Aunt Dimity and the Heart of Gold

Creative would be one - charitable - word for this book. After all, much as I've read, a dearly departed friend providing advice and assisting with mysteries by writing notes that disappear after the intended has read them in the designated notebook is a first. And, despite Aunt Dimity being a series, it is the last time for me.

I expected Aunt Dimity and the Heart of Gold to be a modern take on the cozy, British mystery. Maybe not quite Agatha Christie, but perhaps along the lines of Dorothy Sayers. This seemed reasonable on my part since Nancy Atherton sets her story in the Cotswolds, at Christmas. Unfortunately, I quickly disabused of this notion. Not only did the mystery fail to materialize for ages (or to interest once it did), but I found the writing dull and the story plodding. The characters were not well developed; in fact, I had a difficult time keeping many of them straight. And I couldn't get past Aunt Dimity herself, the departed best friend of the protagonist's mother, who continues to communicate by way of a special notebook and disappearing ink. Twenties Girl, it isn't.

This is a book I skimmed, more than read, and even so debated whether to finish.

One star.

A Death of No Importance

It's 1910 and Jane Prescott is an accomplished lady's maid whose service to one of New York's most influential matrons positions her for service to the new-money Benchley family upon the stately Mrs. Armslow's death. Compared to Mrs. Armslow - related by birth or marriage to the finest families of the city - the Benchley's are quite the comedown.

They value Jane for her understanding of high society, an understanding they do not yet possess and which becomes all the more necessary (and apparent) when the youngest Benchley daughter, Charlotte, causes outrage and scandal by becoming engaged to Norrie Newsome, scion of the mining family. The Newsomes, while one of the "finest families" are also beset by their own scandals, from the mining disaster that killed so many children in Pennsylvania to Mr. Newsome's remarriage to his daughter's schoolmate. All of which is to say: there's plenty to unravel when Norrie is viciously murdered at his family's Christmas party, just as his engagement to Charlotte Benchley was to become official.

As Jane learns more of the murder, she discovers that she alone may be able to solve it.

Author Mariah Fredericks mystery is well-written and captivating. From the inclusion of anarchists to the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire, she's included significant historical events that make this more than a simple, puff piece, and increased my interest. I also appreciated the twists; just when I thought I knew what would happen (and I'm not speaking only of the murder mystery here), she added plot twists to keep the reader on her toes and decrease the predictability and formulaic turns that such mysteries can often take.

Four stars.

A Caribbean Mystery

A Caribbean Mystery is quite possibly the first Agatha Christie book I've ever read where I guessed who dunnit correctly, and well before the final denouement. I can't say whether that's a positive or a negative; either way, this is classic Christie and delivers a page-turning delight.

Miss Marple has traveled to the Caribbean for some much needed R&R when what should occur at the resort, but a murder. Shocking, I know. In any event, Miss Marple can't help be feel that Major Palgrave's sudden death is connected to the stories he has been telling - loudly; repeatedly - about various murderers he's met in his life. In true Christie fashion, she begins investigating, seeking to stop the murderer before he - or she - strikes again.

I love Agatha Christie books. They remain my go to for quick, fun, relaxing reads, and while I long ago read my way through every Hercule Poirot book Dame Christie wrote, I somehow missed Miss Marple during my previous Christie binges.

Five stars.

The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club

Dorothy L. Sayer's The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club is quite the opposite: a pleasant little read, in traditional, British-cuppa-by-the-fireside fashion. Written in 1928, it's in league with Dame Agatha and other contemporaries of that era. (The afterward notes that the 1920s were the golden era of detective fiction.)

So...elderly General Fentiman is found dead in his favorite chair in his favorite club on Armistice Day. Having suffered from heart trouble for some years, the case would appear to be open and closed, and would have been, except that his also-elderly sister has died on the same day, and the timing of the deaths has important implications on her estate. If he died before 10:07am, the money goes to the young woman who's looked after her for many years; if after 10:07am, it goes to the general's grandsons. And so begins Lord Wimsey's association with the case, as he unravels what should have been a tidy little death.

The Unpleasantness at Bellona Club is an excellent rainy day read for those who enjoy the genre. Mind candy, as it were.

Four stars.

Bertie and the Tinman

Bertie and the Tinman is a fun, quick read wherein Bertie, eldest son of Queen Victoria, heir to the throne, Prince of Wales, and all that jazz, takes a turn as a detective investigating the suicide of Fred Archer, the greatest jockey of the age. As an avid Turfite, Bertie would know. In any event, Archer's suicide doesn't sit well with Bertie and he begins to dig into the Archer's personal life to uncover what or who drove him to kill himself. (Fred Archer was an actual jockey, and he really did commit suicide. The Price of Wales, of course, was never involved, at least not as far as anyone knows!)

Quirky and rather endearing, this is a book that doesn't ask much of its reader, other than a bit of indulgence as far as Bertie is concerned. Peter Lovesey's premise is that Bertie is recording his memoir shortly after solving the case, and addresses his dear reader secure in the knowledge that all involved will have met their maker long before the manuscript is released. It sounds contrived, but it works, and makes for a fun and lighthearted diversion. In a world where something as solid and anchored to the past as Notre Dame can be consigned to history in a matter of hours, there's something to be said for that.

Four stars.

Elegy for Eddie

Elegy for Eddie is another Maisie Dobbs mystery, this one set in 1930s London teeming with costers and the last of the horse-drawn vehicles, which are rapidly losing ground to the fast-rising motorcar. Maisie is in the early(ish) days of her agency, and Elegy for Eddie focuses as much on Maisie, and her finding her place in the world and being comfortable in her own skin, as it does on the mystery of Eddie Pettit’s demise. So.

A group of costers come to Maisie to request that she investigate the “accident” that befell Eddie Pettit, a man whose “simple” mind, coupled with his uncanny talents, would likely see him placed somewhere on the autism spectrum. Maisie investigates, but – unlike other Maisie Dobbs books I’ve read – this one feels rather unsatisfying, both in the resolution of the mystery(ies), as well as the amount of ink devoted to Maisie’s personal life. I realize this is necessary to create the plot elements that allow for a full series, but I’m less interested in Maisie than I am in the “cozy mystery” aspect of Jacqueline Winspear’s work. To that end, I’m not sure how many more Maisie books I will read.

Three stars.

In This Grave Hour: A Maisie Dobbs Novel

I have been in need of some serious escapism these past few weeks and when I was much younger, Agatha Christie was my go-to for escapism reading. I decided to stick with the same genre this time, and dove into Jacqueline Winspear's In this Grave Hour, the second Maisie Dobbs novel I've read (and liked - really liked!). Although the circumstances are heavy - Maisie hires onto her latest murder case on the very day England declares war on Germany - there's nothing too heavy or heady about this book.

So. The Belgian Embassy hires private investigator Maisie following the death of a Belgian refugee from "the last war," who has lived quietly and worked hard right up until he was robbed and murdered in broad daylight, but with no witnesses. Having no leads and diminishing resources (the toll of the nascent war, already), Scotland Yard has given the case short shrift, but the Embassy wants answers...before there is another murder. (Which, c'mon, this being a murder mystery, you know there's going to be.)

I'm realizing belatedly that, unlike Agatha Christie novels which had virtually no continuation of plot themes from one mystery to the next, Winspear has seemingly constructed a series, and what struck me initially as similarities between elements of the plot in both books is actually a continuation of the story. As I will undoubtedly work my way through more of Maisie, I'll have to remember that for the future!

Four stars.

A Duty to the Dead

A Duty to the Dead is a World War I-era mystery, starring Bess Crawford as Hercule Poirot. Bess is a nurse on the hospital ship Britannic when the ship hits a mine and she breaks her arm in the ensuing chaos. Forced to return to Britain and await new orders, Bess has the time to carry a dying message to the family of one of her most beloved patients. Unfortunately, it appears this message is the last thing the family wants. As Bess tries to unravel the who, what, and why, she finds herself drawn into the sphere of an ever more mysterious family, and - frankly - increasingly improbable circumstances.

What I liked: A Duty to the Dead is a quick read, and it's highly readable. I'd read The Walnut Tree by Charles Todd several years ago, so I was confident I like Todd's writing, and A Duty to the Dead didn't disappoint. Bess is spirited and Todd covers the period well.

What could have been better: The circumstances were entirely to improbable for me to fully immerse myself in the mystery. That said, I still enjoyed this book and would read another Bess Crawford mystery in the future (though where she gets the time to play private detective in the midst of the Great War is perhaps its own mystery!).

Four stars.

To Die But Once: A Maisie Dobbs Novel

Set against the backdrop of the evacuation of the British forces from Dunkirk and on the eve of what everyone can feel is the coming Battle of Britain, private detective Maisie Dobbs investigates the mysterious death of a young painter apprentice working on a secret government contract.

If Jacqueline Winspear isn't quite Dame Agatha, To Die But Once is nevertheless a snappy read with an enticing plot. Fifteen-year-old Joe Coombes in the young apprentice; conveniently, his family was already acquainted with Maisie and her assistant, Billy Beale. As Billy quickly points out to Maisie, though, something just isn't quite right with the family. Priding herself as much on her work as a psychologist as a detective, Maisie teases the threads apart to solve the case.

While the secret government contract - a job painting all of the buildings on RAF bases with fire retardant - provides a bit of the wartime feel, Winspear has infused it throughout the book with talk of petrol coupons, rationing, and the evacuation from Dunkirk itself. This last is its own sub-plot, apart and unrelated to Joe Coombes's fate, as though reminding readers that whatever personal tragedies one may have faced during World War II, there the war loomed overhead, overshadowing even the worst pain. (With Dunkirk, too, I was reminded keenly of Natasha Solomons's The House at Tyneford, which makes an excellent choice for anyone interested in Dunkirk-themed historical fiction, but for whom mystery isn't quite the order of the day.)

Learning how much of the story was inspired by true events was the icing on top - and a rarity in mysteries.

All told, To Die But Once is a solid, four-star read.

Murder for Christmas

Mordecai Tremaine accepts the invitation to spend Christmas in Sherbroome out of curiosity more than anything else. Almost immediately, he discovers that nothing is as it seems, and that more than a few of his fellow guests are cagey - if not openly hostile. There's no surfeit of Christmas spirit, that's for sure; what little there might have been disappears promptly upon the discovery of a body, clad as Father Christmas no less, at the foot of the Christmas tree.

I haven't curled up with an Agatha Christie-style mystery in some time and when Francis Duncan's Murder for Christmas showed up on BookBub, I couldn't resist. What better to read in the run-up to that most festive of days? And if Duncan's conclusion wasn't quite as surprising as Dame Christie's, there's no mistaking the genre. Similarly, the setting: not for a minute can the reader forget that this is England, in the years of sleepy villages, great houses, and roaring fires.

Readers who love a classic murder, and especially a classic English murder, will spend happy hours with Murder for Christmas.

Newport

Adrian De la Noye and his young associate, Jim Reid, have been summoned from their Boston law firm to Newport by an elderly client who wishes to revise his will on the eve of his marriage. Not surprisingly, his two children – the never-quite-sober Lady Chloe and especially the threatening and overbearing Nicholas – object vociferously, openly questioning their father’s state of mind. Initially Adrian attributes this to their objection to the marriage generally, but when he discovers that his client is communicating with his long-deceased first wife by séance, and that he believes his first wife has explicitly chosen the decades-younger Catherine Walsh to be his new bride, even Adrian begins to ask questions.

Part Twenties Girl, part Agatha Christie, Newport is a delightful little read. The characters are well drawn and the story is entertaining to no end. Interspersed throughout the present day action Adrian’s memories of the last time he was in Newport , and though this tactic can sometimes be quite distracting, in this instance it worked well. 

Newport should appeal to a wide variety of audiences, from historical fiction fans (I picked it up because I was in Newport recently and hoped for a glimpse of its gilded age past) to cozy mystery and quirky fiction fans.

Murder Most Malicious

Murder Most Malicious is a lighthearted murder mystery set at one of England's great manor houses just as the first World War has drawn to a close. It's not often that I would describe a murder mystery as "lighthearted" but Alyssa Maxwell writes with a breeziness that seems to convey to the reader to not become too overwrought.

So. It's Christmas, 1918, the war has finally ended, the men are finally home - those who do not lie in Flanders field, at least - and all is merry and bright. The Renshaws - Lord and Lady and the like - are hosting a large gathering at their estate, Foxwood Hall, when one of the guests is discovered missing in a most unpleasant manner. The local constable believes he has the case sewn up neatly, but 19-year-old Lady Phoebe is certain he has the wrong man. It's up to her and her ladies maid, Anna...er, Eva, to catch the real culprit before anyone else is hurt.

As you may have guessed from the paragraph above, Murder Most Malicious put me in the Downton Abbey frame of mind almost from the opening page. The Renshaws, like the Crawleys, have three daughters, the oldest of whom is a bit of a cold fish. The middle daughter, Lady Phoebe, is the most sympathetic, so she's no Edith, but Mr. Giles could easily be Mr. Carson. In many ways, the similarities are not surprising, given that M3 was published in late 2015, well into Downton's run as the definitive source on Britain's WWI experience. I should add, too, that the similarities with Downton in no way take away from Maxwell's writing or the mystery at the heart of the book.

Murder Most Malicious is no Agatha Christie, where the reader is blindsided by the developments and can rarely guess the outcome. It's in the same class as the Kalorama Shakedown or M.C. Beaton: good, fun, quick, and certainly not too dark.

Oh Say Can You Fudge

I shouldn't read the Fudge mysteries. I know this. I've said this before. And yet, when I saw the fireworks-filled cover on the library shelf, I couldn't help myself. The Fourth of July. Mackinac Island. Fudge. I have no one to blame but myself.

Allie McMurphy, in her infinite wisdom, has joined the Star Spangled Fourth committee. She has insisted on hiring a new company to put on the island's three fireworks shows - and then she discovers him dead in the fireworks warehouse, just before the entire warehouse explodes.

There are so many things wrong with this book. Regarding the writing, I'll just say it can't possibly be a mistake that the day I read this book is also the day I learned an Ohio appeals court ruled in favor of proper punctuation. Even looking beyond the punctuation, the writing itself is pretty terrible. Every person Allie encounters is described in minute and simultaneously meaning details from the hair (most women wear it in a bun, it seems), to the clothes, to the height (Allie is a master of knowing exactly how tall everyone she meets is). Also I've decided I really don't like Allie.

Although I wasn't a huge fan of either of the other books in this series, the plot in each was a compelling whodunit. This one is different. The entire mystery left me with a rather meh feeling, which wasn't helped by the way in which one of the characters (Henry) disappears completely from the plot and pages, his role in any of the "mysteries" completely unresolved (or forgotten). It was as if Nancy Coco got bored of her own characters and creation and abandoned them all, come what may.

The final verdict: skip this book.

The Great Jackalope Stampede

Recently I had some long travels for which I needed relatively entertaining but mindless reading. (Other people watch movies on planes; I read books.) Ann Charles's Great Jackalope Stampede starring Claire Morgan and the rest of her kooky family seemed to fit the bill. This being a mystery series, where Claire goes, mayhem and murder follow. 

I must say that this was my least favorite of the three Jackrabbit Junction mysteries Charles has written. I felt too much play was devoted to family drama (much of it with plotlines that have already played out in the second book, Jackrabbit Junction Jitters) rather than to any type of mystery. On top of that, The Great Jackalope Stampede often seems to amble along without much direction, and the ending is equally unsatisfying. Charles leaves a number of loose ends, but I couldn't figure out if she intended to create a to-be-continued feel, or if she didn't realize (or care) that she'd left so much unfinished business.

This book served it's purpose: my flight passed more quickly than it would have otherwise. In the same sense, I imagine this would be a fine beach read, but I wouldn't go much beyond that in my recommendations.

At Bertram's Hotel

An orphaned heiress, a Continental race car driver, a train robbery, and an absentminded - and sometimes missing - clergyman. These are the primary element's of Agatha Chritie's At Bertram's Hotel. Naturally, as this is a Miss Marple novel, Miss Marple just happens to be staying at the aforementioned Bertram's and has just the eyes and ears to connect nearly everything. Scotland Yard is only too happy to oblige with the rest.

Bertram's is classic Christie. It's short and to the point, easy to read, not too many characters, all ultimately connected in sometimes surprising ways. I have a nagging suspicion that I have read it previously (perhaps more than a suspicion, unless Chritie has used the Bollard's episode more than once, which is also possible). However, not being entirely certain of the plot, I happily read it again sitting on an airplane, content to be reading without having to concentrate too much!

As always with Dame Christie's work, fans of the author, or the mystery genre in general, should find this book up to par and, therefore, an enjoyable read. Even the second time.

Kalorama Shakedown

Robert Bruce Stewart's Kalorama Shakedown is a light and lively mystery starring, if you will, Harry Reese, an insurance investigator, and his slightly batty wife, Emmie. Reese is sent to Washington, DC, on business following a succession of highly suspicious insurance claims for stolen jewelry, all stolen in (too) similar circumstances.

The setting in December 1901, which gives Kalorama Shakedown slightly more color and character than similarly situated mysteries. (I couldn't help but wonder if Nancy Coco or Ann Charles might have gained just *that* much by giving their work a bit of historical flavor. Of course, I've admitted many times that I'm biased toward historical fiction.)

Overall, I enjoyed reading this. Plus, it was free on BookBub...for which you should sign up (also free) if you haven't already. Happy reading!

Jackrabbit Junction Jitters

Jackrabbit Junction Jitters is the sequel to Dance of the Winnebagos, which I read over the holidays and pegged as a "guilty pleasure," pleasurable enough to add the next Ann Charles mystery to my reading list. J-cubed, if you will, picks up where Dance left off. Harley and Ruby are about to be married and Claire and Mac find themselves embroiled in another mine-related mystery.

The strongest part of this book is the addition of two new characters, Claire's sister, Katie, and her mother, Deborah. The family dynamics - and fireworks - provide some of the more amusing incidents in Jitterbug Junction. That said, much of the plot requires entirely too much suspension of reality to be a really great read. I noted in my review of Dance that one of the big weaknesses of that book was that Claire frequently decisions that beggar belief; it's evidently a genetic trait her sister shares. The biggest difference between the first and second book in this series is though is that the first features a more compelling mystery, which makes up for the book's other weaknesses.

In the end, Jackrabbit Junction Jitters  is more guilty than pleasure.

The Strange Fate of Kitty Easton

Laurence Bartram is a church expert. In this role, he travels to Easton Deadall Hall at the request of his Great War pal, the architect William Bolitho, who has been hired to do a bit of restoration on the old chapel, and has discovered remarkable geometric patterns set into the floor. Before proceeding, William wants Laurence to see what he can make of it. While at Easton, Laurence is drawn into the family's tragic history: the only heir, 5-year-old, Kitty, disappeared one night before the war, never to be found. The patriarch was killed in the Great War, at the head of his men - which amounted to nearly every man from their small village. Laurence soon learns to accept nothing at face value, a lesson worth repeating when a body is found inside the ancient church whose secrets he has come to study.

Part Agatha Christie, part Downton Abbey, Elizabeth Speller's The Strange Fate of Kitty Easton is a pleasure to read. The story and characters are very much a product not only of its time - veterans of the Great War struggling to move forward - but of the very specific location Speller has chosen for Easton Hall - the low rises around Avebury. (Though neither here nor there as it relates to this book, what I remember of Avebury is the vast number of sheep ambling among the stones and the attention required, therefore, not to step in their excrement.) The story is well-constructed, the characters interesting, the resolution satisfactory. I ask little else of my mysteries; I enjoyed this one tremendously.

Dance of the Winnebagos

Thirty-three-year-old Claire Morgan gets more than she bargained for when she accompanies her grandfather (in his winnebago) to Arizona to meet old friends and new ladies. In addition to a serious case of TMI as far as her grandfather's love life is concerned, she finds herself in the middle of a growing mystery - and whomever wants to keep it quiet will stop at nothing to prevent Claire learning the truth.

Dance of the Winnebagos is a really quick, fun read. It shares a number of similarities with the Fudge mystery series: there's an extraneous romance; a young, female protagonist who's obviously in over her head and makes decisions that beggar belief; and a plot-driven narrative with a compelling mystery that is strong enough to overcome the two aforementioned weaknesses.

I've already added the next book in Ann Charles's series to my reading list.

The Hangman

As with Death of a Dentist, I brought Louise Penny's The Hangman on a long flight recently because I knew I could count on Penny to keep me turning the pages.

The Hangman is actually a novella. At a scant 55 pages, I read the whole book in less time than it took the flight attendants to serve dinner (it was a big plane). In any event, Armand Gamache investigates the death of a Three Pines visitor who is found hanging in a nearby forest by a jogger one morning. Although the signs point to suicide, Gamache is not convinced and begins asking questions.

A great, short read. Louise Penny continues to be one of my new favorites.