The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher: A Shocking Murder and the Undoing of a Great Victorian Detective

The publisher’s description sums this book up neatly and accurately, but it doesn’t convey what a compelling story it tells. It’s a fascinating and gruesome murder mystery/detective story, with well-drawn characters and a focus on the relevant details, but all soundly documented by primary sources, including police and court documents, correspondence of the people involved, newspaper articles, and similar historic documents. It also looks at the popular reaction to the case and the great influence it had on the creation and rise in popularity of detective fiction. Everything is tied up neatly by the end, but it ends up being a rather melancholy tale when all is said and done.

Summerscale does a wonderful job of presenting show more interesting and relevant details without bogging down the history with a lot of boring facts. I typically hate reading history, so maybe this style of telling would disappoint historians, but I found it very engaging, like reading fiction. The notes (aside from a few explanatory notes at the ends of chapters) are endnotes, so I could flip to the back if I wanted to see her sources, or ignore them until a convenient lull in the story. So I guess I can tolerate history after all: just give me a lurid story told like fiction, with historic details inconspicuously tucked away out of sight. show less

This is a most interesting book, especially for lovers of detective fiction, and anyone interested in Victorian society. But be aware: the eponymous murder is really more of a hook on which Summerscale slings a veritable wardrobe of Victoriana concerning the burgeoning vocation of the detective, and its manifestations in popular print and culture - rather than the irresistible narrative the book promises.

Young Saville Kent is taken from his bed one night, and brutally murdered. The locks on the house point to one of its occupants as the culprit. Is it one of Saville's abused step-siblings? The lascivious nursemaid? Or perhaps the Master of the house, who already has more than a few skeletons rattling around in the closet?

It's an show more undeniably catchy set-up, and it seems almost too good to be fact, echoing the plots of dozens of novels from The Moonstone to Edwin Drood. Toss in a dynamic detective who always gets his man - or woman - and all the ingredients for a cracking tale are present.

And yet, reality has a way of complicating things, and Summerscale is too much of a scholar to glide over the unknown or elide the inconvenient. This means our narrative and the characters driving it quickly become subservient to the vagaries of history.

The first casuality is the characters - because they aren't characters, they're people, and Summerscale, frustatingly but in many ways admirably, refuses to be drawn on their thoughts or motivations. Shortly to follow is the case itself, which starts out like a cobblestoned thoroughfare and quickly turns into a winding country lane, proceeding in fits and starts and disappearing altogether in a forest of Victorian detail.

Make no mistake: The detail is in the main absolutely fascinating. Victorian society is the progenitor of so much we take for granted in the west, but at the same time it can seem like a foreign country. Summerscale's research is simply incredible; she digs up the most obscure primary sources she can find, and it gives the book and her conjectures a bullet-proof aura of credibility. There are gems like this on practically every page.

But, with its complicated, messy narrative, The Suspicions of Mr Whicher can proceed slowly at times. This is _not_ a novel; it's a treatise on Victorian culture with a unique framing device. As long as you keep that in mind, you well be well rewarded by this book. show less

A brutal, seemingly motiveless murder and the attempts of an exceptional detective to solve the crime are the crux of Kate Summerscale's compelling book ,The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher. In the early hours of June 29th, 1860, four year old Saville Kent is horribly slain and stuffed down the hole of the outdoor lavatory. Although the family is not liked among the close community, the suspicion falls on the members of the household, including the maids, governesses and the Kents themselves. When the case becomes unsolvable for the local magistrates, Detective-Inspector Jonathan Whicher is dispatched to solve the crime that has so puzzled and horrified the town. What follows are the attempts of a genius detective to solve an unlikely crime. show more Through missing evidence, hazy claims of madness and adultery, and a public appetite for all the gory details of the murder, Jack Whicher becomes embroiled in the case that ultimately costs him his reputation and public regard.

Whicher is the ultimate detective. Able to accurately pinpoint suspects using scant information and relying heavily on his own hunches, he rises through the ranks of law enforcement rapidly, eventually leading the first group of detectives in history. He is the model upon which the first fictional detectives are based, and his prowess and skill are fully highlighted in this book. Throughout the story, Whicher isn't afraid to pose unpopular speculations, and though the public denounces his hypothesis, he steadfastly works to bring the killer to justice. I found him to be a remarkable man whose abilities were far beyond the time in which he lived, far beyond what we even now expect a detective to be.

One of the most intriguing things about this book was the public involvement and mania regarding this case. From the adulation of the detective prototype by the likes of Charles Dickens and Edgar Allen Poe, to the involvement of the public in their mass attendance of the trial, the community's hunger for this case was arresting in it's detail. Many of the townspeople wrote letters speculating who the killer might be; one man even falsely confessed to the crime. It was very ironic that the public at that time was so negatively disposed to the idea of surveillance and detection. The idea that people could be spied upon and that their private homes and their proclivities could be brought into the open was extremely uncomfortable for them to imagine. Many looked upon the detective and his colleagues as unsavory operatives waiting to invade the sanctity of their private lives and abodes. It seemed as though they were eager to find out the secrets of the Kent family while shunning the detection that brought these facts to light. It must have been a fine line to walk for Detective Whicher, whose successes only compounded the community's distrust.

The book was meticulously researched and heavily laden with facts. Not only was I privy to the social customs of the time, but also to other murder investigations, detective literature of the time, and facts about the principal characters' private lives. The book was at once enveloping and confidential, while still being surprising and unconventional. The suspense of the story was meted out in an atypical way, and although it ended in a conundrum that couldn't be solved, it was still very satisfying. The one quibble I had with the book was the tremendous quantity of facts throughout. At times it was a little overwhelming. Later chapters seemed to be balanced better and I began to see that the story may have sacrificed some of its urgency by displacing its factual density. The inclusion of photographs and maps was also an illuminating and welcome touch.

This book was a very rich and intricate look at a crime that may not be familiar to many, but whose implications and originality have forever shaped the way crimes are handled today. An interesting approach to the crime novel and an enlightening picture of times past. show less

If you have read Wilkie Collins' The Moonstone, you have encountered, in the person of Sergeant Cuff, Detective-Inspector Jonathan Whicher of Scotland Yard. In other fiction of the period, you may well have found echoes of the murder case about which Ms. Summerscale writes.

In the early hours of June 29, 1860, in the country house of Road Hill, near Trowbridge, England, a three-year-old boy named Saville Kent was spirited from his crib and murdered, his body found the next day at the bottom of the privy. When, after two weeks, the local police were, as Sherlock Holmes would have said, "baffled", they called in Scotland Yard, which sent DI Whicher. All signs suggested that the murderer must have been someone resident in the house. Then, show more on July 20, Whicher convinced the local magistrates to issue a warrant for the arrest of Constance Kent, the child's half-sister. But after a hearing to determine whether there was sufficient evidence to charge her, Constance was released. On October 1, at the behest of a solicitor who headed a commission investigating the murder, the nursemaid, Elizabeth Gough, was arrested, but the upshot was the same.

The public was fascinated by the case, and everyone fancied himself Whicher's rival in detection. Fingers pointed at the nursemaid, at the child's half-siblings, even at the child's father. Theories suggested adultery and madness. Newspapers alternately and variously supported Inspector Whicher's actions and attacked them. And it would not be until years later, with a confession, that the murder would be solved (though, even then, questions arose as to the reliability or complete truthfulness of that confession).

Why did this case arouse so much interest, so much public passion and debate and involvement? There were many reasons. The crime itself struck at the most private, protected place of an Englishman: his home. The investigation necessitated prying into a family's intimate secrets, and, worse, that prying was done into an upper-middle-class family by a man of the working class. Detectives were something new in England, and the English weren't quite sure they liked the idea.

Summerscale's great strength here is the way she interweaves the story of the murder with threads about English society in 1860. It's a fascinating story in itself, but is made far more nuanced by the way in which Summerscale relates it to the developments in England at large. I will say that I have seen at least one review of this book that complains that has "too much detail", and doesn't read sufficiently like a story. Hello? It's non-fiction, people! Frankly, I was rather impressed at how Summerscale was able to incorporate what was, in effect, a study of societal mores into the discussion of the murder case, and still make the book flow like a good novel without jettisoning scholarship.

(A note on notes: this book was extensively researched and, while endnotes are given for each chapter, Summerscale has also indicated "main sources" for groups of chapters. My one criticism of these notes is that, rather than having numbered endnotes, there are simply page references with the beginning of a sentence quoted. What's wrong with a superscript number and a corresponding endnote ((though a footnote would be preferable))? I do not understand why editors expect readers to be constantly flipping to the back of a book to see if there's a note or notes. I don't know if this is generally a choice of the author or of the editors, but I wish it would stop.) show less

En verano de 1860, la sociedad inglesa de la época se ve inmersa en el escándalo del asesinato de Saville Kent de 5 años de edad, en un principio la investigación es llevada a cabo por la policía local, sin embargo y debido al tamaño del crimen se solicitó la ayuda de investigadores de Scotland Yard

Kate Summerscale, hace un trabajo realmente impecable y ciertamente impresionante sobre este caso, nos muestra a detalle todo lo relacionado con el crimen, desde lo que se decía en la prensa, documentos guardados por la policía en el expediente del caso, cartas y resúmenes escritas por el investigador principal, Jack Whicher, todo lo dicho en interrogatorios y juicios llevados a cabo en la época sobre este caso.

Pero no se show more detiene en eso, Summerscale también nos entrega una pintura de la sociedad de la Inglaterra victoriana, como vivían, bajo que esquemas religiosos y sociales se manejaban de tal forma en que se pueda poner en contexto todo el escenario que se movió durante el tiempo que duró la investigación y el juicio en donde Whicer presenta a su sospechoso declarándolo culpable de asesinato y que al final termina en una absolución (aclaro que este no es el final ni del libro ni del caso, así que no estoy haciendo spoiler), ante este hecho, la autora nos presenta la forma en que reaccionó en su momento toda la sociedad inglesa, contra la policía, contra la autoridad, contra la familia afectada que además era burguesa y que desata, entre otras muchas cosas, cartas entre Charles Dickens y Wilkie Collins comentando este tema.

Incita, además inspiración de varios libros, que en ese entonces se ponía de moda, así pues, La piedra lunar de Wilkie Collins está inspirada completamente en este caso, así como la última obra no terminada de Dickens.

Pero no conforme con todo esto, la autora nos regala en que termina el caso, que sucede en la vida de cada uno de los actores, familia, investigadores y sospechosos.

Al principio no estaba segura de sí me gustaba lo que leía porque ciertamente esperaba un libro donde se novelaba el caso verídico que se presenta, en cambio he recibido un tipo ensayo donde se plantean hechos duros y puros, todo enmarcado en un estilo costumbrista, al final debo decir que este libro me ha dejado un extraordinario sabor de boca, no solo por lo que cuenta, que ya es muy interesante, si no por la manera en que lo hace, bien hecho, bien escrito, pulcramente narrado, donde todo está perfectamente explicado y con un ritmo bastante bueno, pero además de todo eso documentado de una manera impecable e impresionante.

He leído varios libros tanto de Dickens como de Collins, pero no he leído la piedra lunar y ahora casi me parece un libro obligado, con esto además aclaro que estos no fueron los únicos escritores de la época a los que les llegó la inspiración basándose en este caso, porque hay que decirlo este caso presenta a un tipo de policía que se convirtió en prototipo, fue un caso de homicidio realmente espectacular (para quienes amamos la novela negra), tan intrigante como interesante, así pues, a todos los escritores de novela de policiaca de la época, se les hicieron los dientes largos, el que no tomó el caso criminal, tomo la personalidad del policía o tomo la personalidad de los miembros de la familia o de los principales sospechosos para escribir sus libros, no solo Dickens y Collins, hablamos de Conan Doyle, de Stevenson y de algunos más que son mencionados en esta obra.

Un libro digno de leerse, realmente interesante y bien muy bien llevado a puerto show less

one of my many peculiarities is that i'll take the building blocks of a genre almost any day over what they eventually built towards. for example, i've very much found myself drawn to pre-1930 science fiction almost out of inherent awkwardness but also out of fascination of seeing conventions slowly take form and develop rather than be wearily retrodden for the umpteenth time. crime fiction is a bit of a misnomer within that though. i came to crime fiction as a teenage because i liked the campion tv series and fancied reading some of the originals, and also - like a lot of slightly awkward teenage boys whose favourite doctor who stories included "the talons of weng chiang" - because i'd been fully immersed in the worlds of sherlock show more holmes since before i could ever remember. i've come back regularly to those foundation works though, especially of late. when i read the howard haycraft book on the history of the crime novel and also t j binyon's masterpiece, i particularly found that shadowy, early world of crime fiction - before it reached it's sort of commercial and popular peak with the golden age and then moved into umpteen million different directions, with that orginal format atrophying into the dreaded world of the cosy crime novel - fascinating. partly because i recognised a lot of it from my dabbling in holmes and holmesiana, but also because here was a world where the cliches *hadn't* been discovered yet to be flogged to death

this last year i've read more than i can care to remember of the likes of victor whitechurch, baroness orczy and countless other short stories in rivals of sherlock holmes styled collections. like my other beloved genre of the period - ghost stories - some have creaked, some have shown early promise and then withered away to nothing, while others have been frankly startlingly brilliant. there's something eternally fascinating about the victorian era for me, in terms of art and literature and even just the people themselves. this time in british history where people were beginning to get almost scared by developments in science and technology and almost clung, desperately to mysteries - be it supernatural or psychological. certainities seem to have scared the people of the mid nineteenth century more than we can ever really understand now. and i think crime fiction has a lot to do with that. the point of this, is that i've just finished reading kate summerscale's phenomenal "the suspicions of mr whicher", the history of the infamous 1860 road hill house murder, and the most fascinating element of it to me - other than it's dominance in so much of crime fiction to come - is how little the general public wanted the certainty of the actual solution of the crime to come out. inspector jack whicher's solution to the crime was roundly mocked and derided, the previously much admired policeman, especially by charles dickens and wilkie collins, had a career pretty much in tatters and even when whicher was proved to be right, no one seemed to want to believe it. it's fascinating to see how many innordinately complex and convuluted solutions the public - and, it must be said, authors such as dickens - were prepared to accept rather than the awful reality of the case. and even when the truth was discovered, you get the feeling that there was a hint of... disappointment? this mystery had been solved and the solution was found wanting. certainly the myriad creative works the case would inspire would almost unanimously reject the real story and go back to the favoured complicated pet theories of adultery and dark goings on with the hired help

to be honest, no ammount of puffery and flummery from me can do this book justice. summerscale's brilliance is that she deals with the murder with the same simplicity and keen eye for detail that she so obviously admires in her titular hero, whicher. whicher is something of an enigma - no photos remain, his back story remains shadowy despite summerscale's obviously dogged research, but he was roundly admired by many before the road hill case and elements of his professional manner have, as summerscale points out, become something of the psychological make up of almost every detective since: quiet, unassuming, melancholy, keen eyed, quick witted and solitary. he became the template for detective sergeant cuff, the hero of one of the first great british crime novels, "the moonstone" by wilkie collins and he also was borrowed from by dickens' to create "bleak house"'s inspector bucket, although that was mainly a tribute to whicher's one time boss charley field. summerscale also points out that the inherent distrust of the police that seemed to develop from the unpopularity of whicher's solution to the crime - one that *really* seemed to grip the whole country - led to the dominance of the professional amateur set by the sherlock holmes stories, and the police as well meaning dunderheads

you are frankly never ceasingly amazed by the amount of popular culture that this case seemed to inspire. dickens, collins, henry james, "lady audley's secret"... i had no idea that "the christmas party" segment of "dead of night", one of my very favourite films of all time (and certainly the most terrifying), was inspired by this case. even golden age detective hack writer john rhodes wrote a version of the story. when you start to look at the frenzy surrounding this you are firstly yet AGAIN reminded there is nothing new under the sun (the ignorance of much of the general populus, the whipping up of popular sentiment by the press) and then amazed by how many of the cliches of the crime genre start here: the country house; dark secrets in family histories; the importance of motive; the lost evidence; stupid local police; local colour. it's all here and it was all real. and, as with so many books i've read lately, the truth of the story is even more striking than the fiction it inspired. dear god, the case even touches on the tichborne claimant. summerscale's true genius is tying up all these loose ends, tidying them up and then revealing the wider, broader picture of a fascinating period of british history. i cannot recommend this book enough show less

This is really interesting, and really very difficult to classify. It's not a novel, as the events described are real, however, it is written in the style of detective fiction, with facts being unearthed as you go along. It's also social history, commenting on the state of policing, justice, criminality and prisons of the time. But then again, it runs as an early history of detective fiction itself, showing how many novels of the time set the trend for detectives to come, and how much of that style is based on this case. All in all, it's a fascinating book. The murder is one that shocked the Victorian world by undermining the ideal of family as the murder was committed by one of the family. but who? Mr Whicher had his suspiscions, but show more they were unproven at the time, and remained suspicions until one of the family confessed. However, even that confession leaves you slightly unsure that this is the entire truth.

And now re-read for bookclub. It's still interesting. Knowing the ending does reduce the tension within the story - you know Whicher is right, whereas on first read you don't know that for sure. It's a well written book that contains a lot of detail and bears a re-read well. show less