I wanted to read Ordeal of Innocence, by Agatha Christie, because the premise was both intriguing and ridiculous. First, the fascinating part: New information comes to light that shows that Jacko Argyle, although convicted of the crime, could not possibly have killed his mother, but somehow the news of Jacko’s innocence doesn’t seem to make anyone in his family seem pleased or relieved. In fact, other than a vague sadness that their adopted brother died in prison, the rest of the family almost seems like they want Jacko to be guilty.

Now, the ridiculous part. The alibi comes because Jacko was picked up as a hitchhiker during the time the crime was committed, but the driver never gave the alibi because he was… wait for it…. hit on the head almost immediately after dropping Jacko off, in a totally unrelated random accident, got an amnesiac concussion, and then set off for Antarctica. As one does.

I kind of love this kind of device in mystery fiction, there’s something so bold about a tossing a ridiculous event into a carefully plotted mystery. I enjoyed a similar device a great deal in At Bertram’s Hotel, too.

Besides this hook, the rest of the novel is twisty and spare. The Argyle family has never really questioned that Jacko was the murderer, since he’d been in and out of trouble since childhood, and was known to need money to get out of yet another shady situation. Without the family wrong ‘un taking the blame,  though, the rest of the family begins to look suspiciously at each other, and it’s already a family full of secrets and odd relationships. Ordeal by Innocence not at all a locked-room mystery, but the scenes of the family and domestic staff eying each other suspiciously has a similar feel and tension.

Unfortunately, this mystery includes some pretty cringy attitudes of the day, mostly around adoption. There’s an unpleasant armchair psych analysis of a woman who is infertile and decides to have her family through adoption.  A lot of this is based on the social assumption that all women must want children, and without children, a woman’s natural instincts are thwarted.  Many characters also believe that adopted children are all well and good, but blood and breeding will tell eventually. It’s a bit cringy now to hear about educated people who really believe that being born into poverty or being born illegitimate is a stain upon one’s personality and capacity for ever. But, again, an accepted belief of that time. 

Overall, recommended as a surprising standalone mystery, with a note that some of the ideas about class and psychology are very dated, and not in a charming way.