1986 mystery; first in Brett's Mrs Pargeter series (amateur
sleuthing). Widowed Mrs Pargeter moves into a seaside hotel in
Littlehampton, and causes a stir by being herself; but when one of the
guests falls down the stairs in the middle of the night and breaks her
neck, she may be the only person who doesn't assume it was an
accident. Or at least one of two people.
The setting is made for Brett's usual brand of "ha ha, daft
crumbly old people are silly" humour, and he indulges himself; but
there's some degree of humanity here as well, with tragedy leavening
the comedy and vice versa. It's frankly subtler than I'd expected of
him having read some of his other series.
It rapidly becomes clear that Mr Pargeter had an unusual profession,
and some of the fun is in not knowing just what it was, though one can
make guesses; but Mrs Pargeter has some skills, and some friends, that
one wouldn't expect of a harmless old biddy. Which turns out to be
handy, because one of the other people in the hotel (not a Home, no
no, just an hotel for elderly people who don't want to live on their
own) is a murderer.
The actual plot isn't wildly complex, and Mrs Pargeter has little
trouble disentangling the red herrings and eliminating most of the
suspects, as indeed the reader shouldn't. Characterisation is fairly
simplistic. This is clearly meant to have elements of a cosy mystery
in the Miss Marple style, but doesn't quite catch the tone; on the
other hand it's sufficiently distinct that one can enjoy it as a story
in its own right.
It's nothing remarkable, but quite pleasant. I'm told that the series
hits its stride with the second book.
Followed by Mrs, Presumed Dead.
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