I’m not wildly enthused about Ngaio Marsh and Inspector Alleyn, at this point. It’s a smooth enough read, but the murder is a little haphazardly imagined: some elements of it suggest premeditation, while others suggest a crime of opportunity, but it has to be one or the other or it just doesn’t work. Too much depends on opportunity — the availability of the weapon, the position of the murdered man, the way the murder game turns out — and yet the rest of it smacks of pre-meditation: the bizarre way the murderer sneaks downstairs to do it, planning out what gloves to use, arranging an alibi… And then there’s the whole mess of the Russian secret society plot. Just… what?!
I can’t say I really cared much about any of the characters. Alleyn seems… weirdly mercurial, but not in a believable way, flipping personalities more often than you’d change clothes. I don’t understand him a bit. And Nigel Bathgate is just too bland: a Watson type of sidekick who makes silly mistakes and can’t figure anything out.
I know I didn’t like Peter Wimsey incredibly much the first time I read Whose Body?, so I’m giving this series more of a chance, but I’m not sure I’ll go beyond the three books I have. So many books, so little time.