Just Finished Reading: The 12.30 From Croydon by Freeman Wills Crofts (FP: 1934) [349pp] 

Like many people, Charles Swinburn was struggling with the downturn in business. Despite putting his own money into the firm for some months now, essentially keeping things afloat as he waited for better times ahead, the failure of the recent contract bid was the final straw. He knew that if he didn’t do something, something drastic, then the engineering concern he had inherited from his father would go under. Swallowing his pride, Charles made his way to see his uncle, who was rich, retired and in increasingly ill health. Making his case he asked for something his uncle could hardly refuse – an advance on his inheritance, a few thousand pounds to get him through the year and, possibly, into the next one. On hearing him out, his uncle Andrew Crowther sneered at his failure of a nephew but, reluctantly, handed over a thousand pounds. It was nowhere near enough. It would extend the business lifeline for a month or two, no more. There was, Charles was convinced, only one way forward. A way to save the business and the livelihoods of his workforce – Andrew Crowther would have to die and soon. Of course, Charles wasn’t an idiot. He couldn’t just kill his uncle and hope to get away with it. He would have to plan things carefully, very carefully.... 

I’ve been meaning to read more of the British Library Crime Classic series for a while now. I’m not 100% sure why I decided to start with this one but I certainly wasn’t disappointed with my choice. Told from the murderer’s point of view (almost) throughout, this was a fascinating look at the thought processes and justifications of someone who has decided on a course of action despite its difficulties and despite the fact that murder was involved. I was intrigued at how Charles, repeatedly, either didn’t see less murderous alternatives staring him in the face or dismissed them once he had decided on his original plan. I must admit though, his plan was very good! Unfortunately, the police in the guise of Inspector French of Scotland Yard were very good too (this was his 11th fictional outing). 

As always with classic novels, or indeed any work of fiction from past times, you are presented with (most probably unintentional) insights into the world them came from – in this case Britain in the early 1930’s. Not only do we see the hardships of the Depression and the anxieties caused by it, but we also see aspects of the British class system, how its transport infrastructure worked, the way things were financed, how information was disseminated nationally, legal codes and much else – all in all fascinating stuff (at least for me). Although ‘slow’ by more modern standards, this was an absolute delight to read. I found myself absorbed into Charles’ world almost as if I was sitting on his shoulder watching him make poor decision after poor decision on the way to becoming a murderer. Quite brilliant and highly recommended for all fans of British classic crime fiction.  

I did though, being the pedant that I am well known to be, have a (very) minor issue with the cover. The design is from a travel poster for flights from London to the Isle of Wight in a small light aircraft. The murder itself takes place on a flight from London (Croydon [GRASS!] airfield) in a NAMED aircraft [back in those days international flights were still so rare that airliners had individual names!]. Being ME, I looked it up. The name of the airliner was Hengist (as in Hengist and Horsa of Saxon fame) and is pictured below – yes, that’s the actual aircraft the victim boarded in the book and is very clearly nothing like the aircraft on the cover. LOL.