Starred review
The English village of Finch has been beset by an ice storm instead of the usual picture-perfect Christmas snow, but Lori Shepherd insists on a bit of cheer by making a run to dear friend Emma’s annual party. While she’s there, a car hits the ice and lands in a ditch outside. They invite the frazzled driver, Matilda “Tilly” Trout, inside, where she is able to answer a question that has long puzzled Emma—the odd-looking room in Emma’s home is a former Roman Catholic chapel. Lori, Emma and company find a compartment inside the chapel that contains actual treasure, but how did it get there? There are no murders to solve in Aunt Dimity and the Heart of Gold, just a story in need of unraveling. Nancy Atherton’s series finds kindness and human connection in frosty times, and the good hearts of Finch will warm yours.

If practiced well, the oft-maligned art of gossip can unearth as much evidence as a CSI team. Just ask the Countess of Harleigh, back for a second turn in A Lady’s Guide to Gossip and Murder. The American transplant has found her footing amid England’s upper crust. She’s looking forward to a quiet end to summer until a friend, Mary Archer, is found murdered and Lady Harleigh’s own cousin is questioned. A romantic subplot or two don’t slow the hunt for Mary’s killer, which may involve a blackmail scheme and thus an ever-expanding suspect pool. After all, gossip is well and good until it’s about you. Author Dianne Freeman handles class disparity with care and has created a world that readers will want to explore in more depth as the series continues. 

Anna Gerard’s Peach Clobbered introduces Nina Fleet, new to Cymbeline, Georgia, and tentatively converting her gorgeous home into a B&B. Harry Westcott claims the house as his rightful inheritance, though he may have hurt his credibility a bit by showing up to argue his case in a penguin suit, then collapsing with heatstroke. Next thing you know, half a dozen displaced nuns are living chez Nina, and someone wearing the same penguin suit has been murdered. Nina, the sisters and Harry try to solve the crime, but what happened is far from black and white. Nina is a spirited lead, and the town is full of supporting characters that add to the mosaic of Cymbeline. Peach Clobbered is a perfect armchair vacation of a book.

When you are born into a region or era where poverty, addiction and crime are the norm, is it possible to escape and start life fresh? Or are we destined to follow in the footsteps of the generations that came before us? These are the questions confronting the main characters in two gritty new mysteries from Laura Lippman and Laura McHugh.

In Lippman’s Lady in the Lake, Madeline “Maddie” Schwartz leaves her husband and a privileged lifestyle to start over in 1966 Baltimore. After essentially stumbling across the body of a missing child, Maddie uses her moment in the spotlight to worm her way into a job at the city’s newspaper, first as an assistant to a life columnist and later as a reporter. Maddie quickly learns that if she wants to get noticed, she must assert herself, and thus takes up the case of a missing black woman no one else seems to care about.

Lippman alternates chapters between Maddie’s POV and secondary characters she encounters along the way—including the ghost of the missing woman. Most of the secondary characters don’t add much in the way of plot development to the overall story, but what they do add is a unique perspective to the social, cultural and economic climate that engulfs the book.

Lippman, who is best known for her award-winning Tess Monaghan series, worked at The Baltimore Sun for 20 years, giving her a firsthand perspective on both the world of women in journalism as well as life in Baltimore. While she depicts a city in the throes of 1960s-era racism and crime, she was quick to defend the city in the wake of President Trump’s recent rant against Rep. Elijah Cummings in which he called Baltimore a “rat and rodent infested mess.” “Cities are resilient,” Lippman told NPR in response. “The fact that we survive or thrive at all in the light of terrible problems isn't to be criticized; it’s to be celebrated.”

In The Wolf Wants in, the third novel from McHugh, young Henley Pettit wants nothing more than to get out of Blackwater, Kansas, and start life over again, free of the restraints her impoverished rural surroundings have forced upon her. But when there is no money, when there is no clear escape and when family constantly pull at you from all directions, dreams can all too easily be dashed.

With crime and addiction common among Blackwater’s populace, it isn’t entirely shocking when the body of a missing 10-year-old girl is discovered in the woods outside of town. A second set of bones, believed to be those of the girl’s father, are also soon discovered.

Meanwhile, Sadie Keller, the other protagonist of the story, launches her own investigation into the death of her brother, Shane, and his connection to the recently discovered bodies. Sadie and Henley’s stories, along with those of their extended families, ultimately intertwine in a complex tale of deceit, secrets and questions perhaps best left unanswered.

Both mysteries are grim, realistic portraits of lifestyles and regions too often overlooked in today’s literary landscape. The writers weave stories that are gloomy, heart-rending and oftentimes depressing. But both writers also do what literary masters do so well: They offer a glimmer of hope.

These two delicious new mysteries are a book nerd’s delight! One’s a modern-day retelling of a perennially popular short story, and the other imagines the personal lives of three women we know mainly through their published work.

Holly Watt’s To the Lions is a darkly compelling tale drawn from the real-life adventures of its British investigative journalist author. It’s also the latest take on the 1924 O. Henry Award-winning short story, “The Most Dangerous Game.”

Our heroine, Casey Benedict, is an intrepid investigative reporter at a major London newspaper. She and her colleague, Miranda, are intelligent and daring women who view immense risk as just another part of the job. When Casey (in disguise, natch) overhears a disturbing conversation at a nightclub, her interest is piqued. Why did a wealthy young man named Milo commit suicide, and what did it have to do with a recent hush-hush hunting expedition?

The women soon realize that Milo’s demise merely scratches the surface of a host of grim goings-on—namely, a group of powerful, wealthy men who go to North Africa for the most horrific of hunts. As the journalists work to infiltrate the network (with the newsroom team offering clever strategy and on-the-spot saves), the reporters find themselves confronting questions they’ve long avoided answering. Why do they do this work? Are they fearless or reckless? How far will they go to get the story?

The hunters and the hunted battle for primacy in a harrowing and exciting tale that’s at once as old as time and newly illuminating thanks to Watt’s skillfully crafted, thought-provoking examination of power, corruption and morality.

Now, let’s turn back the clock with Bella Ellis’ The Vanished Bride. It’s 1845 in Yorkshire, and the Brontë sisters—Charlotte, Emily and Anne, not yet published writers—are shocked to learn that their neighbor, Elizabeth Chester, has gone missing. A copious quantity of blood was left behind, the police don’t seem to be very concerned, and her known-to-be-violent husband isn’t pushing for answers.

The sisters decide to join forces and investigate as a way to get justice for Elizabeth, put their prodigious imaginations to good use and do something meaningful rather than sitting at home bemoaning their spinsterhood. It’s a risky undertaking in a stiflingly patriarchal time, but the sisters are determined, and more than a bit excited, ’tis true.

The Brontës venture near and far in pursuit of the truth, becoming masters of subterfuge and subtle manipulation along the way. Readers will thrill to the chase as clues reveal themselves, witnesses step forward and fade back, and the sisters’ charming and feckless brother Branwell pops up to urge them on or throw a wrench into things.

This first book in a series is an engaging, smart and inspiring read. Ellis writes with both reverence and sly humor, skillfully blending fact and fiction. In her hands, it’s pure fun to imagine what the Brontës, themselves a bit of a mystery, were really like—and to picture them sleuthing across the moors, undeterred by sexism, mortal danger or prohibitively poufy petticoats.

For readers in the mood for murder and mayhem with a light touch come two laugh-out-loud mysteries from Lynne Truss and Susan Isaacs.

In the first entry of Truss’ mystery series, 2018’s A Shot in the Dark, the year was 1957, and 22-year-old Constable Twitten, an upper-crust know-it-all whose father was a famous criminal psychologist, had just joined the Brighton police force. His arrival came not a moment too soon, as his boss, Inspector Steine, and senior officer Sergeant Brunswick had (through their sheer blundering obliviousness) nurtured a thriving community of thieves, murderers and con men in Brighton. The majority of these lawbreakers report to the police station’s charlady, Mrs. Groynes, who leads a double life as the mastermind of Brighton’s seething criminal element—but only Twitten knows the truth about their Cockney compatriot.

When The Man That Got Away begins, Twitten is reading Noblesse Oblige by Nancy Mitford, a real book that addressed vocabulary differences between English social classes, albeit in a somewhat satirical way. The bestseller becomes a running motif of the novel: “It’s been quite controversial,” Twitten tells Inspector Steine, who has clearly not personally caught a whiff of the controversy. “And I’m sure the whole field of socio-linguistics has practical applications for policework, you see, but people keep getting annoyed when I talk about it, so I should probably bally well belt up about it, sir.”

When a bright young civil servant, Peter Dupont, has his throat slit in broad daylight, Constable Twitten launches an investigation, despite Inspector Steine’s boneheaded insistence that Peter died by suicide. Mrs. Groynes claims she can help—but can straight arrow Twitten bring himself to partner with a cold-blooded criminal, no matter how nice her cakes and cuppas are?

Truss expertly mines this slapstick absurdity for maximum amusement. When a couple of “Brighton Belles” encounter a strange old man on the pier trying to pass himself off as nobility-in-exile and trying to fence gold bricks for 25 pounds apiece, “the two women exchanged glances. They’d been warned about con men, but they’d somehow imagined that a con man would be a little bit harder to spot.” At one point, Mrs. Groynes absent-mindedly reveals a familiarity with the criminal underworld no charlady should have, and “Twitten watched as the ghost of a question crossed Brunswick’s face, but (as usual) didn’t settle.”

The Man That Got Away is a dark, screwball crime novel in the vein of the 1955 British film The Ladykillers that will also appeal to fans of Truss’ runaway bestselling grammar guide, Eats, Shoots & Leaves—as well as Anglophiles in general. Chock full of clues, criss-crossing subplots and wry dialogue, Truss’ latest is a pleasure from start to finish.

The inimitable Susan Isaacs, master of sardonically witty observation and genre-bending suspense, is back with Takes One to Know One, her first standalone novel since 2012. Thirty-five-year-old FBI agent Corie Geller has traded in her badge for the chi-chi enclave of Shorehaven, Long Island: “When I married Joshua Geller and adopted Eliza a year later, I had such a bubbly version of suburban life. Ah, normality! I pictured a racially and ethnically diverse group of friends holding Starbucks cups, dressed like a Ralph Lauren ad, each demanding to know if I thought Naguib Mahfouz deserved to win the Nobel Prize.”

Josh and Eliza provide the cozy stability that Corie has always craved, and life as an agent was never really part of her plan anyway. After 9/11, Corie ended up being using her degree in Arabic to follow her dad into law enforcement in the counterterrorism division of the FBI. But when Corie becomes a mom and moves to the ’burbs, leaving the bureau for a job “on the outskirts of publishing”—reading Arabic-language novels and evaluating them for potential translation—feels like a natural end point for her first career. “There was nothing more I thought I wanted than what Josh offered,” Corie observes. She’s happy enough to let new acquaintances assume she has always worked in publishing rather than voluntarily share details of her former career.

But Corie realizes she misses her life as a special agent when her past beckons from the strangest of places—her weekly lunch meet-up of freelancers, none of whom know the truth about Corie’s professional past. Pete Delaney, a freelance packaging designer, captures her attention by sitting in the same spot at lunch every week and keeping a watchful eye on the parking lot. Yet aside from this quirk, “truly, the only intriguing aspect of Pete—a guy so careful, so predictable—was that he was so nothing. His friendly neighbor shtick felt like an add-on, as if he recognized that he, too, needed some gear to tote around.” The FBI academy trained Corie not to ignore her gut—and her gut ends up leading her into a possibly hair-brained investigation that ensnares her retired cop dad, her college best friend and her former lover—but leaves her husband completely in the dark.

With shades of Agatha Christie and “Law & Order,” blended with the high drama of a conventional suspense thriller and a generous portion of Isaacs’ signature wry and brainy observational humor, Takes One to Know One will be catnip to longtime Isaacs fans and new readers alike.

Three new mysteries gain extra depth from their settings in decadent Gilded Age New York, interwar London and rural World War II-era Britain.

Dowager countess Philomena Amesbury left England behind for the bright lights of turn-of-the-century Manhattan when the miserable husband she was practically sold off to finally had the good sense to die. Now Phil is determined to live life to the fullest—and it certainly helps that her bills are paid by a mysterious benefactor, Mr. X, who periodically leaves clues in her path. In Tell Me No Lies, author Shelley Noble turns Phil loose on a case with suspects to spare.

When the young heir to a fortune is found stuffed into a laundry chute after a party, investigating detectives would like nothing more than for Phil to butt out. But she received a heads-up about the case from Mr. X, and before long she’s on the intriguing trail. The clues lead her through the Plaza Hotel and the Metropolitan Museum of Art, but much more is revealed at a country house where tempers grow short and the fog makes it dreadfully hard to see who’s milling about. Add in some tantalizing romantic potential (Lady Phil’s benefactor won’t show his face, but he does occasionally show up and spend the night) and a hot air balloon chase, and you’ve got suspense steeped in Gilded Age glamour, and a very good time indeed.

The Body on the Train pits investigator Kate Shackleton against, well, almost everyone by story’s end. Scotland Yard enlists her to help identify the titular body, which was found in a sack on a train carrying rhubarb. Kate finds credible information hard to come by among the Yorkshire residents she talks to. The train may have departed from there, but the community’s internal struggles have made them wary of outsiders. Soon Kate is investigating a second murder along with a labor dispute and a battle over land use—and trying to save her own neck in the bargain.

Author Frances Brody lets Kate wander at will, and it’s a pleasure to follow her. She stays at the home of a friend under the pretext of creating a local photography feature, and the photos she takes of people and places are described so vividly you can almost see them. The struggle to balance the rights of workers and the needs of an impoverished community makes for a tense backdrop, and Kate’s relationship with her friend is strained as she learns more about the friend’s role in both. When everyone’s motives are suspect, it’s impossible to know who to trust, and this thriller makes great use of that fact in a truly chilling climax.

Poppy Redfern is doing her bit for England’s war effort. Her family home and farm have been seized so the U.S. Air Force can use them, and Poppy serves as an air raid warden, helping with drills and checking the village for any glimpse of light through the blackout curtains. But when two young women who had been dating American servicemen are found strangled to death, suddenly wartime allies seem like potential enemies stationed too close to home. In Poppy Redfern and the Midnight Murders author Tessa Arlen layers suspicion on top of suspicion against a backdrop of privation and English resolve.

Local distrust of the “Yanks” runs so high that it may well divert attention away from a killer hiding in plain sight. But Poppy’s easy friendship with one of the Americans could be leading her to trust too readily. (It’s hard to be mad at someone who can get real beef in the midst of rationing.) She works out her theories of the case via a novel in progress whose protagonist always seems to have the answers she lacks. Vivid settings and high emotions keep the suspense at fever pitch, but it’s the characters that make Arlen’s series kickoff such a stunner.