Books of the Week
- Last Writes, Catherine Aird
- The Last Kashmiri Rose, Barbara Cleverly
- Now You See Her, Sharon Bolton
- Murder in Waiting, Mignon G. Eberhart
Even minor work by Catherine Aird is sure to entertain, and this collection of her short stories is no exception. Some of the stories are about the characters who made her name: Detective Inspector Sloan and Detective Constable Crosby. Some are about Henry Tyler, works in the government just prior to WWII, and always has a revelation when he’s visiting his married sister in the country. And some are about Rhuaraidh Macmillan, Sheriff of Fearnshire in the time of Mary Tudor, who is every bit as good a detective as a modern Sherlock. Last Writes is a good book to have on your shelf for when you just want a small bite.
If you are an enthusiastic reader of historic mysteries, you really need to pick up Barbara Cleverly’s The Last Kashmiri Rose. This book had been on my TBR pile for quite a time, and I pulled it out almost at random. Set in India in 1922, it’s about a series of murders of Englishwomen, all regimental wives. In a terrible climate and in an inhospitable social setting, Scotland Yard Inspector Joe Sandilands is sent to investigate the crimes. This’ll knock your socks off. It’s a great snapshot of a moment in history.
Sharon Bolton was a familiar name, though I’d never read her work, but Now You See Her was highly recommended by a friend. I am so glad it was. Set in England, it’s a twisty whodunit with a surprise around every corner. Detective Constable Lacey Flint, visiting a housing project to talk to a witness, is horrified to find a woman knifed to death propped up against her car. Flint is not a serious suspect in the death, but she’s eyed with suspicion by some, especially the scarred Detective Joesbury, who seems to have it in for Lacey. Her rough background counts against Lacey. She is trying hard to be a great cop, but struggling against the minor lawlessness in the past, and her sting as a homeless person. But someone’s stalking her, someone who knows all about Lacey.
Mignon G. Eberhart is a familiar name to anyone who started reading mysteries in the fifties and sixties, though her career began much earlier. Eberhart wrote over fifty books and was named a Grand Master of the Mystery Writers of America, a huge honor. Her best-known works are about Nurse Sarah Keate, but this novel is about Bea Bartry, whose uncle’s murder opens the book. Bea’s uncle was a judge, and he was writing his memoirs, and he was beginning to suffer from dementia, which pretty much guarantees he’ll be killed if you’re reading a murder mystery. Murder in Waiting has all the Eberhart trademarks: an affluent setting, thwarted young love, and a satisfying ending.
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Easter is almost on us, and with it the Christian traditions of dying eggs, imagining a giant rabbit that hides them, and overdosing on chocolate and ham. Nowadays the eggs are plastic and filled with (more) candy, which takes the suspense out of finding them. My husband often relates the story of the Easter it was raining at his parents’ house, so the real eggs were hidden all around, including down in the basement. Uncounted. So no one knew one was missing until a terrible smell arose down the stairs . . .
Now our daughter, in her capacity as Tia J, hides the eggs in our yard, and our grandchildren search for them with great excitement. This will be the first Easter our granddaughter has been able to walk, so she’ll get to hunt by herself. But we’ll all be watching! Happiness can be so simple.
Whether you’re a Christian or not, it’s Spring! There’s no more optimistic time of the year. It seems possible you’re really going to clean out that closet, give away those books, or organize that cabinet. Our frozen northern neighbors will certainly thaw out. Our own jonquils will bloom, and then the azaleas. Sweaters and coats will be banished to the back of the closet once again.
And in late April, early May, I’ll be on the road, very much off and on, for a couple of months. But I’m pushing off thinking about that now. For now, my thoughts are on that giant bunny.
Charlaine Harris