Błyskotliwe dialogi, nietuzinkowi bohaterowie i zwodnicze tropy – Poświąteczne morderstwo to wyjątkowy bożonarodzeniowy kryminał.
Stary dobry wujek Willie, nienasycony łakomczuch i epickie utrapienie w jednym, przybywa na wieś, aby spędzić z krewnymi święta. Traf chce, że w drugi dzień świąt Bożego Narodzenia zostaje znaleziony martwy w śniegu w stroju Świętego Mikołaja. Wygląda na to, że ktoś mógł zatruć jego czekoladkę... A może chodziło o babeczkę?
Policja zaczyna krążyć po domu, a potomkowie Williego, dawni przyjaciele i dalecy krewni zostają wciągnięci w zagmatwane śledztwo. Kto mógł zyskać na jego śmierci? Nadinspektor Culley, próbując dociec, co się dokładnie wydarzyło, napotyka przeróżne komplikacje...
Poświąteczne morderstwo po raz pierwszy opublikowane w 1944 roku, zręcznie wykorzystuje schematy kryminałów Złotej Ery. Napisane jest z ogromną swadą i ze wspaniałym poczuciem humoru.
I will give this points for its madcap tone but that wasn't the read I was looking for so my enjoyment was tempered. I think this would make for a great adaptation. Country house, a large cast of characters and running jokes ("...but not until after Christmas") and all the Christmas trimmings including mince pies (so many mince pies!). It could be fun and I'd likely love it but as a reader, I just didn't. I really wanted to puzzle this out but this story just really wasn't having it.
The murder takes place within the first quarter of the way in and that was to the good. Chapter 6 finds the body & the whole story spans 18 chapters. I assumed that once the detectives arrived on the scene the story would take on a more serious tone. Not so much. Anyway, I don't expect to love every book and I'm glad I read this. It had all the things my season reads heart desires and I felt all holiday hungover after it. Ticket punched.
I will, of course, continue reading the British Library Crime Classics.
A Coal After Christmas Review of the British Library Crime Classics paperback (October 10, 2021) of the original Macdonald & Co. hardcover (1944).
It is a thin line between "ingenious" (as described in the Goodreads synopsis for Murder After Christmas) and "convoluted and confusing," which is what I found the book to be. Rich Uncle Willie comes to stay with the Redpaths for Christmas and is then found shortly afterwards dead and dressed as Santa Claus inside a snowman outside the house. Investigation reveals the cause as poisoning, but the exact source is uncertain and how did the body get inside the snowman anyway? There are plenty of suspects as it is uncertain who will inherit. A further complication arises when it is revealed that his wife is dead as well. Who inherits is dependent on which of them died first.
The tone of the book did not feel in keeping with the subject matter, as it had too much levity and jokes about murdering the old man before the event actually occurs. The convoluted plot then made it rather hard to follow. Overall this became only a so-so read, but it was still perfect for the season. It continues my annual tradition of reading a seasonally themed British Library Crime Classic at this time of the year.
The original source print for the cover of “Murder After Christmas” from Colliers Magazine 1930. Image sourced from the Mary Evans Picture Library.
As explained in editor Martin Edwards' introduction, Rupert Latimer was the penname of Algernon Victor Mills (1905-1953) who only wrote 2 or 3 novels. Even the exact number is uncertain as it is possible that Death in Real Life and The Unenchanted Circle are the same book under different titles.
Trivia and Links The British Library Crime Classic series are reprints of forgotten titles from the 1860's through to the 1950's. You can see a list at the British Library Crime Classics Shop (for North America they are reprinted by the publisher Poisoned Pen Press). There is also a Goodreads Listopia for the series which you can see here.
What starts out like it'll be a cozy Christmas crime read (try saying that quickly), is actually quite snarky in tone, surprising to me at least for a book written in the 1940s.
Before the actual murder happens, chapters whizz by with all the characters making jokes about offing another character, as if it's nothing, they do this all the time and there's a war on, you know.
It's well written, but I thought the mystery itself gets kind of lost in all the back-and-forth.
(Thanks to Poisoned Pen Press for providing me with a Christmas review copy through NetGalley)
I found this a delightful, hilarious and amusing little puzzle of a murder. The first half is sorting out who’s who and why so many love yet want the victim dead obviously not over Christmas. So scene is set for a murder at some point and then mass confusion reigns with so many characters trying/failing and basically getting in the way of the poor detectives to work out what has gone on. This is where the book for me stumbles a bit, due to certain characters it becomes almost pantomime in certain of its scenes. I couldn’t understand how they worked it out and really by that point I was as bamboozled as the chief Constable. I am not sure what I feel about this, as it was fun and very good festive but at the same time it was all a bit too much. And a bit waffle. Wasn’t keen on the detective either. But over all it’s still decent just not on par with the golden greats
Uncle Willie is rich and old, and therefore would be much more useful to his greedy relatives dead than alive, if only they could be sure who he’d left his money to. The Redpaths have reluctantly invited him to stay over Christmas, and jokingly discuss how they could go about murdering him – after Christmas, obviously, because they wouldn’t want to spoil the festivities. They’re not the only people who want Uncle Willie’s money though, and soon all kinds of relatives are turning up to try to inveigle themselves into his good graces. Happily for all involved Uncle Willie is indeed murdered, after Christmas.
This is told as a kind of farce and is one of those where it will all depend on whether the humour works for a reader or not. In my case, unfortunately mostly not. There are parts that are quite amusing, but it is repetitive to the point where the joke wears very thin indeed, and since all the characters are utterly unlikeable, including Uncle Willie, there was no one for me to care about, which might have kept my interest. The plot is convoluted and the cast of greedy relatives so large that I never really worked out who was who or how they were related to Uncle Willie and each other.
However, there is much talk of mince pies and Santa Clauses, and there are footprints in the snow, and a snowman, and lots of boxes of chocolate, so it does have enough festive jollity to just about carry it through the general messiness. Not sure I’d recommend it as a particularly good mystery, but if you’re in the mood for something light and the humour happens to work for you, then it’s an enjoyable enough way to spend a few festive hours. 2½ stars for me, so rounded up.
NB This book was provided for review by the publisher, the British Library.
Author Rupert Latimer weaves a novel that’s equal parts Golden Age mystery and P.G. Wodehouse. The large cast of family members, neighbors, hangers-on and constabulary are humorous without becoming silly or twee. The family’s laugh-out-loud antics and the sly comments on wartime England along with a surprisingly puzzling mystery add up to a wonderful read.
Sadly, Rupert Latimer (pen name for Algernon Vernon Mills), sickly from boyhood, died relatively young and produced only a few murder mysteries; I can only hope that British Library Crime Classics chooses to rerelease every last one.
In the interest of full disclosure, I received this book from NetGalley and Poisoned Pen Press in exchange for an honest review.
Thank you to NetGalley and Poisoned Pen Press for an e-galley of this novel.
If you are familiar with the project Martin Edwards and the British Library have embarked on, you will understand why it is significant when Martin Edwards calls a book "unorthodox" in his introduction to the story. This one definitely fits that description. At times I couldn't figure out whether the characters were meant to be as strange as the narration indicated or if this was just the style of writing of Rupert Latimer. It's for sure I needed to keep that description in mind as I read this Christmas murder mystery that seemed to go right off the rails at times. Still, I'm very glad it has been made available once again and glad I read it - once.
Sir Willoughby Keene-Cotton is unable to travel to his villa in San Remo Italy this Christmas season because of the unpleasantness of war on the Continent. Sir Willoughby's stepdaughter, Rhoda Redpath, decides to invite him to come to them for Christmas. After all, with all this cold weather maybe he will catch a chill and die. Said in a joking way, of course. Or was it? When the joke turns out to be true everything hangs on exactly when Sir Willoughby actually died. A lot of people have a stake in that information and the police are having a hard time getting proof of much of anything with all the strange characters wandering about the place.
This is unorthodox, yes, but it is also interesting to read and especially difficult to try to figure out. The author put in so many twists and turns I had no idea of who, what, or when but I was pretty sure of where! Turned out I was wrong.
I did not enjoy this parody of detective fiction. There were so many characters, telling lies and keeping secrets, it was nearly impossible to remember who was who and the storyline was convoluted and silly. Not to mention the mince pies! One star for the nice cover illustration.
Out of all the books I have read so far from the golden period of crime ‘Murder After Christmas’ is one of the most entertaining and enjoyable. It is a hidden gem. As one other reviewer put it, it’s cross between PG Woodhouse and a classic whodunnit. Trying to solve the crime is half the fun, the other half is the brilliant collection of characters and suspects, you meet along the way, and the victim of the crime, Uncle Willie’ is the most entertaining of them all.
The story takes place in the most iconic of whodunnit settings, a country mansion at Christmas. Sir Willoughby Keene-Cotton - Uncle Willie, who has lead a colourful life gathers with his family for the festivities in what turns out to be his will be his last Christmas. There is an abundance of suspects and motives and a plethora of mince pies to wade through to find the solution and of course there is the obligatory detective to untangle the plot and sort out those mince pies from the chocolates. It’s not such a shock that Uncle Willie ends up the corpse, even before we get to that point the family member’s main topic of conversation seems to be how to kill Uncle Willie!
‘As the plot thickens the storyline becomes increasingly eccentric which results in Smythe, the Chief Constable observing that it is “almost a relief to realise there’s still a war on after listening to all that stuff”.
Murder After Christmas was written by a little known writer, Rupert Latimer, and has been out of print for three-quarters of a century, it was first published in 1944. I am pleased this this rather unorthodox Christmas whodunnit was unearthed and reprinted as it was a pleasure reading it. There is also a nice prologue that’s worth a read too.
When Sir Willoughby Keene-Cotton is found dead in the snow, dressed as Father Christmas, on boxing day at his step-daughters house, suspicions are raised that it may be foul play. He was immensely rich, and there are several people who could potentially benefit from his will, but who will depends on whether he died before or after Christmas. What follows is a twisty turny, madcap mystery that is highly entertaining, as long as you can suspend disbelief.
*Many thanks to Netgalley and the publishers for a review copy in exchange for an honest opinion.*
My head is whirling from this book and not in a good way! The plot is not bad but the writing style is extremely ‘camp’, haphazard and extremely annoying. I’m not sure if this is deliberate on the part of the author but it left me with a headache - all the repetitive dialogue and the unnecessary details. I liked Superintendent Culley but even he got my nerves by the end…they all did! And all this talk of ‘an altruistic’ murder is such a load of BS.
Unlikeable characters & an unnecessarily complicated plot & narrative, made this less enjoyable than it could have been. The humour wasn’t bad though - a tiny redeeming feature. Avoidable!
Another Christmas read in the run up to Halloween! 😀
I love a classic British murder mystery novel, and this one ticks 2 of those 3 boxes. It's a murder mystery, and it's British - it is not a classic, I'm afraid. It's not bad either. It just became tedious at the halfway point, and I began to care less and less who the killer was - not a good sign for a murder mystery. The unveiling at the end was good, but it rambled too much for my liking. The characters were interesting enough. The police constable (whose name I can not remember now - not a good sign) was the most curious of the lot. It's a fun enough read, but the plot is stretched very thin in places!
Would I recommend this novel? It's not essential reading, no, but it's worthy of a pass should you be tired of Christie or Sayers.
This was an enjoyable festive murder mystery from the British Library Crime Classics collection. These vary tremendously, but I am happy to say that Murder After Christmas was worth reading.
It was lively, tongue-in-cheek and threw in just about every Golden Age element you could list.
I'm only giving it 3 stars because it felt very long winded and because sometimes I felt a bit baffled by the characters (I kept wondering if they were MEANT to be acting so strangely?)
Still, there was some excellent misdirection. I thought I had it all wrapped up and I was nowhere close!
Recommended if you're looking for a light, Christmassy mystery read. Warning though - it will make you want to eat mince pies!
Dnf, just not interested after getting about a third in. Too many characters, couldn’t keep track of who was who, married to who, related to who…and not clicking with the writing style.
Very clever and humorous Golden Age mystery that falls into the category of the rich elderly gentleman with many relatives waiting to inherit. It's the type of book in which you get to the end and want to go back and reread how you missed the clues and just how it was all pulled off so successfully.
Whether before or after Christmas, it has all the elements of a good Christmas mystery: Father Christmas, mince pies, chocolates, snow, and warm fires; as well as, lots of suspects with multiple motives, nefarious means, and varieties of opportunity. The ending is delicious and quite a surprise.
With the elimination of some minor characters, this would make a wonderful BBC production or a movie in the vein of Knives Out.
I love how the British Library Crime Classics has been resurrecting forgotten novels from the Golden Age. I have found some absolute gems and hope to find more (thanks to Poisoned Pen Press making them available on this side of the Pond ... and the New York Public Library having so many available digitally). This one? Well, I think there's a reason it was forgotten and perhaps it should have stayed that way. It actually made my head hurt and m pretty sure both stars given were for the introduction by Martin Edwards.
This was a fun but over-the-top romp with more twists and turns than I could keep track of. I sympathize with the detective and his superior who just did NOT want him to find yet another clue.
I enjoy this series from the British Library. Most are mysteries from the Golden Age of mysteries which was the era which included Agatha Christie. Like many Christmas mysteries, this is set in a "big house' in the country. There is inevitably a blizzard with a houseful of trapped guests. There is a death. Was it murder? And who is/are the rightful heirs of the deceased's fortune?
The least serious murder mystery I've ever read. As if Jeeves, Wooster, and Aunt Agatha were in charge of the investigation. "Are they all on the borderline?" asks the Inspector, who's no less certifiable. A good portion of the humor comes from the liberal use of adverbs as the characters report, retort, and expostulate nostalgically, grumblingly, broadmindedly, retentively, commiseratingly, and on and on. "Poor old turnip," was my favorite phrase as I hungered for the plentiful mince pies which apparently is a British thing at Christmas, and explains my mother always cooking such at the holidays and my friends not knowing what they were. I also didn't grasp the British affection for Yuletide mysteries, but I've read a few now and this was quite Christmassy.
Quite good fun, memorable characters, most unlikeable but not hate-able. An interesting resolution, to be sure! Must read this again some Christmastide to piece it all together.
3.5 stars. This could be an absolutely excellent book, but I think it was in dire need of some editing!
On the plus side it’s clever and well written, with a humorous and light style that makes it an enjoyable read. On the downside, it’s pretty repetitive at times, with some winding an unnecessary elements that take away from what could be a snappy ingenious whodunnit.
There’s also some truly unlikeable and over-privileged characters that you get the sense the author has a lot of sympathy for!
3.5 stars. You'll enjoy this most if you accept from the beginning that it's meant to be absurd, rather than a serious or realistic murder mystery. Obviously (and especially once the solution is revealed) the behavior of several characters is entirely ridiculous from a realistic point of view, but when viewed more as a mischievous holiday-themed spoof of mystery conventions it's quite funny and entertaining.
3.5 stars Frank and Rhoda Redpath invite Rhoda's stepfather to spend Christmas with them, their son John, his girlfriend and Frank's aunt Paulina, with a few ulterior motives. Unfortunately, after he has been with them a few days they are thinking that might not have been a good decision. Uncle Willie is rather contrary, forgetful and secretive, although being a Sir has opened doors in the local community for the Redpaths. Uncle Willie is on his third marriage, the first to an actress, the second to Rhoda's mother and now he is married to a widow (although how often they have actually met is open to debate certainly they don't live together) who will inherit everything on his death and who has children in reduced circumstances. After a Christmas Tree party at which he had played one of the two Santa's Uncle Willie is found dead by the snowman and the cause is found to be laudanum. Which begs the question was it an accidental overdose as his cough medicine contained laudanum, or was it murder and if it was what was it in? There is a further complication when it is discovereed that Uncle Willie's wife died on Christmas Day so now his will is invalid as he is considered to have died intestate so who will get his money? This is not a straightforward case due to Frank's quixotic nature, John's inquisitive nature, and the fact that people try to hide things and lie more than usual. The whole Redpath family seems to be eccentric and quirky and certainly some of their behaviours are hard to explain, such as inviting the inspector investigating the case to come and stay with them. There is also the fact that the chief constable knew both the victim and the suspects and keeps changing his mind about who is guilty. I did enjoy this and I really liked Frank and especially Rhoda Redpath, as well as Pauline Redpath. But I found the last part of the story dragged quite considerably so much so that I actually felt like giving up on it except that I wanted to see if my guess about the villian was correct, so instead reverted to talking to the book saying "oh for god's sake get on with it"!!
Ealing Studios, famous for British comedies in the 1950s, missed a bet by not adapting this 1944 novel to film. Murder After Christmas features many British eccentrics, most of them part of an extended family, all seemingly encumbered with extraordinarily bad judgement complicated by an excess of discretion cloaked in civility.
"'With so many detective stories written, murdering people has become a kind of intellectual sport nowadays,' said Frank."
Sir Willoughby Keene-Cotton, somewhere in his nineties and quite rich, goes to the Redpath's home for Christmas since Mrs. Redpath is his step-daughter, and ends up dead via an overdoes of laudanum. How this was accomplished is a part of the mystery and involves pre-Christmas mince pies and post-Christmas mince pies, both eaten and uneaten, war-time rationing -- waste was a great taboo -- as well as boxes of chocolates and cough syrup, in addition to family, distant family, near-family, friends and assorted others jockeying to get near the great man, none of whom seem shy admitting they had considered how best to murder the old boy as an intellectual sport.
Really an amusing and sometimes quite funny mystery, you may not ever think of the phrase "cast your bread upon the water" in quite the same way after reading it.
Murder After Christmas does not disappoint on the Christmassy front, with a plot centred around poisoned mince pies, a "Christmas Tree" (the name for a party given by the main characters on Boxing Day), and an unassuming role played by the snowman in the garden.
The murder victim is Uncle Willie, an extremely rich man who is staying with his stepdaughter Rhoda, and her husband Frank Redpath for Christmas. Willie is spending the season trying to write his memoirs, if only he could remember the names of all of his wives and in what order he married them!
Who murdered Uncle Willie and why gets quite complicated and I'm not fully sure I understand, but it is a a very jolly book, it kept me guessing until the very end and I enjoyed reading it.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Murder after Christmas by Rupert Latimer - this is the British Library Crime Classics offer for Christmas 2021, but sadly I gave up on it just over halfway through, yes another DNF. I did try, especially as the author died tragically young, but found it pretty much unreadable. I did hope that perhaps once Great Uncle Willie got murdered it would pick up, but sadly the police were just as annoying and two dimensional as the old man's family and their friends and relatives who all showed up over Christmas. Normally the Christmas books are enjoyable, if inevitably somewhat dated, but this was terrible. Sorry! 2/10
Comic British mysteries were not rare in the 1940s. The ones that I am most familiar with are the books of Michael Innes and Edmund Crispin, with their donnish humor. At about the same time that Innes and Crispin were writing those books, Nancy Mitford was writing the Love in a Cold Climate books, British comic novels about life and romance in the upper classes. Murder After Christmas, originally published in 1944, seems to me to take a comic mystery plot and make it the subject of a rather Nancy Mitfordian book about an apparent murder among the wealthy and well-born.
Frank and Rhoda Redpath invite Uncle Willie to stay with them for Christmas and perhaps even longer. The hotel in which Willie has been living is being commandeered by the government, and Willie has no place to go for Christmas. He wouldn't exactly have been on the street, though; "Uncle Willie" is the absurdly rich Sir Willoughby Keene-Cotton, with homes in London, San Remo, and Scotland. (His Spanish castle was blown up in "a revolution.") He does have a wife, whom he seldom sees, but she is elderly and ill. So the Redpaths thoughtfully invite him, with some of that thought being given to casting bread upon the waters. Frank muses, "Rather a joke if, in the excitement of his happy Christmas, he revoked his will and left everything to us!"
Willie does come, as do many others, inspired to visit by good-fellowship - and the chance to spend time basking in the glow from an elderly and exceedingly rich baronet. Frank's Aunt Paulina is already staying with them and the Redpaths' adult son and his female companion, a young would-be actress, are there as well. Willie seems to be in good health for a man of his advanced age, with a hearty appetite. He does appear to have spells of confusion; for example, he can not seem to remember the order of the three wives he has had. Neighbors whom they barely know and distant relatives arrive, many of them hoping to profit from their visit. The Redpaths are not the only ones considering Sir Willoughby's death and what it might bring them - but not, one hopes, until after Christmas.
There is a war on (although Frank says that he keeps "forget[ting] about this beastly war") and it would be sinful to waste food, but Willie is, after all, well able to afford whatever he wants. They have three turkeys and they are awash in mince pies and chocolates (although the boxes of chocolates keep vanishing).
The center of the Redpaths' Christmas plans is a large party. Willie at first says that he does not want to join in, but he changes his mind and even orders a Father Christmas outfit. Father Christmas is the hit of the party, handing out gifts to all. But the next day, Willie is missing. He is found, Father Christmas suit and all, lying beside a snowman near the house. He is dead. Perhaps his heart gave out. But there is a strange set of footprints in the snow near the body that can not be easily explained
An autopsy shows that he has died from an overdose of laudanum. He has had a cough and may have taken too much medicine - or he may have been murdered. All the people who attended the party and others who had mailed food to the Redpaths' house are suspects.
The people in charge of the investigation are the Chief Constable, Major Smythe, an old friend of Willie's who had been at the party, and Superintendent Culley. Everyone Culley speaks to has something to hide, and the solution is rather more than merely complicated. "Secrets are not allowed, you know - except at Christmas," says one of the (many) suspects, but this does take place at Christmas, and secrets abound.
The extraordinarily complicated solution is clever but just too complicated. That is one of the problems that I have with the story. Another is that people who, I believe, are meant to be admirable say and do most un-admirable things.
Perhaps my biggest problem is that the author works too hard to make everything funny. Sentence by sentence, this is marvelous, but like a surfeit of chocolates or mince pies, it can be cloying.
For example:
Paulina did her best to make the time pass by catechising [a man named Puffy Freer] on his family and connections. Was he, by any chance, related to some Freers she once met in Rome? Or there were some Freers with whom Paulina Redpath was very nearly shipwrecked in the Caspian Sea? No? No, Puffy disclaimed all geographical and genealogical associations with the name of Freer until Aunt Paulina, having sailed with serene obstinacy round the world, came to port in Durban, where it seemed he was actually born; which implied that he was an off-shoot of Freer's Bathing Beach, if not actually born in a bathing machine.
And another, which I admittedly do think is funny:
All the grown-ups received the trifles Father Christmas bestowed upon them in a conspiracy of solemn gratitude, at first fearful of shattering the illusion of reality, but presently warming up, overcoming their diffidence, shaking hands with him, applauding and congratulating him, but always calling him Father Christmas carefully, some hoping his reindeer wouldn't be cold waiting: had they got something nice in their nose-bags? and had Father Christmas remembered to immobilise them? and didn't he find the modern system of entering by the front door a little cold and formal after so many centuries of coming down chimneys?
I did enjoy much of the book despite my objections.
This is the only volume from the British Library Crime Classics series that I have read. This 2021 paperback edition is quite handsome, with a very nice cover, credited to Mary Evans Picture Library. Their is a fine, brief but informative introduction by Martin Edwards. Edwards explains that the author, whose real name was Algernon Vernon Mills, died in 1953, still in his forties.