The Amateur and the Professional: An Uneasy Relationship

3.2The Amateur and the Professional: An Uneasy Relationship

The character of the law enforcement officer is, however, vital to the story. In Golden-Age detective fiction they are rarely the main characters but they contribute to its credibility and ensure that the perpetrators will be brought to the court of law. Agatha Christie’s “conception of the British police [,] is conservative and stereotypic: she reflects attitudes and expectations of the role of the police that have been projected in the pages of the various novelists who preceded her and in the real life practices of the police in Britain” (Maida 145). She continued in the tradition which was founded by Vidocq and Poe who “bred distrust for the police [and from whom] came the need for the righteous amateur sleuth and the rivalry between the successful amateur and the less admirable professional” (Maida 146). The need for foregrounding the amateur consequently influences the portrayal of the professional police.

According to James Zemboy, “in many of the earlier Christie novels the police were just plain failures” (198). The level of stupidity of the police officers is, nonetheless, closely connected to the character of the investigating person and if the investigator happens to be a professional detective, as is the case of The Clocks [1963], the police are presented in better light, which may also reflect the different period in which the novel appeared. On the other hand, although “the British were less disparaging in their treatment of the police [than the French], still the amateur sleuth usually had to cope with police jealousy and resistance” (Maida 146) and, consequently the sleuth gives as hard as he gets and ridicules the official police whenever he gets the chance.

Christie at one point admits that the amateurs “make out that Scotland Yard are all boots and brainless” (CT 146), which is what is generally expected of them to do. Hercule Poirot is a former professional policeman but in Christie’s novels he plays the role of the great amateur detective who is expected to overshadow the police and he is thus famous for his disparaging comments on the police. He believes that “the police […] may be trusted to deal with a straightforward robbery” (Christie, HP 804)⁸ but he would not turn to them with anything more sophisticated. When it comes to a man of method, a man who “might bring intelligence, talent, a careful calculation of detail to the task [Poirot does not] see why he should not be successful in baffling the police force” (HP 42)⁹. Method and reasoning are reserved for Poirot who approaches problems “with an exact science, a mathematical precision, which seems, alas, only too rare in the new generation of detectives” (HP 42)¹⁰ and practically missing in the professional detectives in detective fiction.

Poirot’s attitude is the reflection of the popular stereotype picturing the detective as hard working but intellectually lacking. Inspector Miller investigating the disappearance of Mr Davenhaim in the eponymous short story is believed to be “a smart chap. […] He won’t overlook a footprint, or a cigar-ash, or a crumb even. He’s got eyes that see everything” but so has the London sparrow, according to Poirot (Christie, HP 42)¹¹. The ferret-style of police work is often ridiculed and Poirot’s praise of “the result of the labours of the hard-working and lynx-eyed Inspector Miller” (HP 46)¹² is only ironical. Poirot admits that as far as routine inquiries are concerned, the police make them better than he does and he reproaches Hastings for making him run about like a dog (Christie, ABC 109) instead of reflecting.

Although Poirot is absolutely positive that he is better than the police (Christie, ABC 78) and sees the police as “not so greatly gifted by the good God, the Inspector, McNeil, for instance” (Christie, HP 115)¹³, he hardly ever judges them too harshly nor does he criticise them in public or when talking to clients. When a client believes in Inspector McNeil’s abilities, Poirot agrees politely, although his view is the exact opposite (HP 114)¹. Moreover, he is sometimes willing to concede that “the police are doing all they can” (HP 7)¹⁴ and he can appreciate good work. When looking for the murderer in The ABC Murders, Poirot reminds Hastings that “the police are doing everything reasonably possible. [He concedes that] the good Inspector Crome may have the irritating manner, but he is a very able police officer” (152). Christie apparently sticks to her social class and background and although she ridicules the police, she believes in the institution as such.

If the police lose as far as intelligence is concerned, they win in the field of organisation and resources. As has already been mentioned¹⁵, Scotland Yard became the centre of forensic science in the nineteenth century and no amateur detective could equal them, which is realistically reflected in Christie’s work. Poirot claims it is possible to solve a crime by reflection only but in some cases he considers the field work necessary and even recommends a client should consult the police because they “have far more resources at their disposal than I [Poirot] have” (Christie, HP 705)¹⁶. Poirot goes to Scotland Yard when he needs to consult the official records and identify thieves by the means of fingerprints (HP 26)¹⁷. And he does not only use the resources. When he goes to France to investigate the disappearance of the prime minister, he finds it satisfactory that he is to be accompanied by a Military officer and a CID man who are going to assist him in every possible way (HP 100)¹⁸. As far as routine detection work is concerned, “the police have all the means at their disposal for that kind of inquiry” and Poirot thus trusts the police that “if anything is to be discovered on those lines have no fear but that they will discover it” (Christie, ABC 52). He is similarly optimistic about the ability of the police to identify someone: “In that kind of thing the police are excellent. They have their criminal records, they can advertise the man’s picture, they have access to a list of missing persons, there is scientific examination of the dead man’s clothing, and so on and so on. Oh, yes, there are a hundred other ways and means at their disposal” (Christie, Clocks 112). Poirot readily admits that “Scotland Yard and local police of the various counties were indefatigable in following up the smallest clues” (Christie, ABC 108) and believes, as the public at that time did, in the hard and never-ending work of the men in blue.

This belief reflects the reality of the Golden Age; the cooperation, both amiable and restrained, between the professional and the amateur is, however, a relic from the nineteenth-century detective fiction and does not have roots in reality. Sherlock Holmes is regularly visited by Lestrade who seeks his help and Japp often consults Hercule Poirot, but “in real life there were never any brilliant private detectives to whom Scotland Yard turned when they failed and the Yard’s Criminal Investigation Department (CID) had a remarkable clear-up rate […]. Indeed, the most famous real-life detectives of the 20^th century, such as Walter Dew (1863-1947) and Robert Fabian (1901-78), were Scotland Yard inspectors” (Rubinstein). That, however, was not what the readers of the Golden-Age detective fiction wanted to read. In the healing process in the inter-war period they needed to believe in supreme intelligence that could solve all problems and prevent a conflict that could threaten the fragile atmosphere of the time.