Death Holds The Key is the second book in the Itinerant Mendicant series by Australian author, Alexander Thorpe. In the spring of 1928, after a full day’s drive from Perth, any nervousness that Detective Constable James Hartley has felt about his first assignment as a detective has morphed into tiredness. And he is fairly sure that, as the junior detective, he is being sent to check out a hoax: a threatening, hatted, cloaked spectre appearing and disappearing inexplicably numerous times.

So when, having collected Hazel O’Donnell at the Kojonup Police station, they arrive at the Tolhurst homestead to hear shots being fired, he is surprised, but ready to act. The patriarch, Fred O’Donnell lies dead on the floor of his study, shot in the chest, the room locked from the inside, the windows firmly latched. Some small items whose meaning isn’t apparent, are folded into a blood-stained note about wrongs being righted, and left on the outside windowsill. There’s no gun in the room. Hazel is sure this must be the work of the mysterious spectre.

Three days on, interviews with family and staff yielding only that Fred O’Donnell was a tight-fisted tyrant, universally despised, so Hartley has resorted to frequenting nearby pubs in the hope of catching sight of the cloaked figure, and finds instead the itinerant mendicant whose reputation for solving crimes has preceded him. Hartley begs for help and, having heard the mysterious story, the friar is intrigued enough to accompany him to Tolhurst.

The friar examines the scene, talks to the family, asks insightful questions, enquires about things that haven’t occurred to Hartley: he’s a keen observer. In Kojonup, they soon get the feeling that “A sort of ambient hatred for Fred O’Donnell seems almost to be an essential part of the town’s fabric.”

The more people they talk to, the more stories they hear about how unpleasant Fred could be, the more people seem to have a motive to shoot the man and Hartley notes that “a surplus of motive muddied the waters even further than a deficit… it wouldn’t have surprised him to learn that the whole household had planned his death in concert.”

The surprise existence of an insurance policy adds intrigue, but it's when the will turns up that they have a bit more to go on…

As Thorpe drip-feeds the details of the spectre’s sightings, the reaction of those who saw him, and the consistent denial by the patriarch of any such figure., some readers might agree with Fred’s widow, who asks if “you intend to have us sit here fearing the worst of all those we hold dear, while you play at dropping crumbs and drumming up suspense?”

But readers wanting action drama should look elsewhere: careful observation and reasoned deduction are what solves this mystery. As fits the era, the dearth of technology necessitates ingenuity and talents of a classic type; communication is often by telegrams and letters, with long waits requiring resigned patience.

What a marvellous tale! Thorpe easily captures both the era and the setting with some superb descriptive prose; his characters are interesting: he gives them subtle humour, wise words and insightful observations. While some may have an idea of the who, the how and why will stump even the most astute reader in a plot that has sufficient intrigue, twists and red herrings to keep the reader guessing to the very last pages. This dose of historical crime fiction is Thorpe’s best yet.