| Publisher | Vintage |
|---|---|
| Date Published | 13 October 2022 |
| ISBN-10 | 1529115310 |
| ISBN-13 | 978-1529115314 |
| Format | paperback |
| Pages | 256 |
| Price | £ 8.99 |
Murder at the Theatre Royale
by
Christmas 1935. When a new production of Dickens' A Christmas Carol brings violent death to the West End stage, intrepid reporter, Daphne King is just the woman to solve this seasonal murder mystery.
Review
Murder at the Theatre Royale by Ada Moncrieff belongs to a genre I have only recently become aware of – variously described as cosy crime, cosy mysteries and in this case cosy Christmas crime!
Moncrieff does a good job of conjuring up the 1930s setting although I am not sure that bimbo was a word used in that era! Thirty-something Daphne King is a rather overlooked features writer on the London Daily Chronicle. She has a loyal following for her very popular Dear Susan advice column, but she feels that she is stuck in a rut and she's fed up with seeing less talented male colleagues promoted above her.
Daphne has aspirations to be a crime reporter and fancies herself as an amateur detective. And this is one of the curious aspects of this book. It seems that Daphne is already rather good friends with Inspector Marklow who leads the ensuing murder investigation. It is apparent that she has already had some success as an amateur sleuth, so I assumed that Daphne features in Ada Moncrieff's previous Christmas mystery, but this doesn't seem to be the case at all.
Daphne pleads with her editor to give her a meatier assignment than Dear Susan and it just so happens that the Chronicle's resident theatre critic has been taken ill. Even though it is December 22, the snow is falling and she is due to spend Christmas with her mother, Daphne jumps at the chance to do an in-depth piece on the new production at London's Theatre Royale.
When the leading man collapses and dies on stage, apparently of a heart attack, super sleuth Daphne feels that things are not as they should be as she knows a thing or two about poisonous mushrooms from her Dear Susan days.
Murder at the Theatre Royale has a small cast: there's Scrooge, played by the leading man; one actor playing all the ghosts; then Bob Cratchit and Tiny Tim, plus a couple of theatrical agents, a stage manager and his bohemian scriptwriter sister. They are all suspects.
Daphne gets down to business, but another odd thing is that no one seems to seriously question her credentials and her editor seems happy to give her free rein. There is another murder and the body is discovered by Daphne, of course, and then all the pieces fall into place. Fortunately for all concerned, including the reader, the whole investigation takes less than 48 hours and Daphne still files her copy and gets home in time to spend Christmas with her aged mother.
Midsomer Murders came to mind as I finished this book. Everything is well explained to the assembled cast at the denouement but really, anyone could have dunit and the revelations are all somewhat far-fetched. But none of that seems to matter. It's Christmas and entertainment needs to be jolly and undemanding, especially if it can be a little bit bloodthirsty too!
Moncrieff does a good job of conjuring up the 1930s setting although I am not sure that bimbo was a word used in that era! Thirty-something Daphne King is a rather overlooked features writer on the London Daily Chronicle. She has a loyal following for her very popular Dear Susan advice column, but she feels that she is stuck in a rut and she's fed up with seeing less talented male colleagues promoted above her.
Daphne has aspirations to be a crime reporter and fancies herself as an amateur detective. And this is one of the curious aspects of this book. It seems that Daphne is already rather good friends with Inspector Marklow who leads the ensuing murder investigation. It is apparent that she has already had some success as an amateur sleuth, so I assumed that Daphne features in Ada Moncrieff's previous Christmas mystery, but this doesn't seem to be the case at all.
Daphne pleads with her editor to give her a meatier assignment than Dear Susan and it just so happens that the Chronicle's resident theatre critic has been taken ill. Even though it is December 22, the snow is falling and she is due to spend Christmas with her mother, Daphne jumps at the chance to do an in-depth piece on the new production at London's Theatre Royale.
When the leading man collapses and dies on stage, apparently of a heart attack, super sleuth Daphne feels that things are not as they should be as she knows a thing or two about poisonous mushrooms from her Dear Susan days.
Murder at the Theatre Royale has a small cast: there's Scrooge, played by the leading man; one actor playing all the ghosts; then Bob Cratchit and Tiny Tim, plus a couple of theatrical agents, a stage manager and his bohemian scriptwriter sister. They are all suspects.
Daphne gets down to business, but another odd thing is that no one seems to seriously question her credentials and her editor seems happy to give her free rein. There is another murder and the body is discovered by Daphne, of course, and then all the pieces fall into place. Fortunately for all concerned, including the reader, the whole investigation takes less than 48 hours and Daphne still files her copy and gets home in time to spend Christmas with her aged mother.
Midsomer Murders came to mind as I finished this book. Everything is well explained to the assembled cast at the denouement but really, anyone could have dunit and the revelations are all somewhat far-fetched. But none of that seems to matter. It's Christmas and entertainment needs to be jolly and undemanding, especially if it can be a little bit bloodthirsty too!
Reviewed 17 December 2022 by Viv Beeby
