Dead to the World: Based on Paul Temple and the Jonathan Mystery. Francis Durbridge
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Paul Temple, whose first appearance in the 1938 BBC radio serial Send for Paul Temple led to Paul and his wife Steve becoming cult figures of the airwaves, with further serials running on radio throughout the 1940s, ’50s and ’60s. There were also books, four black-and-white feature films and two spin-off BBC television series. But while the radio serials have enjoyed a twenty-first century renaissance on CD thanks to the efforts of the BBC’s audio publishers, and the films and TV episodes have appeared on DVD, some of the books, including Dead to the World, have until now been sadly neglected.
The radio serial Paul Temple and the Jonathan Mystery was first broadcast in eight episodes from 10 May to 28 June 1951, with Kim Peacock as Paul Temple. By the time of the new production (14 October to 2 December 1963) Peacock had long been succeeded by Peter Coke, who made the role his own with eleven appearances from 1954 to 1968. But the actress Marjorie Westbury warranted the label ‘definitive’ even more than Coke, given her twenty-three outings as Steve Temple from 1945 to 1968 opposite four different actors: Barry Morse, Howard Marion-Crawford, Kim Peacock and Peter Coke.
Paul Temple and the Jonathan Mystery begins when the Temples meet an American couple, Robert and Helen Ferguson, on a flight from New York. Soon afterwards they learn that the Fergusons’ son Richard has been murdered at his Oxford college, and that the only clues are a postcard from Harrogate signed ‘Jonathan’ and the disappearance of Richard’s signet ring. The ensuing plot was typical Durbridge fare and resulted in yet another international success, with European broadcasters using their own actors in translations that included the Dutch Paul Vlaanderen en het Jonathan mysterie (25 January to 29 March 1953), the German Paul Temple und der Fall Jonathan (17 September to 5 November 1954) and the Italian Chi è Jonathan? almost twenty years later (12 to 23 April 1971).
So what inclined Durbridge, relatively soon after the second UK radio production of Paul Temple and the Jonathan Mystery, to recycle this serial as the novel Dead to the World and in the process change the character names and replace his popular duo the Temples? It was by no means the first time he had done this, leaving his fans to ponder a question that has never been authoritatively answered. Although his radio serials firmly maintained his reputation over a period of thirty years, he probably wanted to be acknowledged as something more than the creator of Paul and Steve Temple and therefore deliberately set out to broaden his appeal to the reading public by providing a little variety. The first five Temple novels had faithfully followed his radio scripts, but he broke the mould by substituting different protagonists in Beware of Johnny Washington and Design for Murder (both 1951), even though both had begun life as the radio serials Send for Paul Temple (1938) and Paul Temple and the Gregory Affair (1946) respectively.
However, having then returned to writing Paul Temple into short stories, newspaper serials, novelisations and even an original novel, it was not until 1965 that Durbridge again took one of his own radio plots, Paul Temple and the Gilbert Case (1954), as the basis for a new standalone book, Another Woman’s Shoes, which was followed two years later by Dead to the World as the only other example of him recycling his own material in this way.
Looking back, one wonders if Durbridge’s occasional penchant for replacing the Temples, while retaining the typical elements of his radio plots, was considered an affront to his loyal audience? I doubt it, as the books still delivered a generous helping of what they had always expected of him – complications, twists and cliff-hangers galore, and the obligatory sting in the tail. Dead to the World again proved to be as popular as ever throughout Europe, in such translations as Der Siegelring in Germany, Sous le signe du dollar in France, Morto per il mondo in Italy, De zegelring in the Netherlands and Umarly dla s´wiata in Poland.
Following Dead to the World, Durbridge produced fifteen more books. Apart from his non-series title The Pig-Tail Murder (1969), they were either novelisations of his iconic television serials or Paul Temple mysteries: eight of his TV serials were novelised between 1967 and 1982, and there were six more Paul Temple titles up to 1988, of which two were original novels and four were based on radio serials. (Although some bibliographies list an additional novelisation, Paul Temple and the Conrad Case (1989), this appears to be a mistaken reference to the first BBC Radio Collection release on cassette tape of the 1959 radio episodes and not a book after all.)
Whereas Durbridge’s books featuring the Temples have been reprinted over the years, Beware of Johnny Washington, Design for Murder, Another Woman’s Shoes and Dead to the World have all been out of print for more than fifty years. Perhaps a less ignominious fate would have befallen them had they been published as bona fide Paul Temple novelisations rather than with new characters! Their republication by Collins Crime Club, along with Durbridge’s first standalone novel Back Room Girl (1950), finally allows new fans to enjoy these thrilling stories in book form. Of similar vintage is the bonus Paul Temple short story ‘The Ventriloquist’s Doll’, which originally appeared in 1952 in the Daily Mail Annual for Boys and Girls and shows Durbridge’s more playful side when using his central character to appeal to a younger audience.
MELVYN BARNES
September 2017
The wind that came up from the sea that night was ideal for a murderer’s purpose.
It crept over the Downs towards Deanfriston College on talons of ice, probing through chinks in ill-fitting doors and windows, taking possession of the night. On its heels came swirling shards of mist, in places thin as gossamer, in others thick as swansdown, enough to swallow the outline of a murderer and dull the soft tread of footsteps on springy turf up the hill to the College.
The murderer’s sole risk – that of being seen – had been eliminated. Deanfriston’s single street was swept of all life, its inhabitants imprisoned by the bitter cold, glad of a warm fireside and a television screen. Fog and cold were the murderer’s handmaidens: there was little risk.
The killer’s plan was simple …
The young victim looked up with a pleasant, expectant smile as the heavy wooden door of the study opened; trust and welcome were on his face as he took out a bottle of ‘students’ port and two glasses and turned for the last three seconds of his life to stare briefly and uncomprehendingly down the muzzle of a heavy-bore gun.
Despite the silencer with which the gun was fitted, the muffled explosion in the small room was considerable, and the damage done to the victim at such short range was appalling. For a few seconds the assailant’s nerves tottered on the edge of panic.
Then the echoes died, and nothing stirred down the long, cell-like corridor called Scholars’ Row, built of huge blocks of stone cut in a slower, more opulent age.
The killer quickly set to work arranging the body. The details had been mentally rehearsed a hundred times and the sequence of action now had a remorseless, computer-like quality, as though some disembodied agent were executing the complicated moves. There was no room for mistakes, and none would be made. Twenty minutes later the mutilated corpse was in position. Every detail was perfect; nothing had been forgotten.
Turning to leave, the assassin’s eye was caught by a bikini-clad pin-up who smiled from the top of a page-a-day calendar on the wall. Yes, that would be rather a nice touch! Swiftly the current date was ripped from the calendar, and the date for the morrow lay revealed. It was ringed with red ink and had been jubilantly inscribed, many months before, with the words: ‘My twenty-first birthday – everyone please note!’ On the mantelpiece stood two birthday greetings cards. They had arrived early and had already been opened. One was from Julie, the other from Antoinette. How very ironical.
The newspapers would love it, the murderer reflected, picturing the headlines. No editor would be able to resist such a perfect tearjerker. ‘STUDENT MURDERED ON EVE OF 21st.’ No, they would surely add the word ‘brilliant’ – only ‘brilliant’ or ‘gifted’ students were ever killed.