Have His Carcase

Have His Carcase

Dorothy L. Sayers

www.hodder.co.uk

First published in Great Britain in 1932 by Victor Gollancz Ltd

First published in paperback by New English Library in 1974

Hodder and Stoughton: An Hachette Livre UK Company

Introduction © Susan Elizabeth George 2003

The right of Dorothy L. Sayers to be identified as the Author

of the Work has been asserted in accordance with the

Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,

stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any

means without the prior written permission of the publisher,

nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other

than that in which it is published and without a similar

condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

All characters in this publication are fictitious

and any resemblance to real persons,

living or dead, is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title

is available from the British Library

Epub ISBN 978 1 848 94374 2

Book ISBN 978 0 450 02712 3

Hodder and Stoughton

An Hachette Livre UK Company

338 Euston Road

London NW1 3BH

www.hodder.co.uk

NOTE

In
The Five Red Herrings
, the plot was invented to fit a real locality; in this

book, the locality has been invented to fit the plot. Both places and people are

entirely imaginary.

Al the quotations at the chapter heads have been taken from T. L. Beddoes.

My grateful acknowledgements are due to Mr John Rhode, who gave me

generous help with al the hard bits.

Dorothy L. Sayers

CONTENTS

I. The Evidence of the Corpse

I . The Evidence of the Road

I I. The Evidence of the Hotel

IV. The Evidence of the Razor

V. The Evidence of the Betrothed

VI. The Evidence of the First Barber

VI . The Evidence of the Gigolos

VI I. The Evidence of the Second Barber

IX. The Evidence of the Flat-Iron

X. The Evidence of the Police-Inspector

XI. The Evidence of the Fisherman

XI . The Evidence of the Bride’s Son

XI I. Evidence of Trouble Somewhere

XIV. The Evidence of the Third Barber

XV. The Evidence of the Ladylove and the Landlady

XVI. The Evidence of the Sands

XVI . The Evidence of the Money

XVI I. The Evidence of the Snake

XIX. The Evidence of the Disguised Motorist

XX. The Evidence of the Lady in the Car

XXI. The Evidence of the Inquest

XXI . The Evidence of the Mannequin

XXI I. The Evidence of the Theatrical Agent

XXIV. The Evidence of the L.C.C. Teacher

XXV. The Evidence of the Dictionary

XXVI. The Evidence of the Bay Mare

XXVI . The Evidence of the Fisherman’s Grandson

XXVI I. The Evidence of the Cipher

XXIX. The Evidence of the Letter

XXX. The Evidence of the Gentleman’s Gentleman

XXXI. The Evidence of the Haberdasher’s Assistant

XXXI . The Evidence of the Family Tree

XXXI I. Evidence of What Should Have Happened

XXXIV. Evidence of What Did Happen

Lord Peter Wimsey Title

Lord Peter Wimsey Biography

I came to the wonderful detective novels of Dorothy L. Sayers in a way that

would probably make that distinguished novelist spin in her grave. Years ago,

actor Ian Carmichael starred in the film productions of a good chunk of them,

which I eventualy saw on my public television station in Huntington Beach,

California. I recal the host of the show reciting the impressive, salient details of

Sayers’ life and career – early female graduate of Oxford, translator of Dante,

among other things – and I was much impressed. But I was even more

impressed with her delightful sleuth Lord Peter Wimsey, and I soon sought out

her novels.

Because I had never been – and stil am not today – a great reader of

detective fiction, I had not heard of this marvelous character. I quickly became

swept up in everything about him: from his foppish use of language to his family

relations. In very short order, I found myself thoroughly attached to Wimsey, to

his calm and omnipresent manservant Bunter, to the Dowager Duchess of

Denver (was ever there a more deliciously aliterative title?), to the stuffy Duke

and the unbearable Duchess of Denver, to Viscount St. George, to Charles

Parker, to Lady Mary. . . . In Dorothy L. Sayers’ novels, I found the sort of

main character I loved when I turned to fiction: someone with a ‘real’ life,

someone who wasn’t just a hero who conveniently had no relations to mess up

the workings of the novelist’s plot.

Dorothy L. Sayers, as I discovered, had much to teach me both as a reader

and as a future novelist. While many detective novelists from the Golden Age of

mystery kept their plots pared down to the requisite crime, suspects, clues, and

red herrings, Sayers did not limit herself to so limited a canvas in her work. She

saw the crime and its ensuing investigation as merely the framework for a much

larger story, the skeleton – if you wil – upon which she could hang the muscles,

organs, blood vessels and physical features of a much larger tale. She wrote

what I like to cal the tapestry novel, a book in which the setting is realised

(from Oxford, to the dramatic coast of Devon, to the flat bleakness of the

Fens), in which throughout both the plot and the subplots the characters serve

functions surpassing that of mere actors on the stage of the criminal

investigation, in which themes are explored, in which life and literary symbols

are used, in which alusions to other literature abound. Sayers, in short, did

what I cal ‘taking no prisoners’ in her approach to the detective novel. She did

not write down to her readers; rather, she assumed that her readers would rise

to her expectations of them.

I found in her novels a richness that I had not previously seen in detective

fiction. I became absorbed in the careful application of detail that characterized

her plots: whether she was educating me about bel ringing in
The Nine Tailors
,

about the unusual uses of arsenic in
Strong Poison
, about the beauties of

architectural Oxford in
Gaudy Night
. She wrote about everything from

cryptology to vinology, making unforgettable that madcap period between wars

that marked the death of an overt class system and heralded the beginning of an

insidious one.

What continues to be remarkable about Sayers’ work, however, is her

wilingness to explore the human condition. The passions felt by characters

created eighty years ago are as real today as they were then. The motives

behind people’s behavior are no more complex now than they were in 1923

when Lord Peter Wimsey took his first public bow. Times have changed,

rendering Sayers’ England in so many ways unrecognizable to today’s reader.

But one of the true pleasures inherent to picking up a Sayers novel now is to

see how the times in which we live alter our perceptions of the world around us,

while doing nothing at al to alter the core of our humanity.

When I first began my own career as a crime novelist, I told people that I

would rest content if my name was ever mentioned positively in the same

sentence as that of Dorothy L. Sayers. I’m pleased to say that that occurred

with the publication of my first novel. If I ever come close to offering the reader

the details and delights that Sayers offered in her Wimsey novels, I shal

consider myself a success indeed.

The reissuing of a Sayers novel is an event, to be sure. As successive

generations of readers welcome her into their lives, they embark upon an

unforgettable journey with an even more unforgettable companion. In time of

dire and immediate trouble, one might wel cal upon a Sherlock Holmes for a

quick solution to one’s trials. But for the balm that reassures one about

surviving the vicissitudes of life, one could do no better than to anchor onto a

Lord Peter Wimsey.

Elizabeth George

Huntington Beach, California

May 27, 2003

I

THE EVIDENCE OF THE CORPSE

‘The track was slippery with spouting blood.’

Rodolph

Thursday, 18 June

The best remedy for a bruised heart is not, as so many people seem to think,

repose upon a manly bosom. Much more efficacious are honest work, physical

activity, and the sudden acquisition of wealth. After being acquitted of

murdering her lover, and, indeed, in consequence of that acquittal, Harriet Vane

found al three specifics abundantly at her disposal; and although Lord Peter

Wimsey, with a touching faith in tradition, persisted day in and day out in

presenting the bosom for her approval, she showed no inclination to recline

upon it.

Work she had in abundance. To be tried for murder is a fairly good

advertisement for a writer of detective fiction. Harriet Vane thrilers were

booming. She had signed up sensational contracts in both continents, and found

herself, consequently, a very much richer woman than she had ever dreamed of

becoming. In the interval between finishing
Murder by Degrees
and embarking

on
The Fountain-Pen Mystery
, she had started off on a solitary walking-tour:

plenty of exercise, no responsibilities and no letters forwarded. The time was

June, the weather, perfect; and if she now and again gave a thought to Lord

Peter Wimsey diligently ringing up an empty flat, it did not trouble her, or cause

her to alter her steady course along the south-west coast of England.

On the morning of the 18th June, she set out from Lesston Hoe with the

intention of walking along the cliffs to Wilvercombe, sixteen miles away. Not

that she particularly looked forward to Wilvercombe, with its seasonal

population of old ladies and invalids and its subdued attempts at the gay life,

seeming somehow themselves al a little invalid and old-ladyish. But the town