Features
Why Do We Need An Anti-Terrorism Act When We Have A Public Security Ordinance?
by Dr Nihal Jayawickrama
It is difficult to comprehend why the Government is seeking to introduce a monstrosity of a Bill, ostensibly to combat terrorism, when it has, and has had at its disposal for several decades, a law with sufficient flexibility to prevent and deal with all forms of threats to the security of our country and its peoples.
The Public Security Ordinance
In June 1947, a few months before Ceylon’s first parliamentary election, the State Council enacted the Public Security Ordinance. It was a time when both the private and public sectors of the country were virtually crippled by strike action. Demanding better living conditions, higher wages, and trade union and political rights for government employees, nearly 50,000 workers had come out in what was then the biggest ever strike organized in the country. On June 5, 1947, the police opened fire on a demonstration in Colombo, killing a government clerk, V. Kandasamy. Five days later, the Minister of Home Affairs Mr. (later Sir) Arunachalam Mahadeva, presented the Public Security Ordinance in the State Council. He did not even attempt to disguise the fact that the Bill he was presenting was motivated by the general strike. Seventy-six years later, that law remains not only in our statute book, but also entrenched in the Constitution.
The Public Security Ordinance enables the President, by merely placing his signature on a proclamation, to declare a state of public emergency if it appears to him to be necessary to do so in the interests of public security and the preservation of public order, or for the maintenance of supplies essential to the life of the community. Upon his doing so, he is empowered to legislate through emergency regulations. An emergency regulation, which may even provide for the detention of persons, has the legal effect of over-riding, amending, or suspending the operation of any law other than the Constitution. It comes into force immediately upon it being made by the President, without the need for its publication.
The Public Security Ordinance has also conferred special powers on the President which he may exercise without declaring a state of public emergency.
He may call out the members of all or any of the armed forces to assist the police in the maintenance of public order in any area.
He may impose a curfew in any area.
He may declare any service to be an essential service, and any person who fails to provide that service, or impedes, obstructs, delays, or restricts the carrying on of that service will be guilty of an offence.
This immense power vested in the President is counter-balanced in several ways. The declaration of a state of public emergency is limited in duration to one month at a time. The making of a proclamation must be communicated to Parliament forthwith. The proclamation will expire after 14 days unless Parliament, by resolution, approves it. No proclamation may now remain in force beyond 90 days unless it is approved by Parliament by a two-thirds majority of all its members. These are some of the safeguards provided for in the Public Security Ordinance against the abuse of the extraordinary powers conferred by it on the President.
The following are some of the threats, or perceived threats, to public security which have been addressed by invoking the Public Security Ordinance.
The Hartal 1953
It was in 1953, during the second Parliament, that the Public Security Ordinance was invoked for the first time. In the budget presented that year by Finance Minister J.R. Jayewardene, the subsidy on rice was removed, postal rates and railway fares were increased, and the free midday meal was abandoned. To protest against these measures, the trade unions and left-wing political parties organized a “hartal” (a general stoppage of work) on August 12, 1953. In many parts of the country there were several outbreaks of violence and much damage to public property. Lorries carrying produce were set on fire, the Manning market was completely gutted, several schools were destroyed, and rail tracks were obstructed. On the same day, on the advice of Prime Minister Dudley Senanayake, the Acting Governor-General Sir Alan Rose declared a state of emergency and imposed a dawn to dusk curfew throughout the country. Several left-wing politicians were detained. Order was restored, but not until several deaths occurred at the hands of the military. The responsibilities he had to bear had a negative impact on the health of the Prime Minister who resigned his office two months later.
Communal conflict 1958
Communal tensions that had begun to simmer on the issue of language rights reached a crescendo with the presentation of the Official Language Bill in June 1956 in an empty House of Representatives that was barricaded with banks of barbed wire and guarded by steel-helmeted policemen. On Galle Face Green, Tamil parliamentarians who were performing satyagraha were physically attacked. The violence spread from Colombo to the eastern province, and continuing communal discord took a turn for the worse with a tar brush campaign when the Government introduced the “Sri” numberplate. The Bandaranaike-Chelvanayakam Pact brought Buddhist priests and Sinhalese extremists into the fray. In October 1957, a march to Kandy led by J.R. Jayewardene seeking spiritual aid to achieve the abrogation of the B-C Pact led to more violence. In May 1958, a wave of violence broke out in the North and East following the derailment of a train carrying delegates to the Federal Party Convention in Batticaloa. In Colombo, mobs attacked and looted Tamil businesses, set cars ablaze, and killed several Tamil persons. As the killing, arson and looting spread throughout the island like a prairie fire, the Governor-General invoked the Public Security Ordinance, declared a state of emergency, imposed a curfew, proscribed the Federal Party and the Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna and placed their leaders under house arrest. Over 4,000 Tamils and 2,000 Sinhalese were transported to safety in convoys on the high seas. Peace eventually returned to the Island.
Assassination of the Prime Minister 1959
The third occasion for invoking the Public Security Ordinance was in 1959. At around 10 a.m. on September 25 of that year, Prime Minister S.W.R.D. Bandaranaike was shot at his residence by a Buddhist monk and was rushed to hospital, from where he issued a statement appealing for restraint and patience. At 11 a.m. the Governor-General Sir Oliver Goonetilleke, having spoken briefly with Mr. Bandaranaike in hospital, and apparently to prevent an angry multitude embarking on reprisals against Buddhist monks, invoked the Public Security Ordinance and declared a state of emergency throughout the country. At 8 a.m. on the following morning, the Prime Minister passed away. At 11.15 on the same day, following a meeting of the Cabinet at Queen’s House, the Governor-General appointed W. Dahanayake, the Acting Leader of the House, as Prime Minister.
Following Mr. Bandaranaike’s state funeral, a series of bizarre events took place. As speculation about the identity of Bandaranaike’s assassins reached fever pitch, and it was openly insinuated that people in very high places were privy to the conspiracy, a rigorous press censorship was introduced by emergency regulations, covering a variety of subjects including news of the murder probe. Following the arrest of the female Minister of Health and the brother of the Minister of Finance, the government parliamentary group expelled the Prime Minister, and the latter sacked ten of his Ministers. Finally, left with no alternative but to dissolve Parliament, due to a rapid erosion of support in both Houses, Prime Minister Dahanayake revoked the state of emergency on December 3, 1959. At the general election that followed, the Prime Minister was defeated in his own constituency.
Since 1961, the Public Security Ordinance was invoked on numerous occasions, by successive governments, to deal with a variety of governance issues. For example:
Civil Disobedience in the North 1961
On January 1, 1961, the Official Language Act became fully operative. Attempts to reach accord on the use of the Tamil language had been unsuccessful. On February 20. 1961, the Federal Party commenced a “satyagraha” in five centres – Jaffna, Mannar, Vavuniya, Batticaloa and Trincomalee, against the language policy of the Government, preventing access to kachcheris and other government office in those districts. When the Federal Party announced the establishment of their own postal service, police service and land kachcheris, the Government declared a state of emergency on April 18 “to take effective measures to deal with the situation”. The Federal Party was proscribed, detention orders were issued, and a curfew was imposed.
An Abortive Coup d’etat
On the night of January 27, 1962, while a state of emergency was in force, the Government received reliable information that certain senior officers of the police and armed forces had conspired to arrest some Ministers and other political leaders and to overthrow the Government. The arrests were scheduled to be made that night. The fact that the Public Security Ordinance was already in operation enabled the Government to arrest the coup leaders and to foil the plot and commence and complete an immediate investigation.
Electricity Department Strike
On March 5, 1964, a 30-day state of emergency was declared to deal with a strike in the Electricity Department. According to the Government, “the sewerage system in Colombo, oil, telecommunications, the loading and unloading of ships in the harbour – all are at a standstill. Many factories have come to a halt”. Following personal service orders served on certain electrical engineers, in pursuance of which they were taken to their places of work and compelled to work, the strike was called off and services restored.
Protests against the Tamil Language Regulations
On January 8, 1966, when regulations under the Tamil Language (Special Provisions) Act of 1958 were presented to Parliament, massive demonstrations organized by Opposition parties took place. A procession of nearly 10,000 persons, led by Buddhist monks, left the Vihara Maha Devi Park and commenced a march in the direction of Parliament. At Kollupitiya, the police opened fire after tear gas and baton-charging had failed. A Buddhist monk was killed, and several others injured. A state of emergency was declared, and a curfew imposed in Colombo and its suburbs.
Reduction in the rice ration
A state of emergency was suddenly declared at midnight on December 18, 1966, and all public meetings were banned, local authority elections were postponed, and demonstrations and processions permitted only with the approval of the competent authority in each district. On the following morning, Prime Minister Dudley Senanayake announced that, owing to a world shortage of rice, the ration of two measures would be reduced to one, and that would be issued free of charge. Matured by experience and conscious of the fact that “rice” was the most sensitive and explosive issue in the country, the Government struck what was obviously a pre-emptive blow. However, other measures were to follow. Devaluation, and the sealing of the “Jana Dina” newspaper were some of them. For reasons best known to the Government, the state of emergency continued to be renewed, with parliamentary approval, until January 18, 1969.
The JVP Insurgency
On March 1971, Governor-General William Gopallawa declared a state of public emergency. Prime Minister Sirima Bandaranaike explained to Parliament that information had been received that secret cells had been formed; that arms, ammunition and other deadly weapons were being collected or manufactured; that a large cache of hand bombs had exploded in a hut in Dedigama killing five persons; nine crates containing hand bombs had been discovered in a shrub jungle in Pindeniya; and that an explosion in the Peradeniya campus, which damaged the roof of Marrs Hall, had led to the discovery of hand bombs and large quantities of explosive material used in the manufacture of hand bombs. Despite this pre-emptive action, the Government was militarily unprepared for the concentrated armed attacks that were launched on April 5, 1971.
With shot guns, hand bombs and locally made hand grenades, a massive attack was launched on police stations throughout the country between April 5 – 11, a total of 93 police stations were attacked and overrun; 35 police stations went under insurgent control, and in these provincial towns and villages revolutionary government replaced the civil administration completely. However, powers under the Public Security Ordinance enabled the Government to bring the situation under control; to accommodate approximately 10,000 insurgents who had been arrested; to secure the surrender of an additional 6,000; to establish a special investigation unit; and to perform all the other tasks required to bring the leadership to trial and release the others progressively in such numbers as not to create any security problems in the areas to which they returned.
Conclusion
The Public Security Ordinance appeared to have lost its relevance when, in July 1979, the Prevention of Terrorism (Temporary Provisions) Act came into force. That law did not prevent the bloody ethnic conflict which commenced in that year and continued for the next 30 years. It did not prevent, even with all the information made available to the relevant authorities, the colossal Easter Sunday massacre. The fundamental difference between the Public Security Ordinance and the proposed Anti-Terrorism Act is that, while the former may be utilized only when the need arises, the latter will remain forever, not merely as a dark cloud over the heads of all the citizens of Sri Lanka, but as a permanent ogre, watching every movement, every normal act of human behaviour, waiting for the opportunity to swoop down and grab its prey.
Features
The significance of “Control” in foreign relations
Foreign Relations are all about “Control” particularly in the context of Relations between Major Powers such as the USA, China and India and small sovereign States such as Sri Lanka. While in the case of such relations, benefits to both parties are inevitable, the need to do so is invariably driven by the national interests of the Major Powers because their interests far outweigh those of small States. This mismatch of interests is what calls for “Control” of relations by Major Powers
The advice to Sri Lanka by Foreign Relations experts thus far has been to balance challenges arising from such Relations, not realising that the compulsions driven by the interests of Major Powers are such that balancing by itself does not have the needed capabilities to overcome the consequences arising from Major Power Rivalries; a fact evidenced by the recent Middle East war.
For instance, the need for the USA to strengthen the capabilities of the Sri Lankan Navy is driven by the strategic location of Sri Lanka since it is the gateway to the Indo-Pacific. Notwithstanding such motivations, it cannot be denied that the infrastructure provided to Sri Lanka’s Navy was handy to meet internal challenges as it was during the final stages of the Armed Conflict to destroy arsenals of the LTTE out at sea and the capacity to meet both external and internal threats to and within Sri Lanka.
Similarly, one of China’s primary interests is its Belt and Road Initiative. Towards this end, China has established a solid foot print in Sri Lanka by building and owning solid infrastructure projects for 99 years and more, if it is in China’s interest. However, although benefits from such projects cannot be denied, the open question is whether their scale was established to suit China’s interests or sought by Sri Lanka to suit Sri Lanka’s interests. For instance, the offer to build a 200,000 barrels a day Refinery by Sinopec of China has more to do with serving China’s interests, in view of the decision by the Sri Lankan Government to expand the Refinery at Sapugaskanda to 100,000 barrels a day.
In the case of India, the issues are more complex arising from Sri Lanka’s proximity to India, the cultural and historical heritage shared by both and the presence of the Tamil community in both countries. Consequently, India is extremely conscious of the need to keep a sharp eye and “Control” developments taking place in Sri Lanka in respect of Sri Lanka’s relations with Major Powers. This concern is driven by the notion that the territorial security of India is dependent on Sri Lanka’s Relations with Major Powers; a concern that arises from India’s past territorial history where the territory of India was transformed from a motley group of Princely States into one unified sub-continent and then partitioned into two Nation States under the British Raj. Consequently, the present territory of India has been in existence only since its independence from Colonial Rule in 1947. Hence, the fear of history repeating itself is driven by internal compulsions and by external interventions.
US – SRI LANKA RELATIONS
Against the background of Geopolitical interests presented above, Sri Lanka adopted the Policy of Neutrality in 2019 and this Government continues to exercise and live by its Internationally recognised principles, as it did when Sri Lanka denied landing rights to US Aircraft during the Middle East conflict. Sri Lanka’s Foreign Minister stated that Sri Lanka was “always neutral” when he met the US Assistant Secretary of State for South and Central Asian Affairs to convey Sri Lanka’s appreciation for the assistance rendered to procure fuel during the Middle East crisis and for the maritime vessels and aircraft gifted to Sri Lanka (Daily News, June 23, 2026).
In the meantime, The Island has reported that the “US declares SLN its Indo-Pacific Partner” (June 25, 2026). A statement issued by the US Embassy in Colombo quotes the Assistant Secretary of State as having stated: “Today, we announced the delivery of US satellite communication technology to the Sri Lankan Navy, our Indo-Pacific partner: This secure, real-time connection—representing a transformational upgrade for the Sri Lankan Navy-– will be available aboard their entire fleet of offshore patrol vessels…” (Ibid).
There is no doubt whatsoever that these assets would collectively boost the capabilities of the SL Navy to “strengthen maritime domain awareness, improve operational coordination, support emergency response, help interdict vessels engaged in illicit trafficking etc.” (Ibid). However, the unilateral declaration by US that the SL Navy is a “Indo-Pacific Partner” of the US has NO validity unless such a declaration has the approval of the SL Government. Furthermore, such an approval by the SL Government would compromise its Policy of Neutrality to which the country has pledged.
Therefore, the declaration should be accompanied with a caveat, that being, that the partnership should NOT extend to the entirety of the Indo-Pacific but be limited to Sri Lanka’s Exclusive Economic Zone (EEC). It is only then that the SL Government is Internationally entitled to exercise its rights as a Neutral State, namely, to protect its territory under the UN Law of the Sea. Furthermore, considering the extent of Sri Lanka’s EEC in relation to the extent of the Indian Ocean, the Partnership would be proportionate.
CHINA – SRI LANKA RELATIONS
China’s interest is to consolidate its interests in its Belt and Road Initiative. Towards this end it has attempted to exercise “Control” over Sri Lanka by offering infrastructure projects of a scale that benefits China rather than Sri Lanka as evidenced by the example of the offer by Sinopec Refinery cited above. This example demonstrate that Sri Lanka should be faulted for accepting projects offered without question and when questioned, based on local evaluations of scale to meet Sri Lankan needs as in the case of the existing Refinery at Sapugaskanda, the scale of projects become significantly less. The lesson to be learnt from this experience is that no project offered should be accepted without question in respect of its suitability to Sri Lanka in all respects, if Sri Lanka is not to become a victim of self-inflicted debt traps.
INDIA –SRI LANKA RELATIONS
How India “Controls” Sri Lanka is by making Sri Lanka politically and economically vulnerable and dependent on India, not only through physical connectivity, but also by being a handmaiden in internal political arrangements where power is devolved to Provinces that are a threat to Sri Lanka’s territorial integrity (13th Amendment) and also by focusing development that benefit the Tamil community in Sri Lanka. The end result is to keep relations between communities in Sri Lanka on the “boil”, much against the interests of Sri Lanka to function as a united Nation State.
The proposal to connect Sri Lanka with India with under-water pipelines to transfer petroleum products from the Middle East and Power Grids would make Sri Lanka vulnerable and dependent on India as Germany was with Natural Gas from Russia when Nord-Stream I and II were sabotaged. Similarly, the road access through a Land Bridge connecting India and Sri Lanka would legalize access between the two countries that today takes place illegally because of the disparity in wages and livelihoods.
Despite such possible outcomes, there is a concerted effort by individuals and a body of NGOs who are of the opinion that it is in the best interests of Sri Lanka for Sri Lanka to hitch its wagons to the rising star of India. Others are grateful to India as the first responder to Sri Lanka at times of need, mindless of the weekly destruction of Sri Lanka’s marine resources etc. caused by thousands of fishing boats from India resorting to illegal fishing practices whose value over the years are beyond assessment.
CONCLUSIION
The reason for the recent conflict in the Middle East is all about “Control” of Nation States by Major Powers in pursuit of their Geopolitical interests. The need to “Control” Sri Lanka by the US is because of Sri Lanka’s location to the Indo-Pacific and by China because Sri Lanka is a vital link to its Belt and Road Initiative. On the other hand, Relations with India are influenced and guided by India’s obsession with the sustainability of its territorial integrity because that is what makes India a Major Power. The survival of Sri Lanka in such a complex background depends on how astutely Sri Lanka protects its Policy of Neutrality.
By Neville Ladduwahetty
Features
“Sir”: A prefix or a suffix in Sri Lanka?
The word “Sir” is classically and linguistically associated with Great Britain and His Majesty’s English Language. As an esteemed prefix, it generally refers to a Knight, but very strictly speaking, that is perhaps a rather narrow and restricted synonym. While a Knight of the British Empire is the most common type of knight people encounter today, Great Britain actually has several different orders of knighthood, as well as an ancient rank that does not belong to any such order at all.
When someone is dubbed a knight in Britain and referred to as “Sir” X, Y or Z, they generally fall into one of three categories. The first is a Knight Bachelor, undoubtedly the oldest rank. This is the most common form of knighthood awarded for public service, arts, or science. In that context, one should think of Sir Elton John, Sir Paul McCartney, or Sir Ian McKellen. It is not a part of an explicit “Order”, like that of the British Empire. It is the oldest mechanical form of knighthood, dating back to the 13th century under King Henry III. The recipients are simply styled as Sir, followed by the first name, such as Sir Ian, without any post-nominal letters like KBE or OBE attached to the end of their name.
The second is a Knight Commander of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire (KBE). This is a specific group, established relatively recently in 1917 by King George V, to fill a gap for rewarding civilian and military effort during World War I. To qualify to be called “Sir” within this specific order, a man must be appointed as a Knight Commander (KBE) or a Knight Grand Cross (GBE).
The third is a group of Chivalric Orders, the so-called Elite and Ancient Orders. Several highly exclusive, ancient orders of knighthood sit much higher in precedence than the Order of the British Empire. These include the Most Noble Order of the Garter, the pinnacle of British honours founded in 1348, and scrupulously limited to the Monarch, the Prince of Wales, and only 24 other companion members. Then there is the Most Ancient and Most Noble Order of the Thistle, the highest chivalric honour in Scotland. The last of this group is the Most Honourable Order of the Bath; typically awarded to high-ranking military officers and senior civil servants.
The Summary Rule of this entire scenario is that every Knight of the British Empire (KBE) is a British Knight, but not every British Knight is a Knight of the British Empire. If you see a modern British knight who does not have military or diplomatic ties, odds are high that they are actually a Knight Bachelor.
With reference to the title of this presentation, now for the flip side of this, as we see things in our region of the globe. In Great Britain, it is the standard form of address to refer to a Knight as Sir John, Sir Ian etc. However, in Sri Lanka, as well as in the Indian sub-continent, very often people use the word “Sir” as a suffix or a postfix to honour someone and frequently use “X Sir”; the name followed by the word “Sir” as a suffix or postfix.
It is a fascinating linguistic oddity, and Sri Lanka is definitely not alone in this, and most definitely, we are second to none in that outlook. While using “Sir” as a suffix or postfix (e. g., De Silva Sir, Nihal Sir) completely cartwheels over the standard British etiquette, where “Sir” must strictly prefix a first name. This charming practice of using it as a suffix is actually widespread across South Asia and parts of Southeast Asia. It is a classic example of dialectal crossbreeding, where local grammatical structures and cultural norms go to the extent of rewriting even the rules of the standard English as a language.
In a very broad sense, this phenomenon is very definitely seen in the Indian Subcontinent (E.g. Sri Lanka, India, Bangladesh, Nepal, Bhutan and Pakistan). This is arguably where the “Name + Sir” phenomenon is largest and perhaps even the strongest. Across Sri Lanka, India and Bangladesh, you will constantly hear people refer to superiors, teachers, or public figures as Karu Sir, Vijay Sir, Sachin Sir, Shahrukh Sir, or Ahmad Sir, etc.
Then there is the Indian “Ji” Factor: In Indian languages like Hindi or Punjabi, it is a strict cultural taboo to call an elder or a superior by their bare name. People naturally append the respectful suffix “Ji” (e. g., Gandhi-ji, Sharma-ji). It is then no surprise at all that when switching to English, the Indian mind seamlessly swaps the local suffix Ji for the English honorific Sir, thereby turning Vijay-ji into Vijay Sir.
In Hong Kong, a very specific variation of this exists within the police force and civil service. Influenced by decades of British administration, mixed with Cantonese naming customs, junior officers and the public address superiors by their surname followed by “Sir”, such as “Wong-Sir” or “Chan-Sir“. There is even a universal colloquial generic term, “Ah-Sir“, used commonly to address male police officers or teachers.
In the Philippines, while the syntax is slightly different, the sheer density of “Sir/Madam, Ma’am” usage matches that of Sri Lanka. Filipinos deeply value hierarchical courtesy. While they might say “Sir Jason“, it is incredibly common to use “Sir” almost like a pronoun or a mid-sentence suffix punctuation mark when addressing superiors, bosses, or clients, to ensure that respect is suitably maintained conscientiously.
The mismatch between British English and South/Southeast Asian English comes down to how different native cultures view status and intimacy. In South Asia, especially in Sri Lanka, there is the Linguistic Tradition of the suffix, where an extension in the nation’s own language is inserted into a word to enhance its status. In languages like Sinhala (-thuma / –mahathmaya), in Tamil (-ayyah / –avargal), and in Hindi (-ji), respect is always attached to the end of a name. It simply means that forcefully bringing a sleek word that implies social deference to the front, like Sir John, feels syntactically peculiar or even inappropriate to a native speaker of these local languages.
The “First Name Dilemma” is another type of rather quaint occurrence. In the West, calling your boss simply “John” is seen as a gesture that is egalitarian, free and open. In South Asia, calling an elder or superior by their first name feels somewhat jarringly rude. Conversely, using just “Mr Perera” can also feel too cold, official and even distant. “Perera Sir” or “Silva Sir” strikes the perfect culturally mitigatory concession, as it maintains a warm, personal connection by using the surname while also overtly and safely conveying a layer of professional public respect by adding the word “Sir” as a suffix or a postfix.
Yet for all that, it is worth noting that fundamentally, all languages are symbolic expressions of human thought and human intelligence. Whether expressed as spoken, written or sign language, all dialects are means of human communication. The type of words like “Sir” that we use in the English Language and the real context in which they are used indicate our thoughts in our human intellect. When they are used appropriately, they reflect our commitment to uninhibited respect and even admiration. While the British people and even their Monarch might feel quite a bit confused to hear someone called “Perera Sir”, right across Sri Lanka and its neighbouring nations. Yet for all that, it is simply the most natural and fusion technique to bridge and integrate traditional deference and admiration with modern expressive English.
by Dr B. J. C. Perera
Specialist Consultant Paediatrician and Honorary Senior Fellow,
Postgraduate Institute of Medicine, University of Colombo, Sri Lanka.
An independent freelance correspondent.
Features
The Murder Room
Tales of Mystery and Suspense – 8
The Murder Room gets its title from a room of that name in a museum dedicated to Victorian memorabilia, including famous murders, which are featured in that room. But the first murder in the story occurs outside, when one of the trustees, who had been against renewing the lease of the building – which would have meant the museum having to close – is set on fire when he comes to the museum late one evening to pick up the car in which he went away for weekends. This was a regular habit, and the murderer had obviously lain in wait, with a can of petrol, and set him on fire.
I took several books with me when I went to England earlier this year, but as usual I read hardly any of them, finding enough and more of interest in the shelves of those I stayed with. My first stop was at New College, where, as on several previous occasions I stayed in what is known as the Bishop’s Room, on the topmost storey of the Warden’s Lodgings. Sadly, I shall not stay there again, for my friend who has been Warden there for a decade now, Miles Young, retires this year.
The bookshelves there have much of interest though on the last couple of occasions I have concentrated on the detective stories, which Miles says are not his, but came with the house. The second I read this time was by the generally workmanlike P. D. James, whose Adam Dalgliesh is in the long line of whimsical but efficient detectives that has Hercule Poirot at its head. Though I had not been impressed by the one novel I read, featuring James’ female detective, Dalgliesh, I liked it, and this novel confirmed my affection.
The Murder Room
gets its title from a room of that name in a museum dedicated to Victorian memorabilia, including famous murders, which are featured in that room. But the first murder in the story occurs outside, when one of the trustees, who had been against renewing the lease of the building – which would have meant the museum having to close – is set on fire when he comes to the museum late one evening to pick up the car in which he went away for weekends. This was a regular habit, and the murderer had obviously lain in wait, with a can of petrol, and set him on fire.
The other two trustees, his brother and his sister, obviously benefited from his death, for they promptly renewed the lease. The employees of the museum also clearly benefited, for they had all found some sort of refuge here. These included the caretaker/cleaner, who lived in a cottage on the premises, a manager who was unpaid but used the place for his research, the receptionist, who also looked after the flat at the museum which was used by the sister, and two volunteers plus a gardener’s boy.
The caretaker, Tally, came across the fire before discovery had been intended, for an evening class everyone knew she went to on Fridays had been cancelled. On her way in she was knocked off her bicycle by a speeding car, the driver of which stopped to make sure she was safe, before speeding off again. She manages then to summon everyone else, including Dalgliesh, who had visited the museum for the first time a few days earlier, brought by a friend who relished its strange attractions.
The museum has to be closed for a few days while investigations are carried out, but in the course of them the friend brings some transatlantic visitors, and when they are in the Murder Room a chest (in which a body had been supposed to have been hidden in Victorian times) is opened, and a body found there. That murder, the autopsy indicated, had taken place around the time of the first murder.
The body was that of a girl who had attended a finishing school part-owned by the Dupayne sister. When Tally, by chance, sees the man who had knocked her down, and identifies him as a Lord who was known for his philanthropy, Dalgliesh realises that there are wheels within wheels here. The Lord confesses that he belonged to a group that met for promiscuous sex in the flat, and that he had planned to meet the girl there but she had not turned up.
Lord Martlesham, when the girl failed to appear, thought he should get away after the fire broke out. It was then that he had bumped into Tally, and his stopping to make sure she was all right indicated that he could not have been the murderer. Dalgliesh then deduced that the murderer had seen the girl at the window of the murder room, from which she must have seen the preparations for the murder. That was why she too had been killed.
Dalgliesh then has a fair idea of who the murderer was, but in waiting for proof, he leaves room for yet another murder to happen. For Tally, who had been mulling over something said on the night of the murder, asking about the petrol that caused the fire, realized that she had not mentioned petrol herself. This happened on her way back to her cottage, and not having a phone herself she goes into the museum to call, and then gets back to her cottage and locks herself in.
But then she hears her cat howling and goes out to find him strung up. She cuts him down, but when she goes back to the cottage the murderer is waiting and knocks her down. That happens in the section called The Third Victim, but this is in fact a boy on a motorbike knocked down by the speeding car of the escaping murderer. So Dalgliesh is able to effect an arrest when he turns up as summoned, and fortunately is in time to resuscitate Tally and send her to hospital.
The reason for the murder and the identity of its perpetrator are then fairly straightforward, though the background to the second murder introduces an element of loose living that contrasts with the Victorian age, or at least the image it projected – undercut though that is by the murders highlighted in the Murder Room with their sexual overtones.
And there is another louche element in the adventures of the gardener’s boy, who lives with a Major who is homosexual, though he declares, truthfully it seems, that he was not attracted at all to the boy but had given him shelter because of his vulnerability. He is generally charming, but capable of rages, in one of which he knocked down the major, though he was forgiven. He had taken shelter with Tally, who was fond of him but decided she preferred to live alone, which was why she had sent him away the day before she was attacked.
The murdered brother was a psychiatrist, and it turns out that the mysterious weekends he spent away from his London home were spent at country inns, where he took long walks to clear his mind of the demons his practice kept bringing into it. His profession also contributed to his death, in addition to his standing in the way of the museum continuing to exist, for one of his patients, connected to the murderer, had set fire to herself.
Solid plotting, with all the loose ends tied up, of incidents and the bizarre cast of characters.
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News6 days agoFSP complains of irregularities in a Guinness World Record event held in Sri Lanka

