Golden Age Classic Detective Novel

 

A classic mystery from 1929: The Duke of York’s Steps by author Henry Wade, real name: Sir Henry Aubrey-Fletcher, 6th Baronet,(1887–1969). 

A bit of the plot: A gentleman walking in London falls down a steep stone staircase. His legacy, as distributed by his will, narrowly rescues his step-son from financial ruin, as he bequeaths a large sum of money to the apparently desperate young man. However, something is suspicious: Inspector Poole, a young policeman investigates persistently until the truth comes out, which of course I won’t tell you.

The novel includes many characters of interest, including a Jewish banker — friend of the victim; his two step-children who will inherit his fortune, a sales woman in a perfume shop — a perfumed handkerchief is a big clue; and some interesting members of the police force. 

The plot is very involved, The details of the characters’ lives are very 1920s! A few satisfying quotes about what the upper classes drank:

“‘My dear fellow, I’m so sorry—inexcusable of me! Have a glass of port …—no?—a cigar, anyhow—Corona Corona, handpicked by myself, every one of ’em.’” (p. 30) 

“‘Take a chair, Inspector,’ said the lawyer, pointing to the least worn of the two. ‘You’ve come just in time for a glass of sherry.’ He opened an oak corner cupboard and brought out a cut-glass decanter, two tulip sherry-glasses, and a tin of biscuits. ‘Amontillado,’ he said. ‘Sound stuff. Not to be found everywhere in these days.’” (p.72)

The detective, whose food and drink are less upper-class, uses his mealtime for reviewing cases: 

“Without revealing his professional identity, he made a point of getting into conversation with the proprietors and waiters, and sometimes with the habitués of these places, with the result that he had picked up a good deal of valuable knowledge about London life, and had made a number of potentially useful friends. On this occasion, he made his way to the ‘Grand Couronne’ in Greek Street, Soho, and after ordering himself a special risotto and a large glass of Münchener—which had to be fetched from ‘over the way,’ the restaurant possessing no licence—set himself to review the progress he had made.” (p. 79)