The Big Bow Mystery by Israel Zangwill

A murder in a locked room. Whodunit? And more importantly, howdunit?

Who would want to kill philanthropist, union organizer, and general do-gooder Arthur Constant? And why?

Arthur Constant rents rooms from Mrs. Drabdump in Bow, in London’s East End.

Zangwill sets the scene with that essential ingredient of a London mystery—fog:

On a memorable morning of early December London opened its eyes on a frigid gray mist. .. From Bow even unto Hammersmith there draggled a dull, wretched vapor, like the wraith of an impecunious suicide come into a fortune immediately after the fatal deed. The barometers and thermometers had sympathetically shared its depression, and their spirits (when they had any) were low. The cold cut like a many-bladed knife.

When Constant fails to answer his morning call, his landlady, Mrs. Drabdump, summons retired Scotland Yard detective George Grodman. They break down the door only to find Constant lying dead, his throat slit—yet with no sign of the murder weapon. The door is bolted, the windows latched shut, and the chimney is too narrow for an intruder.

There is a cast of potential suspects, but a motive is hard to find. And what happened to the murder weapon?

The Investigation

The police investigate. Arrests are made. But:

Before the inquiry was resumed, all the poor wretches in custody had been released on suspicion that they were innocent; there was not a single case even for a magistrate. Clues, which at such seasons are gathered by the police like blackberries off the hedges, were scanty and unripe. Inferior specimens were offered them by bushels, but there was not a good one among the lot. The police could not even manufacture a clue.

Witnesses are called, including Mrs. Drabdump, who, while not a Mrs. Malaprop, delivers some gems at the inquest:

Coroner: Was deceased at all nervous?
Witness: No, he was a very nice gentleman. (A laugh.)
Coroner: I mean did he seem afraid of being robbed?
Witness: No, he was always goin’ to demonstrations. (Laughter.) I told him to be careful. I told him I lost a purse with 3s. 2d. myself on Jubilee Day.

The inquest reaches an absurd impasse, with the Coroner declaring:

“It seems clear that the deceased did not commit suicide. It seems equally clear that the deceased was not murdered.”

Meanwhile, the newspapers whip the public into a frenzy, printing outlandish theories and reader-submitted solutions.

Inspector Edward Wimp of Scotland Yard, Grodman’s professional rival, takes charge.

His prime suspect is Tom Mortlake, a fellow lodger at Mrs. Drabdump’s, a trade union organizer and “hero of a hundred strikes.” He has an alibi—but also a motive.

The Showdown

The confrontation between Inspector Wimp and Mortlake takes place at a packed political rally where a portrait of the deceased is to be unveiled:

“All the seats were numbered, so that everybody might have the satisfaction of occupying somebody else’s.”

Even the great Liberal statesman William Gladstone is expected to attend, and Zangwill plays the moment for comic effect:

“Gladstone was late—later than Mortlake, who was cheered to the echo when he arrived, someone starting ‘For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow,’ as if it were a political meeting. Gladstone came in just in time to acknowledge the compliment.”

In the 1895 introduction to The Big Bow Mystery, Zangwill wryly defends his inclusion of Gladstone in a fictional setting:

“The introduction of Mr. Gladstone into a fictitious scene is defended on the ground that he is largely mythical.”

A Cast of Characters

 Zangwill introduces a colorful supporting cast:

• Denzil Cantercot, the opportunistic poet who “never wrote comic verse intentionally” and scrounges off others while ghostwriting Grodman’s memoirs.
• Peter Crowl, the philosopher-cobbler, who debates the Beautiful versus the Useful with Cantercot and, in his rejection of all “fads,” has embraced an impressive list of them:

Crowl was a thinker, or thought he was—which seems to involve original thinking anyway. His hair was thinning rapidly at the top, as if his brain was struggling to get as near as possible to the realities of things. He prided himself on having no fads. Few men are without some foible or hobby; Crowl felt almost lonely at times in his superiority. He was a Vegetarian, a Secularist, a Blue Ribbonite, a Republican, and an Anti-Tobacconist. Meat was a fad. Drink was a fad. Religion was a fad. Monarchy was a fad. Tobacco was a fad. “A plain man like me,” Crowl used to say, “can live without fads.”

Zangwill’s writing brims with wry observations, puns, and bon mots. On Boxing Day:

A thin rain drizzled languidly. One can stand that sort of thing on a summer Bank Holiday; one expects it. But to have a bad December Bank Holiday is too much of a bad thing.

The Solution

As the case winds toward its conclusion, Zangwill parades a series of possible explanations for the impossible crime before revealing his final solution—one that plays cleverly with time, perception, and unexpected plot twists.

Mystery, Satire, and Social Commentary

In addition to the puzzle, I enjoyed the humor, social commentary, and comic characters. Mystery purists might find Zangwill’s digressions frustrating; I found them engaging. His dry wit and satirical turn of phrase kept me entertained, and I appreciated the chance to explore the less fashionable quarters of Victorian London through his eyes.

Israel Zangwill and The Big Bow Mystery

Israel Zangwill was a writer, satirist, Zionist, socialist, and political thinker best known for his fiction about Jewish life and his advocacy for various political causes. His nickname, “the Dickens of the Ghetto,” stemmed from his influential novel Children of the Ghetto: A Study of a Peculiar People (1892), which chronicled Jewish immigrant life in London’s East End.

He later gained fame in the United States for his play The Melting Pot (1908), a Romeo and Juliet-style story with a happy ending that popularized the metaphor of American cultural assimilation.

Zangwill wrote The Big Bow Mystery in two weeks. It first appeared as a daily serial in The Star, a politically radical newspaper known for championing progressive causes, including Home Rule for Ireland and reform of Scotland Yard. It was anti-vaccination, anti-vivisection, and anti-Boer War. 

The Star also gained notoriety for its sensationalist crime coverage, particularly during the Whitechapel Ripper murders of 1888, when its circulation soared.

In 1891, Zangwill was The Star’s literary columnist, and the paper’s editor asked him to produce an original piece of fiction for the “silly season” that would appeal to the readership’s appetite for crime, politics, and sensation. Zangwill delivered The Big Bow Mystery, which ran in daily installments from August 22 to September 4, 1891. It proved so popular that it was published in book form later that year.

Final Thoughts

The Big Bow Mystery is a quick read period piece—both a classic locked-room mystery and a satirical critique of Scotland Yard and the late-Victorian press’s appetite for sensationalism. Zangwill’s wry wit and social commentary take it beyond a simple crime story. I found it entertaining. 

The Star was a London evening newspaper founded in 1888. It ceased publication in 1960 when it was merged with the Evening News, as part of the same takeover that saw the News Chronicle absorbed into the Daily Mail. For some years afterward, the merged paper was called The Evening News and Star.

The featured image is a detail from London Night by John Morrison and Harold Burdekin

This is Blackman Street, London (1885), by John Atkinson Grimshaw (1836–1893),

And here’s Bow Bridge painted by Walter Steggles in the 1930s.