If Christie leaves the reality behind when she creates her brilliant amateur sleuths, she manages to create two realistic police officers, Scotland-Yard Inspectors Battle and Japp. They belong to Christie’s most famous characters, and not only due to their serial appearance, but also due to their realistic and humanised portrayals.
Inspector Battle is first introduced in The Secret of Chimneys [1925] where he successfully solves a murder mystery, a theft of a priceless jewel, and identifies an infamous crook. He may thus serve as an example of a highly competent officer who refutes Zemboy’s view that “the police got rather poor treatment by Agatha Christie in her earlier stories” (198) and who promotes trust in the official detectives.
Battle conforms to the stereotypical image of a policeman by his seemingly slow thinking and leisurely movements. But that is just a mask which hides a mentally alert detective, waiting for an unwary criminal. Battle is introduced as an astute officer with whom “it would not do to make any slip” (Christie, SC 91). He may seem apathetic and detached, “with no expression whatsoever on his square placid face” (SC 153) but “in the tradition of Dickens’ Inspector Bucket, Battle moves quietly but decisively” (Maida 155). In the words of Anthony Cade, a suspect in The Secret of Chimneys, “when the moment comes, you’re [Battle] always there” (151). He is also, rather in the tradition of the Great Detectives, in the habit of being always right (SC 207). His unemotional demeanour may seduce others into thinking poorly of him (SC 183), but faced with his results they are forced to change their opinion radically.
In Cards on the Table [1936], Battle is given more attention and his character is further developed, although his qualities do not change much. He has become superintendent and has been “supposed to be Scotland Yard’s best representative” (Christie, CT 13) and “one of the big noises at Scotland Yard” (CT 14). His countenance does not change, he is square and wooden with an unemotional eye (CT 27), and although he always looks “rather stupid” (CT 13) and “may look wooden, he is not wooden in the head” (CT 99). Battle plays the role of a typical police officer, slow, dull, conscientious, and absolutely unimaginative. His style is that of “a straightforward, honest, zealous officer doing his duty in the most laborious manner […] No frills. No fancy work. Just honest perspiration” (CT 67). But his stolidity is just a pose that makes the suspects careless. Battle is no fool and those who fall into the trap may be caught by surprise.
The most realistic picture of Superintendent Battle is offered in a later novel, Towards Zero [1944]. In the beginning the readers are reminded of Battle’s wooden appearance, expressionless face and the lack of brilliance since “he was, definitely, not a brilliant man” (Christie, Zero 16). This time, however, he confesses that the pose of a heavy-handed policeman is a pose only and that he likes “doing what’s expected of [him]” (Zero 125). But what distinguishes this novel from others and what makes Battle stand out in the crowd of fictional police officers is the development of his background and his family life. Battle is shown as a married man with five children, the youngest of whom, Sylvia, is accused of stealing from her schoolmates. She is a weak girl who confesses to a crime she did not commit, but her father knows her character and manages to prove his daughter’s innocence and point to the real culprit. The reader knows the Battle family is going to spend summer holidays in Brighton and that Battle cannot join them because he is called to duty. Subsequently, Battle joins his nephew, Inspector Leach, whom he later helps to solve a case. Battle is presented as a sensitive father and uncle, which adds to his credibility as a character and moves both him and the novel towards modern detective fiction.
Inspector Japp of Scotland Yard is also introduced early in Christie’s work; in the 1923 short story “The Affair at the Victory Ball” he is already described as an old friend of Poirot and Hastings (Christie, HP 2)19. That, however, does not prevent Poirot from criticising the detective and pointing to his “lamentable lack of method” (HP 2)20. All in all, Poirot has a good opinion of Japp’s abilities (HP 2)21 but in the early short stories the inspector is not given much space to prove it. His character plays the role of a stereotypical police officer, slow to think (HP 6)22, half-witted (HP 50)23 and a laughing matter for the brilliant amateur (HP 52)24. He sneers at the word psychology and believes in hard work and no tricks:
The good inspector believes in matter in motion […]. He travels, he measures footprints, he collects mud and cigarette-ash! He is extremely busy! He is zealous beyond words! And if I [Poirot] mentioned psychology to him […], he would smile! Japp is the younger generation knocking on the door. […] They are so busy knocking that they do not notice that the door is open. (HP 60).25
The early Japp may seem as a stock and “cardboard” character, a baffled police man in the tradition of Lestrade, whom he resembles both by his behaviour and ferret-like face, but Christie was prepared for the eventual development of this character and let Hastings reveal that Japp was “supposed to be one of the smartest of Scotland Yard’s officers” (Christie, HP 102)26. In the 1930s novels, Death in the Air [1935] and The ABC Murders [1936], Japp has matured and become a competent leader. When he starts investigation of the death aboard an airliner, he is just “after rather a big bug in the smuggling line” (Christie, DA 14). He organises his team effectively and starts preliminary interviews of the suspects quickly and efficiently. Due to his professionalism, cold politeness and severity he gains results quickly, he is in control of his colleagues and suspects and according to Patricia Maida, in Death in the Air “Japp makes his debut as a fully developed persona” (168). He does not only rise in rank and reputation, but he is also more developed as a character.
Japp grows older and more reliable, but he remains “fond of his joke” (Christie, DA 15) and is still rather quick in judging people. He is an expert on generalizations and in some cases, especially when foreigners are concerned, tends to think stereotypically. First he suspects Mr. Clancy, the detective fiction writer, then the French archaeologists, the Duponts: “They’re a reedy-looking couple, and that battered old suitcase of theirs is fairly plastered with out-landish foreign labels. Shouldn’t be surprised if they’d been to Borneo or South America or wherever it is” (DA 18). He still snorts “at the word ‘psychology’ which he disliked and distrusted” (DA 43), but he becomes a more respected detective and gains a promotion and respect. At the end of the investigation, even Poirot is forced to admit that Japp “deserves as much credit as I [Poirot] do. He has done wonders” (DA 156). Christie endows Japp with the stereotypical qualities of an Englishman, suspicion to everything foreign and imperfect academic knowledge, but on the other hand, also with kindness, patience and good temper. She humanises him and thus makes him stand out in the crowd of stereotypical Golden-Age sleuths.
Share with your friends: |