A model is murdered in this "first-rate" detective story by the Mystery Writers of America Grand Master (Kirkus Reviews).
On a ship traveling back to England, Miss Agatha Troy finds Inspector Roderick Alleyn tedious and dull; he thinks she's a bohemian cliché. They may be destined for romance, but there's a murder in the way: No sooner has Alleyn settled in to his mother's house, eager for a relaxing end to his vacation,
At an English pub, a dart becomes a deadly weapon: "Any Ngaio Marsh story is certain to be Grade A." —The New York Times
A game of darts does involve some danger, but it's rarely lethal. There are exceptions, however, like the famous barrister who was enjoying a pint at the Plume of Feathers pub, and is now residing at the morgue. But Inspector Roderick Alleyn has a growing hunch that this peculiar "accident" can be traced
Folkways turn fatal in a very old-fashioned English village, in this witty mystery filled with "ingenious" detective work (Kirkus Reviews, starred review).
The village of South Mardian likes the old ways. The very old ways. This may be 1957, but South Mardian still features a blacksmith, a village idiot, and an elaborate fertility ritual performed at the winter solstice. There's squabbling, of course, and worse—like when
A local busybody is silenced for good in this tale by "a peerless practitioner of the slightly surreal, English-village comedy-mystery" (Kirkus Reviews).
In their Dorset village, neither Miss Campanula nor her friend Miss Prentice are known as lovable little old ladies. They're waspish, gossiping snobby little old ladies, passionate only about their amateur theatrical productions, their narrowly defined opinions about how everyone
|Pub. Date||Edition||Publisher||Phys Desc.||Language||Availability|
|||Felony & Mayhem edition.||Felony & Mayhem Press||215 pages ; 21 cm.||English|| |
Bellevue - Adult Fiction
Donelson - Adult Fiction
Edmondson Pike - Adult Fiction
This tale of murder at a snowed-in country house is a "constant puzzle to the end . . . alive with wit" (The New York Times).
The unspeakably wealthy (and generally unspeakable) Jonathan Royal has decided to throw a party and, just for fun, has studded the guest list with people who loathe one another. When a blizzard imprisons them all in Royal's country house, murder ensues, and there are nearly as many suspects as there are
Crime comes to a country house:"Any Ngaio Marsh story is certain to be Grade A, and this one is no exception." —The New York Times
This classic from the Golden Age of British mystery opens during a country-house party between the two world wars—servants bustling, gin flowing, the gentlemen in dinner jackets, the ladies all slink and smolder. Even more delicious: The host, Sir Hubert Handesley, has invented a
A police inspector finds trouble during a trip to New Zealand: "It's time to start comparing Christie to Marsh instead of the other way around." —New York Magazine
Inspector Roderick Alleyn has taken a break from England and journeyed to New Zealand, and traveling along with him are the members of the Carolyn Dacres English Comedy Company. The actors' operatic intrigues offer an amusing diversion—until, unexpectedly,
A visiting dignitary in London asks for security—and gets extra help from a clever feline—in a novel starring "the nonpareil among criminal investigators" (The New York Times).
Superintendent Alleyn's old school chum, nicknamed the "Boomer," has become the president of the newly emerged African nation of Ng'ombwana, newly emerged in the wake of colonialism. Old school ties being what they are, his friend—making
Murder strikes a sour note at a jazz concert in this classic detective novel from the Mystery Writers of America Grand Master.
Lord Pastern and Bagott is given to passionate, peculiar enthusiasms, the latest of which is drumming in a jazz band. His wife is not amused, and she is even less so when her daughter falls for Carlos Rivera, the band's sleazy accordion player. Nobody likes Rivera very much, so there's a wealth of suspects when
An aristocrat dies under fishy circumstances in this tale by "the finest writer in the English language of the pure, classical puzzle whodunnit" (The Sun).
In an almost unspeakably charming little English village, one of the local aristocrats turns up dead next to the local trout-stream with, in fact, a trout at his side. Everyone is dreadfully upset, of course, but really, just a tad irritated as well—murder is so awfully
A British tour group in Italy finds murder is an obstacle to their sightseeing: "Fastidious writing [and] a fine appreciation of place." —Sunday Times
A group of well-to-do tourists is visiting Italy's magnificent churches, but they've found themselves stumbling into an unholy web of blackmail and drug-smuggling—and, in the depths of a Roman basilica, murder. Fortunately Inspector Roderick Alleyn is among the group
En route to a family vacation on the French Riviera, Inspector Roderick Alleyn glimpses from the train a shocking tableau. In a moonlit window, a white-robed figure raises a knife to a woman's shadow. Thus begins his incognito exploration of the Chateau of the Silver Goat, where a jet-set cult's "Way of Life" could spell death for a maiden lady of a certain age—and even for Alleyn's own young son—unless he can unveil its illicit mysteries.
Lord Pastern fired his revolver. The figure in the spotlight fell and the coup-de-theatre had become murder. Could Inspector Alleyn believe Pastern had let hatred of his future son-in-law go too far?
When Lord Pastern Bagott takes up with the hot music of Breezy Bellair and His Boys, his disapproving wife Cecile has more than usual to be unhappy about. The band's devastatingly handsome but roguish accordionist, Carlos Rivera, has taken a...
A policeman in the audience sees an all-too-real death scene on a London stage: "Good enough to satisfy the most critical reader of detective stories." —The New York Times
Inspector Roderick Alleyn has been invited to an opening night, a new play in which two characters quarrel and then struggle for a gun, with predictably sad results. Even sadder, the gun was not, in fact, loaded with blanks. And when it comes to interviewing
Tainted wine sends a member of a religious sect to meet her maker in a witty mystery marked by "quiet, intelligent deduction" (Kirkus Reviews).
Did lovely Cara Quoyne get a whiff of the bitter almonds as she raised the goblet to her lips? We'll never know: With a single sip of prussic acid she transported herself to the Hereafter.
Now Inspector Alleyn must investigate a murder at the House of the Sacred Flame, a rather quirky