“When the devil was sick, the devil a monk would be.”

Traditional saying (apparently)

Clereforce, “that magnificent country where the West Riding abuts the Pennine Range”, has many superstitions, as local GP Henry Sanderson told his London colleague Richard Vaile. One in particular is at Clere House, where every Lammas Night, a meal is put out for a phantom monk to enjoy. And then he gets a call that Mrs Saint Claire, matriarch of Clere House has had a fall – and you’d never believe it, but it’s Lammas Night!

Waiting outside while Sanderson inspects the body of Mrs Saint Claire, Vaile sees a curtain twitch. Looking through the gap, he sees a monk sitting at a table with a meal in front of him. Well, technically lying face down on the table… because this isn’t a phantom monk. It’s a dead one…

And welcome, dear reader, to the, at time of writing, one and only internet review of When The Devil Was Sick, the fifth title written by Edith Caroline Rivett (aka ECR Lorac) under her Carol Carnac pseudonym. It’s the fifth of six books featuring Inspector Ryvet, a character who dear Edith must have taken an age to think up the name of. Hey, for a while, my great unwritten novel was going to feature Inspector Fuzzledoctor…

UPDATE: It’s been pointed out that a fairly obscure blogger, namely one Martin Edwards, has reviewed the book a few years ago. I’ll have to try harder next time…

And yes, I’ve been to the Bodleian again, to read the books that basically don’t exist in the outside world. At time of writing, there are eight copies of Carnac titles on Abebooks, one of which is a Collins White Circle in dreadful condition for £35, but after that, the prices go higher than Armand Duplantis with an extra-springy pole. The early Carnacs in particular seem to have been published by a mish-mash of publishers – this one was published by Peter Davies, not a publisher I’ve noticed before, so I don’t think they had a massive print run in the first place.

So, was this worth it? Basically, yes. This is a really interesting set-up, and the author does a great job of dealing with a small cast of suspects. It’s one of those dysfunctional family stories – this one’s incredibly dysfunctional as there’s a grandchild who nobody wants to admit is their child! – as the dead monk happens to be a long-lost brother (possibly). I think Carnac could have been a little clearer with exactly who would inherit what to help with the motives, but the plot keeps moving forward. Admittedly, it keeps moving by killing off more members of the family, but it’s a good way to keep the reader interested.

Ryvet is a fine lead – he’s not desperately distinctive, but I was never bored by him. I’m not convinced that the culprit is desperately well clued but the plot is nicely complex and well-constructed. There are some good red herrings – one in particular – and all in all, it was an entertaining read.

There could have been a bit more of the paranormal background – it’s all over the first chapter, but it does fade quite quickly – but Carnac does a really nice job in justifying why the suspect seemed to be acting out an episode of Scooby Doo when he was killed.

Don’t expect a reprint of this any time soon – there are three Carnac ebooks at the moment, all of which are either British Library reprints or blatant pirate copies of the same reprints – but keep hoping. You never know…