Tea on Sunday

by Lettice Cooper

Synopsis:

On a cold winter's afternoon, Alberta Mansbridge waits at a table set with teacups for eight, musing over her guests. The ex-jailbird Barry, the nephew and his ghastly new flibbertijibbet of a wife, the Italian playboy, the old friend with whom she had so recently fallen out... Alberta returns upstairs to get herself ready. When the guests arrive, the door is locked and there is no response to their knocking. Alberta has been murdered, and with no sign of robbery or break in, the killer must have been somebody she let into the house herself - somebody who was due for tea on Sunday. Inspector Corby is soon on the case, faced with eight suspects without a concrete alibi between them - and a raft of motives steeped in mystery which will take him from London back to Alberta's roots in Hithamroyd, Yorkshire in search of the truth. First published in 1973 but written in the vintage mystery mode, Lettice Cooper uses her literary sensibilities to deliver a strong detective story with a well-brewed psychological depth.

Lettice Cooper’s Tea on Sunday is only from the ’70s, but the introduction is right: it certainly feels like it fits within the British Library Crime Classics series, and that might well because of the author’s generation. There are hints here and there of a slightly more modern world than the one the likes of Lorac, Sayers and Christie were writing about, but for the most part, it’s of a piece with them. I did find it fascinating to learn about Lettice Cooper and, for example, her work toward establishing the Public Lending Right (which pays authors for their work when borrowed from libraries in the UK).

As a story, we have a closed circle of suspects: eight visitors who were invited for tea with the victim, the only ones she was likely to have let in (due to her suspicious nature). A former friend, a young Italian she was patronising, a former convict, her nephew and his wife, her doctor, a man who worked for her father, and a solicitor who helped manage her affairs. Few of them stand to benefit from her death, leaving the motive feeling tangled — but Corby, the police detective, methodically works away at it.

A good chunk of the book is spent introducing the suspects and their view of the crime through his interviews with them, with some glimpses into Corby’s methods, attitudes and home life: it felt like a glimpse of a series detective who could have been pretty solid, somewhat in the Inspector Macdonald line (E.C.R. Lorac’s detective).

As with many classic stories, there are some… questionable attitudes, with the victim’s nephew and his wife having what looks pretty much like an abusive relationship (and characters seeming to feel that if the nephew would just beat her properly he might do better). That part is a bit unpleasant, though it’s not enormously prominent.

In the end, the solution doesn’t come as a surprise, because you’re honestly shown all the clues as you go, and they point clearly at one of two people. It feels less like a puzzle and more a bunch of character sketches wrapped around a mystery story. I quite enjoyed it for what it was, but those looking for a tricky mystery with a twist might be disappointed.

Rating: 3/5