Author: Sally Smith
A Case of Mice and Murder is a historical mystery set in London’s Inner Temple in 1901. It is part of a series called The Trials of Gabriel Ward. The main character is Sir Gabriel Ward KC (King’s Counsel), a barrister who lives in the Inner Temple surrounded by books, legal cases, precedents, and solace. His otherwise quiet life gets interrupted when he discovers the body of the Lord Chief Justice in the Inner Temple. Gabriel gets drawn into the investigation, mainly via a threat from the Treasurer, who threatens Gabriel with revoking his decades-long residency in the Temple. He starts investigating the murder and navigates an enclosed world of the Inns of Court, including the private lives of most senior judges, as well as the hierarchies and traditions that protect their privacy.
Alongside this murder investigation, Gabriel also deals with his own big legal case. He is representing the publisher of the popular children’s book Millie the Temple Church Mouse. A woman is alleging authorship of the popular book, but something does not feel right, and the publisher also investigates whether she is really the person behind the pseudonym. This part of the story gives the novel a different thread to the storyline and makes it more compelling, particularly since this story was set in 1901 and thus before any modern technology that would easily prove authorship. I thought this was nicely written, and eventually, the two cases come together in a very compelling way.
The Case of Mice and Murder is not just a story of murder or a legal case of authorship, but also a story of institutions because the Inner Temple is a closed world, not governed by the City of London or policed by the London police. Police can only come to the Temple with consent, which is how Gabriel ends up forming an unlikely friendship with Constable Wright, a working-class man and an aspiring detective. Their thoughts and stories have a class element, and the author very nicely questions class background and privilege. I thought it was particularly interesting how Gabriel does not question his upbringing with a nanny and distant parents and sees that practice as just how things are, whereas the Constable asks whether privileged people are truly privileged. I also thought that social etiquette was written up nicely, e.g., distinctions of status, education, speech, manners, and how to behave and communicate. This makes the novel not just a historical crime fiction but also a story about class and legitimacy. The Temple also feels like a professional field, which opened Bourdieusian questions of authority, power, status, who is ignored and who is listened to, and how class and institutional prestige shape access to information. The class is never just a background, but a structure in the legal world, shaping social interactions and perceptions of credibility.
What is more, the novel tackles women’s equality by raising questions about women’s authorship, recognition, professional exclusion, and credibility within Edwardian society, where there were no laws preventing women from becoming judges or barristers or writers, but social rules prevented them from doing so, which the novel explores as an underlying element to the story. The dispute about authorship or career reflects a wider social problem about recognition.
I always loved historical novels, but if someone asked me before reading this book whether I like mystery and crime novels, I would have said no. But actually, I enjoyed this book enormously because it is well-written and it is not obvious who killed Lord Chief Justice, which also makes it compelling. It goes without saying that I am already reading (and enjoying) the second book in the series and look forward to more books exploring the life, thoughts, and adventures of Sir Gabriel Ward, KC
Thank you for reading!