Thrones and Dominations.

Long ago (or so it seems) I approached Dorothy Sayers's Gaudy Night as one might open the Iliad. I failed to read it. Sayers's hero, Lord Peter Wimsey, appeared precious beyond reason, and his love-interest Harriet Vane's problems hardly worth solving. But that was yesterday; so much for first impressions. Thrones and Dominations, Sayers's unfinished novel, completed by Jill Paton Walsh (Knowledge of Angels), sent me back not only to Gaudy Night, but to The Nine Tailors, surely the most imaginative mystery novel of the twentieth century.

In these books Sayers was in top form so perhaps a fair comparison cannot be made with this new/old work. Nevertheless, if not one of her peak performances, Thrones has a high entertainment quotient, and its probing exploration of various concerns of Sayers raise it to the level of a serious literary work.

Harriet Vane, the unlikely sleuth, now married to Lord Peter, continues to write her detective stories, but she worries about their value, about their moral worth. Peter reassures her, telling her that they represent a "dream of justice, an ideal that had to be kept alive in a very unjust and dangerous world. . . ." So Harriet must "make murder most foul - the victim real - and pitiful." Harriet is willing, but she faces strong opposition from the Duchess of Denver, Peter's sister-in-law, who wants her to get busy and provide an heir and stop this nonsense about writing. Inevitably the two women clash and Harriet comes down strongly on the side of the independent, educated woman - the one who can earn her own living, if necessary, and who does not need a man simply to lean on.

These themes inform the novel, giving a clear picture of Sayers's preoccupations. They are further underlined by the setting of the story in Lord Peter's London townhouse and the various clubs and restaurants frequented by the upper classes. Sayers's wit and her way with eccentric characters have full play here, as Harriet makes her way through a thicket of snobbish in-laws and new acquaintances.

One of the latter is the beautiful Rosamund Harwell, half of the most romantic couple in London. Lovely Rosamund, while spending a weekend in the country alone, is found dead by her distraught husband. Why has she been killed? She is an innocent woman with nothing in her past to condemn her. But the table in the cottage is set for two and Rosamund herself is found in bed. Has she been having an affair? The suspects, a playwright madly in love with her, and an artist who has been painting her portrait, have each followed her to her cottage, but neither will admit knowledge of her death. Other potential murderers are equally mum.

At this point the entire Wimsey household goes into action. Lord Peter confers with his brother-in-law, Chief Inspector Charles Parker; Harriet works out theories, while her maid, Mango, goes hunting clues; and Bunter, Lord Peter's faithful valet, backs up his master. The solution, as one might guess, is not the expected one and as offbeat as any dreamed up in the past by this clever puzzler. Meanwhile, the reader is taken on a tour of the London sewer system which is as frightening as it is fascinating. Bunter is stuck with diligently scrubbing Peter until he is fit for human companionship again. And when he is, Harriet has news for him - news that the alert reader will have guessed several chapters earlier.

That is not the only news. Bunter has fallen in love with an attractive young photographer, but they have decided to give up one another in the interests of Lord Peter who can't manage without Bunter. Harriet takes charge here and works out a pragmatic solution that suits all parties, thus providing a happy and romantic ending in which the murderer, now confined to a cell, exonerates Rosamund from any wrongdoing.

One of the more interesting aspects of the book is the 1930s ambience that it evokes. We have the death of King George V, the reluctance of Edward VIII to take over the throne without Mrs. Simpson at his side, and all of London dressed in black. Sayers has used the latter effectively to forward her plot. My favorite scene, however, is Lord Peter, working for the Foreign Office and flying off to France in a Piper Cub to get important papers from the negligent king. The fog, we are told, streams away from the little plane like steam streaming from a kettle. On a more sober note, Hitler has begun to make his moves and rumors of war are filling the air.

Jill Paton Walsh has taken all these elements and stitched together Dorothy Sayers's work with her own contribution to make a coherent whole. The result is seamless, if slightly sentimental, owing to the affectionate exchanges between the newly married Harriet and Peter. Her additions, however, are cogent and very much in the Sayers manner, including enough quotations to warrant a new Bartlett's edition. Walsh has taken an unfinished manuscript and produced a most effective exit work for the writer who was arguably the preeminent mystery novelist of our time.

Elizabeth Bartelme, a long-time Commonweal contributor, lives in New York.