A murder mystery that combines Ngaio Marsh's two enduring loves - the theater and New Zealand.
Poor Roderick Alleyn! He can't even take a vacation without having to investigate a murder. It's the price of being Scotland Yard's most famous Chief Inspector and having your cases publicized by the London press, complete with your picture.
So when he's on a train on New Zealand's North Island and several mysteries (including what MAY be an attempted murder) upset a traveling theater company, he hopes that his misspelled name ("Allen") on the passenger lists will protect him from being dragged into their troubles. Faint hope. They recognize him and immediately turn to him for answers. Does the average person find police work so fascinating that they assume that no policeman ever WANTS to be off duty? Apparently.
After the troop arrives at its destination, they insist that Inspector Alleyn come to the show and attend the birthday party for Miss Dacres. Alleyn likes the theater and finds the members of the Carolyn Dacres Comedy Company entertaining, so he's game to be included. Of course, he doesn't anticipate (how could he?) that the producer and manager of the troop will die in what appears to be a bizarre, horrifying accident.
The mystery is a classic one, involving a group of people who live in strained closeness, complicated by romantic entanglements and professional jealousies. Alfred Meyer is admired as a generous, efficient employer - a rarity among traveling theater companies. Who would want him dead? Several people, as it turns out. What's a murder mystery with only one suspect?
His wife - beautiful, charming lead actress Carolyn Dacres - is fond of her unromantic husband, but she's in love with the handsome leading man. And she doesn't believe in divorce, so both of them have a motive, as does the troop member who stole money from the ingenue. If Meyer knows the guilty party, he can make things very unpleasant for that person. The ingenue is a spoiled rich girl who has a job because of her father's influence. She's always gotten her way and doesn't handle opposition well. Several of the actors show signs that their on-stage charm is a thin veneer that covers an unscrupulous character. And Meyer's partner would benefit financially from his death.
Then there are the hangers-on that acting companies collect like lint. A hot-headed "bear cub" - old English slang for the misbehaving scion of a wealthy family who's been sent abroad in hopes of reforming him. Or at least giving his family a break. He's got a crush on the lovely Miss Dacres and might be foolish enough to think that his passion is returned. He has a "leader" (an older cousin) who's supposed to be keeping him out of trouble, but Cousin is either incompetent or indifferent.
Inspector Alleyn must sort through the stories (many of them lies) and find motives and opportunities. Of course, the local police are in charge, but they're thrilled to have the expertise of the famous Scotland Yard man, especially in a case involving exotic characters like English actors. At first, they are awed by the author of the book on investigative procedures used in their training program, but they quickly come to admire his professionalism and humility. In other words, he treats them with the respect he shows to his subordinates in the London CID. Marsh once wrote that her greatest pleasure was when someone described Inspector Alleyn as a "nice guy" or a "likable chap." He really is and it makes this series a delight to read. Many fictional detectives are so obnoxious that I wouldn't mind if the murderer offed them.
Marsh trained as an artist, but (rightly or wrongly) believed that she wasn't good enough to make a career of it. Early on, she left Christchurch with an Australian acting company and from then on she was never far from a theater. She wrote and produced plays and is revered as the greatest patron of New Zealand theater. She's remembered for her mysteries, but she was named a Dame of the British Empire because of her contributions to the theater.
She liked actors and this book contains some memorable comments on them. She claims (convincingly) that their flamboyant personalities aren't fake, but simply the result of years of acting. If you pretend to be something long enough, it becomes reality for you. She is especially fond of the valiant "old troopers" like character actress Susan Max. The indomitable Susan was a character in the second book in this series and (just a warning) she and Inspector Alleyn reveal the identity of the murderer in that case. If you object to "spoilers", better read this series in order.
Marsh is remembered for her creation of a famous London detective, but she was a loyal Kiwi all of her life. She always maintained her ties to Christchurch and finished her long life there. Normally, I'm impatient when a mystery writer stops to describe the scenery, but Marsh's deep love of her native land and her pride in its beauty are touching.
Today, New Zealand is a popular travel destination, but in the 1930's few Americans could have found it on a globe. The English might have known relatives who emigrated there to raise sheep, but it was simply a former colony and (as such) considered inferior to Mother England. Marsh does a fine job of showing the New Zealand native's pride in his country and his fear that the English will despise it (and him.) Some of the slang is hard to get use to. "Good-Oh!" sounds like it should be coming from a small boy, not a middle-aged police superintendent. But once the local coppers open up to Alleyn, he's impressed with their shrewdness and their ability to navigate a complicated society.
The complication is the presence of the indigenous Maori and I think Marsh's attitude to them is typical of the era and may reflect her own uneasiness with the subject. She depicts the Maori as simple, contented folks, smiling from the doorways of their modest dwellings. In reality, they were a conquered people, living on land that the English invaders didn't want and powerless politically.
And yet, she shows respect for Maori culture. The most fascinating clue in the book is a small "tiki" - a Maori fetish or amulet given to Carolyn Dacres for her birthday. To the Maori it is a sacred object, but to the English it's an object of humor and scorn. This attitude is offensive to the Maori physician who's become friendly with the actors and Marsh makes it plain that she shares his indignation with their ignorant arrogance.
The doctor is in the uneasy position of an educated black man. A professional who speaks excellent English and is admired in his field, he knows that the color of his skin sets him apart from the white New Zealanders and always will. New Zealand was unique among former British colonies for not having a "color bar", but that doesn't mean the Maori didn't face racism.
There is a disturbing scene when his reaction to an insult causes him to "revert" to native savagery. Was this Marsh's way of justifying the continued subjugation of the Maori? Again, we have to judge her by the standards of the time when this book was written. Since her autobiography is no longer in print and not available on Kindle, I don't know if her attitude changed in later years. I suspect it did, just as some white Americans who had thought of segregation as "normal" began to take a different view because of the Civil Rights Movement in the 1950's and 60's.
Most of the books in this series (as far as I've gotten) are very good mysteries. This one is exceptional because of what it reveals about the author and her passions. She was an intelligent, eccentric woman and getting to know her through her books is a privilege.