Spoiling for Murder

The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher: A Shocking Murder and the Undoing of a Great Victorian Detective by Kate Summerscale
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

This book was soooo good!  I even read the footnotes!  Can you have spoilers in a non-fiction book?  If you think so, I recommend you stop reading right now!

I mean, it's not as if the alleged solution isn't telegraphed to you right on the cover, now that I look at it.  I'd sussed it by page 5 and a quick look through the photographs seemed to confirm it, so I guess it isn't meant to be that much of a secret.  It is still a mystery, and we'll Never Know the Truth, but we can get all gurgly while guessing (or maybe it's the high-test tea I've been drinking lately).


Summerscale certainly did her homework and shows the math.  She catalogs the influences of the murder on literature as well as the real life detecting, which became a passion for the population of England at that time, totally captivated as they were by the particulars.  Our Mr. Whicher walks into the investigation weeks late, but seems to pinpoint the most likely scenario immediately.  Unfortunately, he is unable to prove it or to pressure his suspect into breaking down and confessing.


There is no solution for five years, and then we have a bare-bones confession exculpating everyone else in a hundred mile radius.  The confessed killer is spared the death penalty by Queen Victoria and, despite continual applications for early parole, serves the entire life sentence and goes on to lead what appears to be a blameless life.  But, was there an accomplice?  Was the father infected early on with syphilis causing the madness in his first wife, the deaths of many of their children, and the blindness and early demise of his second wife?  Was the atmosphere in this family as poisonous as it would seem to need to be to cause the brutal murder of a young child?  Or was this all just the fevered imaginings of your typical angst-ridden teens?


I have one quibble with one of the photos that was represented as a mosaic of a cherub with the face of a young child as made by the confessed killer.  As one who pretends to artistic abilities, I know that I tend to use my own face and body, consciously or unconsciously, when creating the human form.  And if you look at the mosaic and then its creator, you will see the resemblance.  Oh, it would be nice if it were the head of the murdered child, especially because it looks decapitated, but I believe it looks ever so much like Constance.


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