Guest Post by Don Nico

When it comes to murder, no people do it like the English. Specifically, English villagers. Having traveled through the English countryside and its villages from the Channel to the Mersey, from Bamburgh in Northumberland to the Parish of North Hinksey, I testify voluntarily to the lyric timbre of the English village, voicing effervescent peace, magic gardens and the marvelous quiet game of Bowls on manicured lawns in evening light. Where every day is improbably sunny. The lunches, magnificent and mandatory. (Never, ever, interrupt a villager’s lunch. You could be killed. Legally.) Stunning period-costumed celebrations, Veuve Cliquot, followed by Claret, then whiskey. Then murder. Murder. MURDER. In the English village, murder arrives in threes. Or is it fours? I lost count.

The English village is iconic. It is a dream world. Idyllic, untouched, and unsoiled by the stains of the city. No smokestacks or rioting drunken cockney raves. Cricket, not rugby. No homeless child pickpockets. No Sid. No Nancy. No megastores. None of that ick in the English village. A place where the Bookshop flourishes, the grocer delivers veg-baskets door-to-door, the pub serves Good Food, and virile vicars stave off population decline. And… where lurks murder. Think Germany the origin of gruesome tales? Think again. The crown goes to England. If the telly is telling the truth.

A Love Affair with England

In July 1978, my wife and I arrived in London to begin our love affair – with England. It was our honeymoon. This Summer marks the 42nd anniversary, so it’s on my mind just now. Britain was suffering its final year of misrule. Thatcher would take over the next year and become the longest serving PM in history. The hotels were in terrible shape but clean, of course. Sections of the city were beset by squatters occupying abandoned buildings some of which were magnificent, rundown, bombed-out historical masterpieces. Yet, you could feel London about to come alive. The buzz of reconstruction was in the air. In politics, timing is everything and Thatcher’s timing was perfect. From the chaos, hip conceit, and high-low culture of London we ventured a week later into the English countryside with its idyllic and, as it turned out, murderous villages. The contrast with London could not have been starker. What we didn’t know at the time, and what would be revealed beginning with the Inspector Morse shows 10 years hence, is that the idyllic English village is besotted, more than beset, by murder. Out of which comes England’s deliciously odd detective shows.

With our new English friends, we always wanted to discuss Monty Python, Fairport Convention, and Jethro Tull. They would only talk about Kojak, Hawaii Five-O (lovingly referred to as “Five-O”), Mannix, and Dallas. We were floored. And speechless. Kojak, maybe. Five-O? I Get it. Hawaii. Dallas? Okay. J-R. But Mannix? Whiskey-Tango. We spent hours in pubs fielding questions about Kojak, Five-O, Mannix, and Dallas, of which we knew little. No matter – Londoners knew all. One of the benefits of leaving London was not having to talk about Kojak, Five-O, Mannix, or Dallas. We were headed out to the English village. Which brings me to murder. Blessedly.

Demented Cop Shows and English Village Murder Mysteries

It may seem odd to be immersed in English television murder mysteries during a pandemic. But that’s exactly what’s happening in my house. Sheltering-in-place is a terrible thing. Fact is, until Covid, I didn’t watch television. I forgot how to activate the dust-covered sound bar, having canceled cable tv months earlier. Stuck inside, I ordered Amazon Firestick, which took me several days to setup, and which happens apparently all by itself at some point. Then, I subscribed to Hulu and that is where my troubles began. Hulu is a vast wasteland of demented cop shows. Trust me.

At first, I watched every psycho cop show on the menu – and believe you me, there are tons hailing from Canada, Australia, India, China, and America. I even found one from Slovenia which was particularly gritty. Depraved really. Subtitles and all. It is no wonder Melania got out. Within a week, I was having nightmares. On a lark, I switched to English murder mysteries and began watching all the Inspector Morse shows and its spinoffs. Bourbon in hand. No ice. Today, it’s Midsomer Murders, currently Season 9, of 21. Claret. It’s nice to be out of Oxford.

English village murder mysteries are irresistible, and intriguing. A nightmare-free zone. Give it your best shot. Try to guess the murderer, ranging from vicar to Lord-on-the-lamb to aging rocker in from London, to the harlot with no past. From elderly church ladies harboring vintage secrets, to retiring gents holding ancient grudges, unrequited love, and estranged heirs. But you know what? It’s the policing I notice most. Policing in the English village is unique. And that’s where it intersects with the current crisis here in America… as consideration for our nascent reform efforts. In the English village, suspects talk voluntarily to the Detective Chief Inspector. No subpoenas, no cuffs required. The DCI goes about his investigation quietly, unassuming and unarmed, fitting the pieces of the puzzle. And, the coppers will simply not countenance the use of violence in the apprehension of perps. Praise the Lord and pass the pudding. Victims may get shot but there are no shootouts with the cops. It’s all very civilized. To wit, in the end, the DCI completes the puzzle, confronts the perp who confesses willingly, contritely, no solicitor present, before being calmly led away. The best policing happens on a two-way street… where citizens and coppers act like they got their act together.

No one does murder like English villagers.

Best English Mystery Shows for Lock-Downs

Here are a few of the best shows to lock-down with and maintain your sanity. These are not gritty violent East-Ender cop shows. To say nothing of Kojak, Five-O, or Mannix, God forbid.

Endeavour – in its 7th season covers the young formative years of Inspector Morse.
Lewis – Colin Dexter’s spinoff from the Morse series chronicles the adventures of a Morse protégé. 9 seasons.
Midsomer Murders – tour de force of English village murder mysteries. The very best of the best. Stars John Nettles, QBE. 21 Seasons.
Shetland – moving north to the Scottish archipelago. 5 seasons. Scotland getting in on the act. Just started this one.

Stay tuned.

Don Nico is a guitar maker in the American version of the English Village — The Heights, in Houston.