'A Pocket Full of Rye' by Agatha Christie

A handful of grain is found in the pocket of a murdered businessman!

Let us explain. Rex Fortescue, king of a financial empire, was sipping tea in his 'counting house' office when he suffered a sudden and agonising death. On later inspection, the pockets of the deceased were found to contain rye grain. What is that all about? It was a second incident, this time in the parlour at his home, which confirmed Jane Marple's suspicion that here she was looking at a case of crime by rhyme!

MY THOUGHTS:

Here is another nursery rhyme themed murder mystery by the queen of crime that made me hum along.

Rex Fortescue, the flabby financier, is first to die, suffering a convulsive fit in his office at work over a cup of tea. Strangely enough, somebody has tipped a handful of rye into his coat pocket. His young and attractive wife, Adele, is murdered next, eating scones and honey at home. In the very same hour, Gladys the maid is strangled out at the clothesline, and the murderer clips a peg onto her nose. 

Young Inspector Neele is on the case, but it takes Miss Marple, Gladys' former employer, to point out to him the 'Sing a Song of Sixpence' pattern in the triple murder.

'The king was in his counting house, counting out his money,

The queen was in the parlour, eating bread and honey,

The maid was in the garden, hanging out the clothes,

When down came a blackbird and pecked off her nose.'

A bit of probing reveals that Fortescue was involved in a scandalous investment with the Blackbird Mines, and may have seekers of retribution on his trail. Somebody pranked him a few months earlier, with blackbirds baked in a pie. It now appears to have been a herald of doom, rather than just a tasteless practical joke. 

Inspector Neele must figure out whether Rex Fortescue's children from his first marriage, who stand to inherit, are above suspicion. His two sons appear to be straight out of the Prodigal Son parable; miserly 'good boy' Percival and likeable, reformed 'bad boy' Lancelot. There is also a daughter, Elaine, two daughters-in-law, a cantankerous old sister-in-law, and Mary Dove, the serene, efficient and all-knowing young housekeeper. 

Miss Marple manages to piece together an audaciously wicked, far-fetched and twisted scenario. 'Wickedness is wickedness and must be punished,' is her refrain more than once, suggesting that Dame Agatha herself really meant it. The killer is definitely a total arse.

My favourite line is Inspector Neele asking Miss Marple, 'How do you think that I'm ever going to be able to prove all this?' Well may he ask. However, Agatha Christie sprinkles a light dusting of tiny clues for us readers, but they could simply be read over as descriptive writing. Especially since we have to sift them out of all the equally scattered red herrings. It was well done.

There are dated aspects evident about 1953, when this was published. It annoys me that if a girl is regarded as 'plain' (or rather doesn't have conventional beauty), then people assume the men in their lives must have an ulterior motive in pursuing a relationship. This is true of both Elaine Fortescue and Gladys Martin. It's insulting to the girls, possibly even more insulting to the guys, to be thought so shallow, and makes me cringe at the cynicism of any character who voices such a thought.

Hopefully we've moved on a bit.

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