Why Didn’t They Ask Evans by Agatha Christie

In her autobiography, Agatha Christie talks about how she comes by ideas for various books. This one started with the title, which was a phrase she overheard. The fact that Christie worked back from the title is not a surprise since the solution to this novel is not one of her most plausible or ingenious creations, but it’s a pretty enjoyable book nonetheless.

The book’s set in the fictional golf resort of Marchbolt in Wales. Bobby Jones, a vicar’s son, is playing golf when he discovers a man who’s seemingly fallen off a cliff. While Bobby waits with the man, he dies, saying “why didn’t they ask Evans?” Bobby then joins forces with his friend, Lady Frances “Frankie” Derwent to investigate some inconsistencies arising in the coroner’s inquest.

I’ve been reading John Yorke’s Into The Woods, a book about TV and film screenwriting. What I love about detective stories is that they are perfect examples of the sorts of tools and structures Yorke outlines. As he says “Drama demands that characters must change” and as Bobby finds a purpose, and gradually falls in love with Frankie, his change is obvious. His stammering friend, Badger, changes by showing his bravery. Frankie, though doesn’t seem to change a great deal and as such. Her role in the story seems mainly to sweet-talk a series of middle class professionals stunned by her aristocratic credentials. It’s a relatively minor point but it does make her slightly one dimensional.

More problematically, in Milward Kennedy’s review of the book in the Guardian in 1934 he says "The fault which I find is the overimportance of luck" and I agree. Especially towards the end there are a couple of explanations which stray a bit too close to pure fortune and as such are rather unsatisfying. Relying on luck is always a problem in detective stories, and Christie is normally good at avoiding the trap, but here there are a few too many coincidences to countenance.

Minor character and plot gripes aside, this is a solid Christie story. The books without Poirot and Marple often read like they are the ones Christie enjoys writing, and this is no exception. There’s a lightness and momentum that can be missing in some of the later novels featuring her two most famous characters.

I’ve been working through all of Christie’s novels, and having made it this far, I’m yet to find anything I’ve been impressed by as much as the tour de force that is The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, but this is a perfectly enjoyable yarn.