I have just finished Claire Powell’s 1988 book Murder at White House Farm:The Story of Jeremy Bamber which arrived after a patient four day wait after ordering on an internet book site. I have mixed feelings after reading the 302 pages which I feel had it not been for the authoress’ prolixity could have been condensed into half that amount.
There is no real insight into any of the characters,with the possible exception of Sheila as she mingles with her Maida Vale model set in those self-reliant 1980s,where as a Lucie Clayton failure with already low self-esteem from her schooldays and her mother’s criticisms she was so unprepared for the cut-throat character of this brave new world. We are reminded that Sheila was not materialistic and married for love,in contrast to Jeremy Bamber who as a male Madame Bovary craved the security,respect and authority only money could bring.
Ms. Powell dwells far too much on the issue of sex,whether it’s Sheila’s steamy photographic session or her dates with the girlfriends’ cast-offs or spivs typifying the period,or Jeremy’s many affairs before and after the murders with corresponding bedroom talk suitable more for female readers of Cosmopolitan that a serious analysis of the crimes. The trial reporting itself is truncated possibly because Ms. Powell sees fit to give equal words to the trial of the conduct of Essex Police in the subsequent chapter,and some of the flow and tension of the book is lost. We have to wait until page 295 out of 302 pages to garner any theory about the murders at all,with the gem included of the wetsuit in two halves,the suggestion being that Jeremy had showered at the farm before riding along the sea wall back to the cottage.
Had there been more analysis in this vein instead of anecdotes such as Jeremy playing with his pet budgerigar in Wormwood Scrubs this might have been a worthwhile book. If it’s salacious titillation you’re after then this would be the one book of the four written which would be top of your list,but I found other books more compelling: the personal experiences of Colin Caffell were more powerfully sustained,and the Roger Wilkes book more analytical as to who the real murderer might be.
