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5.0étoiles sur 5
Clues here, clues there, clues everywhere --, Mars 15 2001
Hmm. Now, let me see. Was it the Earl of Burford in his collection-room with a candlestick? Or maybe it was Mrs. Peabody in her boudoir with one of her husband's weapons. Naw. More likely it was -- just who was it, anyway? I know! It was the Baroness out in the carpark with her trusty spanner. For certain, there are laughs on every page--nearly every line, in fact, of this delectable, delicious parody of the classic 1930s-type English Country House Mysteries. Mr. Anderson has done his homework wonderfully well; the settings are absolutely spot-on, the characters a delightful mélange, and the plotting is, quite simply, to die for! And of course, someone does just that. The twelfth Earl of Burford, current resident of Alderley, a medium-sized stately home, is Britain's foremost collector of firearms--all sizes, all kinds. For several years, he has been corresponding with Hiram Peabody, who is America's foremost collector. When the Peabodys decide to stop off in Britain for a look around, well, naturally, they would go visit the Earl and his Countess. The earl has a daughter, Lady Geraldine and a younger brother, Richard Saunders, who has been making his way steadily upward in the diplomatic service. Into this family enclave comes Jane Clifton, a schoolfriend of Gerry's, Giles Deveraux, a retired Navy man, now writer who has been commissioned to do a book on stately homes, and a brace of diplomats from an unnamed Duchy on the continent. Richard and a gentleman from the HO are to negotiate a support treaty with the representatives of the small country. Of course, Peabody has a secretary, and the care of Alderby is in the capable hands of Merryweather, the butler. And then, when her car has a sudden accident, the Baroness de la Roche is added to the mix, creating merry mayhem for all concerned. Well, maybe not merry for everyone. But for you, as reader, most assuredly. You can't go wrong with this slightly loopy and very loving modern-day look back at a treasured convention of the past. Clues, indeed. They're all over the place, just waiting for the 'not-at-all-sanguine' little gray (or whatever colored) cells of Inspector Wilkins to winnow them down to those precious few that will really solve the marvelous puzzle, even to the bloodstained egg cosy of the title! Simply amazing, and totally awesome!
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