter begins with a quote from literature, ranging from Shakespeare to fairy tales.
I particularly love Lord Peter Wimsey's speeches. For example, here he is speaking to his butler: "Bunter," said his lordship, "I'm the biggest ass in Christendom. When a thing is close under my nose I can't see it. I get a telescope, and look for the explanation in Stapley. I deserve to be crucified upside-down, as a cure for anemia of the brain." There is much more in this vein, all of it highly entertaining.
Moreover, her murder mysteries are well-plotted and interesting. All in all, a very satisfying read.
From Damaskcat
This is the second novel featuring Lord Peter Wimsey. This time murder comes unpleasantly close to home when Lord Peter's brother – the Duke of Denver – is accused of the murder of his sister's fiancé. Riddlesdale Lodge is the scene for the death of Captain Cathcart and no one seems to be telling the truth about what they were doing at the time of the man's death. Lord Peter begins to think that his brother will go to the gallows rather than reveal what he was doing at the time.
The investigation will lead Wimsey into personal danger before he finally ferrets out the truth of what really happened on the fateful night which looks like destroying his family. I enjoyed this book and thought the plot was very well done. I didn't work out what really happened until all was revealed by the combined efforts of Wimsey and Chief Inspector Charles Parker of Scotland Yard, an old friend of Wimsey's.
I like the way the family interact – Gerald, the Duke, not very bright but trying to do what is expected from him in his role in society; Lady Mary – hiding something from a mistaken idea that to reveal it will put everyone in danger; the Dowager Duchess – shrewd and observant in spite of her flighty persona and Helen – wife to Gerald and bent on keeping up appearances in all the wrong ways.
I can recommend this book to anyone who enjoyed Golden Age crime stories and even though it is part of a series it can be read a standalone novel.
Clouds of Witness: A Lord Peter Wimsey Mystery
The Solution of the Riddlesdale Mystery with a Report of the Trial of the Duke of Denver before the House of Lords for Murder
The inimitable stories of Long-King never have any real ending, and this one, being in his most elevated style, has even less end than most of them. But the whole narrative is permeated with the odour of joss-sticks and honourable high-mindedness, and the two characters are both of noble birth.
– The Wallet of Kai-Lung
Chapter I
"Of His Malice Aforethought"
"O, Who hath done this deed?"
– Othello
LORD PETER WIMSEY stretched himself luxuriously between the sheets provided by the Hotel Meurice.
After his exertions in the unravelling of the Battersea Mystery, he had followed Sir Julian Freke's advice and taken a holiday. He had felt suddenly weary of breakfasting every morning before his view over the Green Park; he had realised that the picking up of first editions at sales afforded insufficient exercise for a man of thirty-three; the very crimes of London were over-sophisticated. He had abandoned his flat and his friends and fled to the wilds of Corsica. For the last three months he had forsworn letters, newspapers, and telegrams. He had tramped about the mountains, admiring from a cautious distance the wild beauty of Corsican peasant-women, and studying the vendetta in its natural haunt. In such conditions murder seemed not only reasonable, but lovable. Bunter, his confidential man and assistant sleuth, had nobly sacrificed his civilised habits, had let his master go dirty and even unshaven, and had turned his faithful camera from the recording of finger-prints to that of craggy scenery. It had been very refreshing.
Now, however, the call of the blood was upon Lord Peter. They had returned late last night in a vile train to Paris, and had picked up their luggage. The autumn light, filtering through the curtains, touched caressingly the silver-topped bottles on the dressing-table, outlined an electric lamp-shade and the shape of the telephone.
A noise of running water near by proclaimed that Bunter had turned on the bath (h. & c.) and was laying out scented soap, bath-salts, the huge bath-sponge, for which there had been no scope in Corsica, and the delightful flesh-brush with the long handle, which rasped you so agreeably all down the spine. "Contrast," philosophised Lord Peter sleepily, "is life. Corsica-Paris-then London… Good morning, Bunter."
"Good morning, my lord. Fine morning, my lord. Your lordship's bath-water is ready."
"Thanks," said Lord Peter. He blinked at the sunlight.
It was a glorious bath. He wondered, as he soaked in it, how he could have existed in Corsica. He wallowed happily and sang a few bars of a song. In a soporific interval he heard the valet de chambre bringing in coffee and rolls. Coffee and rolls! He heaved himself out with a splash, towelled himself luxuriously, enveloped his long-mortified body in a silken bathrobe, and wandered back.
To his immense surprise he perceived Mr. Bunter calmly replacing all the fittings in his dressing-case.
Another astonished glance showed him the bags-scarcely opened the previous night-repacked, relabelled, and standing ready for a journey.
"I say, Bunter, what's up?" said his lordship. "We're stayin' here a fortnight y'know."
"Excuse me, my lord," said Mr. Bunter, deferentially, "but, having seen The Times (delivered here every morning by air, my lord; and very expeditious I'm sure, all things considered), I made no doubt your lordship would be wishing to go to Riddlesdale at-"
"Riddlesdale!" exclaimed Peter. "What's the matter? Anything wrong with my brother?"
For answer Mr. Bunter handed him the paper, folded open at the heading:
RIDDLESDALE INQUEST.
DUKE OF DENVER ARRESTED
ON MURDER CHARGE.
Lord Peter stared as if hypnotised.
"I thought your lordship wouldn't wish to miss anything," said Mr. Bunter, "so I took the liberty-"
Lord Peter pulled himself together.
"When's the next train?" he asked.
"I beg your lordship's pardon-I thought your lordship would wish to take the quickest route. I took it on myself to book two seats in the aeroplane Victoria. She starts at 11.30."
Lord Peter looked at his watch.
"Ten o'clock," he said. "Very well. You did quite right. Dear me! Poor old Gerald arrested for murder. Uncommonly worryin' for him, poor chap. Always hated my bein' mixed up with police-courts. Now he's there himself. Lord Peter Wimsey in the witness-box-very distressin' to feelin's of a brother. Duke of Denver-the dock-worse still. Dear me! Well, I suppose one must have breakfast."
"Yes, my lord. Full account of the inquest in the paper, my lord."
"Yes. Who's on the case, by the way?"
"Mr Parker, my lord."
"Parker? That's good. Splendid old Parker! Wonder how he managed to get put on to it. How do things look, Bunter?"
"If I may say so, my lord, I fancy the investigation will prove very interesting. There are several extremely suggestive points in the evidence, my lord."
"From a criminological point of view I daresay it is interesting," replied his lordship, sitting down cheerfully to his café au lait, "but it's deuced awkward for my brother, all the same, havin' no turn for criminology, what?"
"Ah, well-" said Mr. Bunter, "they say, my lord, there's nothing like having a personal interest."
"The inquest was held to-day at Riddlesdale, in the North Riding of Yorkshire, on the body of Captain Denis Cathcart, which was found at three o'clock on Thursday morning lying just outside the conservatory door of the Duke of Denver's shooting-box, Riddlesdale Lodge. Evidence was given to show that deceased had quarrelled with the Duke of Denver on the preceding evening, and was subsequently shot in a small thicket adjoining the house. A pistol belonging to the Duke was found near the scene of the crime. A verdict of murder was returned against the Duke of Denver. Lady Mary Wimsey, sister of the Duke, who was engaged to be married to the deceased, collapsed after giving evidence, and is now lying seriously ill at the Lodge. The Duchess of Denver hastened from town yesterday and was present at the inquest. Full report on p. 12."
"Poor old Gerald!" thought Lord Peter, as he turned to Page 12; "and poor old Mary! I wonder if she really was fond of the fellow. Mother always said not, but Mary never would let on about herself."
The full report began by describing the little village of Riddlesdale, where the Duke of Denver had recently taken a small shooting-box for the season. When the tragedy occurred the Duke had been staying there with a party of guests. In the Duchess's absence Lady Mary Wimsey had acted as hostess. The other guests were Colonel and Mrs. Marchbanks, the Hon. Frederick Arbuthnot, Mr. and Mrs. Pettigrew-Robinson, and the dead man, Denis Cathcart.
The first witness was the Duke of Denver, who claimed to have discovered the body. He gave evidence that he was coming into the house by the conservatory door at three o'clock in the morning of Thursday, October 14th, when his foot struck against something.
He had switched on his electric torch and seen the body of Denis Cathcart at his feet. He had at once turned it over, and seen that Cathcart had been shot in the chest.
He was quite dead. As Denver was bending over the body, he heard a cry in the conservatory, and, looking up, saw Lady Mary Wimsey gazing out horror-struck.
She came out by the conservatory door, and exclaimed at once, "O God, Gerald, you've killed him!" (Sensation.)
The Coroner: "Were you surprised by that remark?"
Duke of D.: "Well, I was so shocked and surprised at the whole thing. I think I said to her, 'Don't look,' and she said, 'Oh, it's Denis! Whatever can have happened? Has there been an accident?' I stayed with the body, and sent her up to rouse the house."
The Coroner: "Did you expect to see Lady Mary Wimsey in the conservatory?"
Duke of D.: "Really, as I say, I was so astonished all round, don't you know, I didn't think about it."
The Coroner: "Do you remember how she was dressed?"
Duke of D.: "I don't think she was in her pyjamas."
(Laughter.) "I think she had a coat on."
The Coroner: "I understand that Lady Mary Wimsey was engaged to be married to the deceased?"
Duke of D.: "Yes."
The Coroner: "He was well known to you?"
Duke of D.: "He was the son of an old friend of my father's; his parents are dead. I believe he lived chiefly abroad. I ran across him during the war, and in 1919 he came to stay at Denver. He became engaged to my sister at the beginning of this year."
The Coroner: "With your consent, and with that of the family?"
Duke of D.: "Oh, yes, certainly."
The Coroner: "What kind of man was Captain Cathcart?"
Duke of D.: "Well-he was a Sahib and all that. I don't know what he did before he joined in 1914. I think he lived on his income; his father was well off. Crack shot, good at games, and so on. I never heard anything against him-till that evening."
The Coroner: "What was that?"
Duke of D.: "Well-the fact is-it was deuced queer, He- If anybody but Tommy Freeborn had said it I should never have believed it." (Sensation.)
The Coroner: "I'm afraid I must ask your grace of what exactly you had to accuse the deceased."
Duke of D.: "Well, I didn't-I don't exactly accuse him. An old friend of mine made a suggestion. Of course I thought it must be all a mistake, so I went to Cathcart, and, to my amazement, he practically admitted it! Then we both got angry, and he told me to go to the devil, and rushed out of the house." (Renewed sensation.)
The Coroner: "When did this quarrel occur?"
Duke of D.: "On Wednesday night. That was the last I saw of him." (Unparalleled sensation.)
The Coroner: "Please, please, we cannot have this disturbance. Now, will your grace kindly give me, as far as you can remember it, the exact history of this quarrel?"
Duke of D.: "Well, it was like this. We'd had a long day on the moors and had dinner early, and about half-past nine we began to feel like turning in. My sister and Mrs. Pettigrew-Robinson toddled on up, and we were havin' a last peg in the billiard-room when Fleming-that's my man-came in with the letters. They come at any old time in the evening, you know, we being two and a half miles from the village. No-I wasn't in the billiard-room at the time-I was lockin' up the [missing]-room. The letter was from an old friend of mine I hadn't seen for years-Tom Freeborn-used to know him at the House-"
The Coroner: "Whose house?"
Duke of D.: "Oh, Christ Church, Oxford. He wrote to say he'd seen the announcement of my sister's engagement in Egypt."
