…the most convincing copy  was always written with the tongue in the cheek, a genuine conviction of the commodity’s worth producing—for some reason—poverty and flatness of style….

All in all, among the delights of Dorothy Sayers’ Lord Peter Wimsey mystery series, Murder Must Advertise may be the most perfect specimen. Which is rather odd, to my mind, as it takes Lord Peter generally out of his natural environment (his priceless valet, Bunter, only makes a brief appearance). In Murder Must Advertise, Lord Peter goes undercover as an advertising copywriter, and finds to his surprise that he’s rather good at it. (Author Sayers herself spent some time in that very career – she is credited with coining the phrase, “It pays to advertise!”)

Victor Dean, a young copywriter at Pym’s Publicity, fell down an iron spiral staircase in the offices one day, breaking his neck. A letter to his employer was found among his effects, and that letter said that something illicit was going on among the staff. For that reason, Mr. Pym engages Lord Peter Wimsey to investigate. Lord Peter substitutes horn-rimmed glasses for his usual monocle and shows up for work, easily sliding into the circle of copywriters. He calls himself Death Bredon (these being his two actual middle names). Meanwhile, at night, Death Bredon becomes a habitue of wild parties hosted by a notorious young heiress. Drugs are being distributed at these parties, and somehow the drug network is connected to Pym’s Publicity. Death Bredon charms some people, insults others, and generally stirs things up to see what will happen. What happens is murder.

Murder Must Advertise is about as close as Miss Sayers ever came to full-blown hard-boiled fiction. Lord Peter is very different from Philip Marlowe, but there’s some of the same atmosphere here of mean streets and ruthless criminals. I like it quite a lot, it goes without saying.

Cautions, American readers, for a lengthy chapter involving a cricket game. Most of you will be as at sea in that environment as I am.