Roderick Alleyn Series

A British tour group in Italy finds murder is an obstacle to their sightseeing: “Fastidious writing [and] a fine appreciation of place.” —Sunday Times A group of well-to-do tourists is visiting Italy’s magnificent churches, but they’ve found themselves stumbling into an unholy web of blackmail and drug-smuggling—and, in the depths of a Roman basilica, murder. Fortunately Inspector Roderick Alleyn is among the group as part of an undercover assignment, and prepared to extract a confession . . . “A lively thriller whodunnit.” —The Observer “The nonpareil among criminal investigators.” —The New York Times

A spring may have healing properties—but the controversy over it may have harmful results—in a witty mystery by a Mystery Writers of America Grand Master. The elderly Emily Pride is perfectly pleased to have inherited an island, even if her starchy pragmatism is ever-so-faintly appalled by the island’s “Pixie Falls” spring and its reported miraculous healing properties. Really, the locals’ attempts to capitalize on the “miracles” are entirely too tacky—Ye Olde Gift Shoppe, the neon signs . . .not on Miss Emily’s watch, thank you. Of course, the locals are not exactly thrilled to give up their trade. Pixie Falls may be merely be known for healing warts, it’s true, but you take your shillings where you can find them. Could their frustration have bubbled up into murderous rage? Inspector Alleyn will have to sort it out. And this time, it’s personal. “It’s time to start comparing Christie to Marsh instead of the other way around.” —New York Magazine “A peerless practitioner of the slightly surreal, English-village comedy-mystery.” —Kirkus Reviews “The nonpareil among criminal investigators.” —The New York Times

The acclaimed author brings us crime at a country-house Christmas party in “one of her best and most baffling mysteries” (Daily Express). It’s the Christmas season in 1972, and Agatha Troy is at a house party, enjoying the local holiday pageant and also painting the host’s portrait. The painting’s coming along fine, but the pageant goes a little pear-shaped when one of the players disappears. Could one of the eccentric guests have been involved? Or could the finger of blame come to rest on one of the manor-house servants, each of whom happens to be a recent prison parolee? Inspector Alleyn is on hand to wrap up the case . . . “So dashed entertaining.” —Kirkus Reviews “Any Ngaio Marsh story is certain to be Grade A.” —The New York Times

A fancy hotel plays host to homicide in a “jubilant” novel by “a peerless practitioner of the slightly surreal, English-village comedy-mystery” (Kirkus Reviews, starred review). Sybil Foster lives the sort of little English village that is home mostly to the very rich and the servants who make their lives delightful. But Sybil Foster’s life is not delightful, even if she does have an extremely talented gardener. Exhausted from her various family stresses—a daughter, for instance, who wants to marry a man without a title!—Sybil takes herself off to a local hotel that specializes in soothing shattered nerves. When she’s killed, Inspector Alleyn has a real puzzler on his hands: Yes, she was silly, snobbish, and irritating. But if that were enough motive for murder, half of England would be six feet under . . . “In her ironic and witty hands the mystery novel can be civilized literature.” —The New York Times “The brilliant Ngaio Marsh ranks with Agatha Christie and Dorothy Sayers.” —Times Literary Supplement

It’s foul play on a freighter: “Enthralling . . .keeps the reader on tenterhooks until the dramatic finale.” —Kirkus Reviews (starred review) The good ship Cape Farewell is steaming out to sea, with a passenger-list and crew fairly littered with the shifty, the twitchy, the peculiar, and the up-to-no-good. Arguably the up-to-no-goodest is a strangler with a romantic streak: He likes to leave his ladies with a flower and a charming little song. The latest of the ladies is currently lying on a fogbound London dock, mute witness to the fact that Inspector Alleyn—long on the strangler’s trail—has so far failed to catch his man. A wintertime sailing on a low-rent cargo ship is not Alleyn’s idea of a terrific time, but he nevertheless boards the Cape at Portsmouth, determined that no one else is going to get strangled on his watch . . .. “This is the Classic Puzzle at its purest . . .embellished by literate dialogue and attractive characterization.” —The New York Times

This tale of an actress’s dramatic demise, and a police detective trying to sniff out a killer, is “one of Ngaio Marsh's best yarns” (Kirkus Reviews). Mary Bellamy is the sweetheart of the London stage—everyone simply adores darling Mary. So her fans and friends are heartbroken when somehow Mary manages to spritz herself not with her favorite perfume but with a deadly insecticide meant to be sprayed on the azaleas. What Inspector Alleyn smells is something fishy, especially since everything he learns about lovely, fragile Mary suggests that in fact she was a rather vicious battleax. And with a bit more investigation, he quickly starts smelling something different: a rat . . . “It’s time to start comparing Christie to Marsh instead of the other way around.” —New York Magazine “[Her] writing style and vivid characters and settings made her a mystery novelist of world renown.” —The New York Times

Folkways turn fatal in a very old-fashioned English village, in this witty mystery filled with “ingenious” detective work (Kirkus Reviews, starred review). The village of South Mardian likes the old ways. The very old ways. This may be 1957, but South Mardian still features a blacksmith, a village idiot, and an elaborate fertility ritual performed at the winter solstice. There’s squabbling, of course, and worse—like when one of the ritual’s main players is found beheaded, everything north of his neck having been neatly lopped off by a ritual sword. Inspector Alleyn does have to contain a certain incredulous amusement at the village’s fetishistic embrace of the eighteenth century—he does not, for example, have a real passion for morris dancing—but he’ll try to keep a straight face long enough to find the killer and let South Mardian return to the warm embrace of pre-Industrial Britain. “A peerless practitioner of the slightly surreal, English-village comedy-mystery.” —Kirkus Reviews “The doyenne of traditional mystery writers.” —The New York Times

From the Mystery Writers of America Grand Master, this tale of death at the Dolphin Theatre has “wit, charm, and oodles of atmosphere” (Kirkus Reviews). Among theater folk, “the Scottish play” is considered unlucky, so much so that tradition requires anyone who utters its proper name backstage to leave the building, spin around, spit, curse, and then request permission to re-enter. As director Peregrine Jay directs a production of Shakespeare’s great work at the Dolphin Theater, misfortune does indeed abound, including some ugly practical jokes—and a grisly death for the leading man. It’s up to Roderick Alleyn to find out who has blood on their hands . . . “No playwright could devise a better curtain.” —Los Angeles Times “As always she writes most elegantly.” —Daily Telegraph “The doyenne of traditional mystery writers.” —The New York Times

A diva is dead in New Zealand . . . “A neat little puzzle, sparkling writing . . .a book that should make all readers happy.” —The New York Times The soprano Isabella Sommita was widely loathed, so much so that the problem with solving her murder is less a lack of plausible suspects than an embarrassment of options. On a lavish island estate, cut off from the mainland by a sudden storm, Roderick Alleyn is among the guests, and fortunately can take charge in the coppers’ absence, in this delightful detective novel by the Mystery Writers of America Grand Master. “Her socialite detective, Roderick Alleyn, has a deft touch, and combines savoir faire with keen analytical abilities, quite in the Scotland Yard tradition.” —Kirkus Reviews

A river cruise may be sunk by a ruthless criminal in this novel by “the doyenne of traditional mystery writers” (The New York Times). Inspector Alleyn’s wife, the artist Agatha Troy, has a special fondness for Constables—the paintings, that is, not the policemen. So she jumps at the chance to take a river cruise through “Constable Country” in the east of England, in honor of the nineteenth-century master of landscapes. Her enthusiasm dims a little, though, when it becomes clear that the ticket became available at the last minute only because a previous passenger was murdered in his cabin . . . “It’s time to start comparing Christie to Marsh instead of the other way around.” —New York Magazine

“Miss Marsh works her characteristic storyteller's magic with the elements of theater and suspense.” —Kirkus Reviews The impresario Peregrine Jay has fulfilled a long-cherished dream: Thanks to a very generous gift, he now owns the Dolphin Theatre, and has restored it to its former glory. To celebrate the reopening, a no-expenses-spared production of The Glove, a new play about the discovery of a true Shakespearean accessory, is performed. London’s chattering classes are abuzz with gossip about the theatre, rumors about Peregrine, critiques of the play. But when murder takes center stage, everyone gets very quiet, and only Inspector Alleyn can persuade them to start chattering again—this time, with a purpose. “Rich backstage atmosphere.” —The New York Times Also published under the title Death at the Dolphin

A deadly dull man is now just plain dead in this novel by “a peerless practitioner of the slightly surreal, English-village comedy-mystery.” —Kirkus Reviews One has to admit that the timing was peculiar. No one could doubt that Mr. Percival Pyke Period was genuinely distraught to hear that his neighbor, Harry Cartell, had turned up dead in a ditch. But how is it that Mr. Percival Pyke came to write the letter of condolence before the body was found? And how is it that Mr. Cartell came to inspire such violence? Yes he was boring, yes he was stuffy, but who would kill a man for the crime of being a bad conversationalist? If tediousness has become grounds for murder, Inspector Alleyn shudders to think of the body count to come . . . “The brilliant Ngaio Marsh ranks with Agatha Christie and Dorothy Sayers.” —Times Literary Supplement “Any Ngaio Marsh story is certain to be Grade A.” —The New York Times

This tale of murder at a snowed-in country house is a “constant puzzle to the end . . . alive with wit” (The New York Times). The unspeakably wealthy (and generally unspeakable) Jonathan Royal has decided to throw a party and, just for fun, has studded the guest list with people who loathe one another. When a blizzard imprisons them all in Royal’s country house, murder ensues, and there are nearly as many suspects as there are potential victims. Eventually, Inspector Alleyn makes his way through the snow to put things right, in this classic whodunit by the Mystery Writers of America Grand Master. “A smooth yarn.” —Kirkus Reviews (starred review)

A local busybody is silenced for good in this tale by “a peerless practitioner of the slightly surreal, English-village comedy-mystery” (Kirkus Reviews). In their Dorset village, neither Miss Campanula nor her friend Miss Prentice are known as lovable little old ladies. They’re waspish, gossiping snobby little old ladies, passionate only about their amateur theatrical productions, their narrowly defined opinions about how everyone else should behave . . ..and, perhaps, about the local vicar. But could one of them have been sufficiently unpleasant to provoke a murderer? For Miss Campanula has perished on her piano bench—and it’s unclear whether Miss Prentice may have been the actual intended victim . . . “A goodie.” —Kirkus Reviews “It’s time to start comparing Christie to Marsh instead of the other way around.” —New York Magazine “In her ironic and witty hands the mystery novel can be civilized literature.” —The New York Times

A model is murdered in this “first-rate” detective story by the Mystery Writers of America Grand Master (Kirkus Reviews). On a ship traveling back to England, Miss Agatha Troy finds Inspector Roderick Alleyn tedious and dull; he thinks she’s a bohemian cliché. They may be destined for romance, but there’s a murder in the way: No sooner has Alleyn settled in to his mother’s house, eager for a relaxing end to his vacation, than he gets a call that a model has been stabbed at the artists’ community down the road. And the talented Miss Troy is one of the community’s most prominent and outspoken members . . . “The doyenne of traditional mystery writers.” —The New York Times

“The theatre plays backdrop to romance and murder . . . Good reading.” —Kirkus Reviews (starred review) Newly arrived from New Zealand and in need of funds, Martyn Tarne takes a job as a dresser to the Vulcan Theater’s leading lady. Along with a paycheck, this also provides her with a ringside seat to the backstage circus—and the eventual murder that occurs on opening night. Inspector Alleyn is soon called to solve the case and put a stop to all the drama . . . “To my thinking, no other writer evokes ‘the incense of the playhouse’ or describes the technical details of stage production with the degree of authenticity that Dame Ngaio achieved in novels like Enter a Murderer, Killer Dolphin, Night at the Vulcan and Light Thickens.” —Marilyn Stasio, The New York Times “The brilliant Ngaio Marsh ranks with Agatha Christie and Dorothy Sayers.” —Times Literary Supplement Also published under the title Opening Night

At an English pub, a dart becomes a deadly weapon: “Any Ngaio Marsh story is certain to be Grade A.” —The New York Times A game of darts does involve some danger, but it’s rarely lethal. There are exceptions, however, like the famous barrister who was enjoying a pint at the Plume of Feathers pub, and is now residing at the morgue. But Inspector Roderick Alleyn has a growing hunch that this peculiar “accident” can be traced to an old legal case . . . “A peerless practitioner of the slightly surreal, English-village comedy-mystery.” —Kirkus Reviews

A policeman in the audience sees an all-too-real death scene on a London stage: “Good enough to satisfy the most critical reader of detective stories.” —The New York Times Inspector Roderick Alleyn has been invited to an opening night, a new play in which two characters quarrel and then struggle for a gun, with predictably sad results. Even sadder, the gun was not, in fact, loaded with blanks. And when it comes to interviewing witnesses, actors can be a deceptive lot . . . “It’s time to start comparing Christie to Marsh instead of the other way around.” —New York Magazine

The inspector digs into a cold case on a New Zealand sheep farm in this “well-sustained crime story” from the Mystery Writers of America Grand Master (Kirkus Reviews). Flossie Rubrick, a highly opinionated and influential member of the New Zealand Parliament, was last seen heading off to one of the storage sheds on her sheep farm. Three weeks later, she turned up dead and packed in a bale of her own wool. What happened on the night of her long-ago disappearance? In the country on counterespionage duty, Inspector Roderick Alleyn is happy to lend a hand. “The doyenne of traditional mystery writers.” —The New York Times

A high-society homicide is the talk of the London season . . .“Marsh’s writing is a pleasure.” —The Seattle Times It’s debutante season in London, and that means giggles and tea-dances, white dresses and inappropriate romances . . ..and much too much champagne. And, apparently, a blackmailer, which is where Inspector Roderick Alleyn comes in. The social whirl is decidedly not Alleyn’s environment, so he brings in an assistant in the form of Lord “Bunchy” Gospell, everybody’s favorite uncle. Bunchy is more than lovable; he’s also got some serious sleuthing skills. But before he can unmask the blackmailer, a murder is announced. And everyone suddenly stops giggling . . . “It’s time to start comparing Christie to Marsh instead of the other way around.” —New York Magazine “[Her] writing style and vivid characters and settings made her a mystery novelist of world renown.” —The New York Times

A British police detective looks into sinister doings in the South of France in a crime thriller with “more than a little excitement” (Kirkus Reviews). Inspector Roderick Alleyn has decamped for the South of France on a family vacation—though for him, the vacation will involve some official poking around. Unfortunately, the object of his poking—the cultish denizens of a sinister and luxurious chateau—are not fond of being poked, and they have a particularly unpleasant way of getting their point across . . . “Charming, cultivated, witty—and none the less terrifying . . .a pure thriller . . .you’re not apt to find a better evening’s entertainment.” —The New York Times

Murder strikes a sour note at a jazz concert in this classic detective novel from the Mystery Writers of America Grand Master. Lord Pastern and Bagott is given to passionate, peculiar enthusiasms, the latest of which is drumming in a jazz band. His wife is not amused, and she is even less so when her daughter falls for Carlos Rivera, the band’s sleazy accordion player. Nobody likes Rivera very much, so there’s a wealth of suspects when he is shot in the middle of a performance. Happily, Inspector Alleyn is in the audience, ready to make a killer face the music. Also published under the title A Wreath for Rivera “A succulent novel.” —The New York Times

A Shakespearean actor shuffles off his mortal coil in this “skillfully wrought” country-house mystery (The New York Times). Sir Henry Ancred, a celebrated Shakespearean actor, has arranged to have his portrait painted by Agatha Troy, wife of Inspector Roderick Alleyn. But when Ancred is killed at his own birthday party, leaving behind a family full of suspects, Troy’s work ends and Inspector Alleyn’s begins . . . “It’s time to start comparing Christie to Marsh instead of the other way around.” —New York Magazine “A peerless practitioner of the slightly surreal, English-village comedy-mystery.” —Kirkus Reviews

Detection becomes a father-and-son activity in the Channel Islands: “A mystery novelist of world renown.” —The New York Times Ricky Alleyn, son of the renowned police detective Roderick Alleyn, has taken himself to a secluded island to write a novel. Or think about writing a novel. Or look for distractions so he can avoid writing a novel. The distractions abound, mostly in the form of colorful local characters, so all is beer and skittles until Ricky stumbles across a murder and then gets himself kidnapped. Naturally his father rushes to the island to save the day . . . “It’s time to start comparing Christie to Marsh instead of the other way around.” —New York Magazine

For one unfortunate British politician, murder is the worst medicine: “An ingenious, logical, and sparkling tale.” —The New York Times For Member of Parliament Sir Derek O’Callaghan, a simple visit to the hospital proves fatal. But as Inspector Alleyn will discover, any number of people had reason to help the gentleman to his just reward, including a sour surgeon, a besotted nurse, a resentful wife, and a cabinet full of political rivals, in this classic of detection by the Mystery Writers of America Grand Master. “A peerless practitioner of the slightly surreal, English-village comedy-mystery.” —Kirkus Reviews “It’s time to start comparing Christie to Marsh instead of the other way around.” —New York Magazine

An aristocrat dies under fishy circumstances in this tale by “the finest writer in the English language of the pure, classical puzzle whodunnit” (The Sun). In an almost unspeakably charming little English village, one of the local aristocrats turns up dead next to the local trout-stream with, in fact, a trout at his side. Everyone is dreadfully upset, of course, but really, just a tad irritated as well—murder is so awfully messy. Inspector Alleyn doesn’t quite fit in among the inbred gentry, but they’ll allow him to do his work and clear the matter up—though they do wish he didn’t feel compelled to ask quite so many questions . . . “The brilliant Ngaio Marsh ranks with Agatha Christie and Dorothy Sayers.” —Times Literary Supplement “A peerless practitioner of the slightly surreal, English-village comedy-mystery.” —Kirkus Reviews “Any Ngaio Marsh story is certain to be Grade A.” —The New York Times

This novel of murder and espionage in World War II New Zealand is “an exquisite reminder of the brilliance of Marsh’s London detective” (The Guardian). Inspector Roderick Alleyn just wants to write a letter to his wife, but World War II, for one, keeps intruding. It’s war-work, after all, that has brought Alleyn to this seedy hospital in New Zealand’s hinterlands, and it’s the war that has left the hospital swimming in convalescing soldiers—noisy, often drunk, and always over-interested in the nurses. Nor is the weather helping. A storm has killed the electrical power, leaving Alleyn, the soldiers, and the medical staff stranded in the dark . . ..with a murderer. It’s a good thing for everyone that there’s a Scotland Yard detective on hand . . . An unfinished novel by the Mystery Writers of America Grand Master seamlessly completed by Crime Writers of America Dagger Award winner Stella Duffy, Money in the Morgue is “an intriguing mystery” with a “satisfyingly varied and vivid cast” (The Guardian). “A taut atmospheric whodunit . . .Duffy’s facility at injecting wit into fair-play detecting will make Marsh fans hope she’ll continue the series.” —Publishers Weekly (starred review)

A visiting dignitary in London asks for security—and gets extra help from a clever feline—in a novel starring “the nonpareil among criminal investigators” (The New York Times). Superintendent Alleyn’s old school chum, nicknamed the “Boomer,” has become the president of the newly emerged African nation of Ng’ombwana, newly emerged in the wake of colonialism. Old school ties being what they are, his friend—making an official visit to London—insists that Alleyn handle his security, rather than Her Majesty’s Special Branch. The Special Branch is not best pleased about this, as the Boomer is known to have some very deadly enemies, and the threats only increase when the Ng’ombwanan ambassador is killed. Happily for the Boomer, not only is Alleyn up to the task, but he is assisted by a rescued cat who proves extremely adept at finding clues . . . “The brilliant Ngaio Marsh ranks with Agatha Christie and Dorothy Sayers.” —Times Literary Supplement

Crime comes to a country house: “Any Ngaio Marsh story is certain to be Grade A, and this one is no exception.” —The New York Times This classic from the Golden Age of British mystery opens during a country-house party between the two world wars—servants bustling, gin flowing, the gentlemen in dinner jackets, the ladies all slink and smolder. Even more delicious: The host, Sir Hubert Handesley, has invented a new and especially exciting version of that beloved parlor entertainment, The Murder Game . . . “It’s time to start comparing Christie to Marsh instead of the other way around.” —New York Magazine “A peerless practitioner of the slightly surreal, English-village comedy-mystery.” —Kirkus Reviews

Three compelling tales of crime featuring the sharp-witted British police detective: “Any Ngaio Marsh story is certain to be Grade A.” —The New York Times   This volume includes three books in the classic detective series from the Mystery Writers of America Grand Master:   Death in Ecstasy: Tainted wine sends a member of a religious sect to meet her maker in a witty mystery marked by “quiet, intelligent deduction” (Kirkus Reviews).   Vintage Murder: Inspector Alleyn is enjoying his trip to New Zealand—until intrigue among his fellow travelers turns deadly . . .   Artists in Crime: An artists’ model is murdered—and among the suspects is a new woman in Inspector Alleyn’s life—in this “first-rate” detective story (Kirkus Reviews).