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On again, off again, good day, bad day. Have lost count what's what because relative warmth in December means dank. I call it a bad day when even the operated knee hurts, which it did today. This may be due to no massage or chiro for ten days, and I hope it is.
I withdraw from reality into books. Largely Mrs. Bradley, though I'm appalled at the fact that apparently when someone dies at a country house, in flipping August already, we just... leave the corpse in the bedroom for a day or two until the coroner can get around to empanelling a jury which will then view the presumably rotting body in situ, while everyone else goes on merrily drinking their martinis and playing tennis. Which surely can't be right?
Otherwise read Moreno-Garcia's Gods of Jade and Shadows, which is as other-worldly as one needs, and have a Wole Soyinka waiting. We draw near the end of borrowing physical books because snow will happen eventually. But I've discovered- to my astonishment- that I can actually read e-books on my phone without pain, or at least, can read Mrs. Bradley.
I withdraw from reality into books. Largely Mrs. Bradley, though I'm appalled at the fact that apparently when someone dies at a country house, in flipping August already, we just... leave the corpse in the bedroom for a day or two until the coroner can get around to empanelling a jury which will then view the presumably rotting body in situ, while everyone else goes on merrily drinking their martinis and playing tennis. Which surely can't be right?
Otherwise read Moreno-Garcia's Gods of Jade and Shadows, which is as other-worldly as one needs, and have a Wole Soyinka waiting. We draw near the end of borrowing physical books because snow will happen eventually. But I've discovered- to my astonishment- that I can actually read e-books on my phone without pain, or at least, can read Mrs. Bradley.
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Omg I never even thought of THAT....
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That seems iffy as well. Especially as the other guests were the ones who moved the body to the bedroom and then merrily started looking for clues themselves before the police arrived.
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(Though, with scene already contaminated, surely putting corpse in something approximating cold storage couldn't really be making things worse?)
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Somehow these Golden Age mysteries have no knowledge of proper forensic procedure, aside from fingerprints. Did they even have a concept of 'contamination of crime scene' then?
Though the part that makes sense to me is the reluctance to treat someone you knew for years, as a corpse, a thing. But still: they're dead and it's August.
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Well, go Lord Peter then. Mitchell's county squirearchy have no such qualms, even though Dame Beatrice is on the spot.
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Neither did the houseguests, evidently.
Tennis and martini
I must get round to Gods of Jade and Shadows.
Re: Tennis and martini
Me, I'd leave, police or no, and I'm amazed the servants didn't either.
Gods... is right up my alley and I'm sad most of her other books seem to all be noir or noir adjacent. Very few people actually engage with the MesoAmerican gods as anything but Yuck.