The third novel in the Flaxborough series, I've always thought that it was here that Colin Watson declared his hand and intentions most firmly. Everything about this novel is slightly wacky, very English in humour and stylings, and slyly clever.

As you will get from the opening line of the blurb:

"The gripping sight of four burly policeman manhandling a bath down the front path of a respectable villa isn't one the residents of Flaxborough see every day."

One would hope not, else the net curtains subsequently referred to would fray from all the twitching, and neighbours would hyperventilate from all the "making observations to Chief Inspector Purbright and Sergeant Love". Mind you it's not every day they come across a pair quite like nice Mr Gordon Periam, mild-mannered tobacconist, owner of the residence post the death of his mother; and the rather less nice, and therefore infinitely more comment worthy, Mr Brian Hopjoy, traveller, alleged spy and all round cad.

It would be too easy to provide spoilers about why the bath, why the interest in the backyard at number 14 Beatrice Avenue, and exactly who has gone missing (which is a matter of some conjecture for quite some time). But suffice to say that by the time a couple of government spooks are on the scene, everything goes a bit too James Bond for Purbright's taste, to say nothing of what it does to his senior officer.

As is the case with this series, you do need to remember that this novel was first published in 1962 (going on to win a Silver Dagger from the British CWA), so some of the observations of womanly attributes are more than a bit distasteful in this day and age, and some of the humour pushes the the bounds of political correctness to the point where some readers may find themselves more than a bit startled.

Having come to the series sometime in the '70's (luckily as I doubt I'd have snuck it past parental supervision in the early '60s), I've always been utterly beguiled by the wry, witty, slightly lunatic stylings of the novels, and HOPJOY WAS HERE has been a bit of a favourite because the plot is so devilishly clever to boot. ( )

It is sometimes difficult not to patronise previous generations of readers. Fifty years ago, Colin Watson’s novels set in Flaxborough, a fictional town in the east of England believed to have been loosely based upon Boston in Lincolnshire, were immensely popular, to the extent that some of them were dramatised by the BBC as Murder Most English. Their popularity was based upon their gentle, ‘cosy’ whodunit plots and the character of the lead protagonist, Detective Inspector Purbright, sewed together with what was deemed to be witty, even daring asides from the narrator.

One of the marks of a truly good book is that its appeal endures across the years. Sadly that cannot be said of this book, and it is difficult to avoid the judgement that many readers in the 1960s must have been very easily amused. The plot is threadbare to the point of transparency, and for most of the book Inspector Purbright struggles to be even two-dimensional. Watson’s attempts at witty rejoinder and satirical observations now feel woefully flat. ( )

When Inspector Purbright receives an anonymous letter telling him to come to the home of a local because of mysterious happenings, he gets more than he bargained for. It seems that someone has been murdered: dissolved in acid, if you will; and Purbright knows that two men lived in the home - Periam and Hopjoy - but since neither can be found, he has no idea whom it was.

However, help is soon on the horizon. Appearing are two men of the government, apparently special agents, who tell him that Hopjoy was one of them and they need to know if the remains (such as they are) belong to him. So Purbright does what he does best: he sets his mind spinning and his men on the roundabout to find the remaining man and perhaps a killer.

What he does find is that one of the men remain, and he is on his honeymoon. While Purbright believes (somewhat) that the man knew nothing about what was occurring in his home, he nevertheless continues to investigate, wanting to know the details. And what he finds is not only disturbing, it seems the killer very nearly got away with it...

This is the third book in the series and a very good entry indeed. Inspector Purbright is at it again, deftly maneuvering his superior Chubb into thinking that he's the one who's come up with the idea to continue the investigation (as he always does) while doing exactly what he wants to do anyway. This time out, he has the dubious help of two agents, Ross (who gets a little more than he bargains for) and Pumphrey, who are conducting their own investigation but don't know the locals nor how to really deal with them but do their best.

The tale is well-told, and while this is an older book (written in 1962) I find that oftentimes the older books are some of the best, and this is no different. It is deftly told, and the plot is well done indeed, with plenty of twists and turns and quite a few surprises. While it feels we are on the same track as Purbright, when he is surprised, we are also. And we discover the truth at almost the same time and have much the same reaction as him.

In the end, I would say that this series has not disappointed me and I truly enjoy Purbright's clever mind. He is a marvelous British Inspector and I love spending time with him. The ending is also a surprise - I imagine both to Purbright and the murderer - but please do not skip to it and read through because it is the journey to the end that makes it all worthwhile. I look forward to the next in the series. Highly recommended. ( )

A very funny entry in the Inspector Purbright/Sergeant Love series by Watson.
Neighbors are fascinated as the police remove a bathtub from a house, and then begin a detailed inspection of the drains. What on earth?
Apparently a man has been killed and the body disposed of in a rather unpleasant manner. This book is full of twists and turns, plots reversals, and pompous characters. It’s a good mystery, a satire of books like The Man Who Was Thursday, and a book that will make you laugh. Highly recommended. ( )

Number 3 in the Flaxborough series shows just how creative Colin Watson was when it came to setting up his books. As I started reading I worried that the series had settled into a formula and that this new book would be like either books 1 or 2 (which were happily different from each other). Well, I sure was surprised when Hopjoy took off in an entirely new direction.

As always, the text is laced with close observations of human foibles and fixations that make me snort, chortle and laugh out loud.

I received a review copy of "Hopjoy Was Here: A Flaxborough Mystery Book 3" by Colin Watson (Farrago) through NetGalley.com. ( )