The Welfare of the Dead by
Lee Jackson
hbk out April 05
Published by Heinemann
at £12.99
Even in the 1870s it is impossible to escape the morose but intuitive Detective
Inspector and the less-than-brilliant Sergeant who is the butt of his superior's heavy-
handed humour. Sigh! But in fact Detective Inspector Decimus Webb of Scotland
Yard, despite treating the perfectly ordinary Sergeant Bartleby with unnecessary
scorn, is not an unacceptable manifestation of the species.
In this, the 2nd novel in this series, Webb and Bartleby are called to investigate the
murders of 2 young ladies of easy virtue; these are followed by a 3rd, and then, within
striking distance of the dénouement, one of the male characters is the final victim of
the murderer. There are 3 prime candidates for this rôle, and the narrative alternates
between an anonymous first-person exposition (one assumes from a prison-cell, and
one is right) and the present-tense unfolding of events. This works quite well and,
proceeding on the assumption that things are never quite as they seem, the guessing
continues until virtually the end of the novel. The murders have their roots in events
which took place a quarter of a century earlier, and nineteenth century Victorian
morals and mores compound the effects of an unsavoury piece of subterfuge.
The period detail is interesting, especially the extravagant world of the Victorian cult
of death and the concept of an entire department store ("Woodrow's General
Mourning Warehouse") devoted to the apparel and accoutrements of mourning. The
general atmosphere is authentically Dickensian (or maybe Holmesian?), helped
greatly by "London particulars" (thick and filthy brown fogs), hansom cabs and even
the odd crossing sweeper. So, a novel using more than a few clichés, but an
enjoyable read.
The Welfare of the Dead by
Lee Jackson
