Reckoning at the Riviera Royale (2022) by P.J. Fitzsimmons

P.J. Fitzsimmons' Reckoning at the Riviera Royale (2022) is the fifth, of currently nine, novels starring Anthony "Anty" Boisjoly, idler and sleuth, who accepts an invitation from his mother to join her on the Côte d'Azur – where he intends to have an awkward confrontation ("...did you arrange to pop off Papa?"). Anty travels to the Riviera Royale, "an ornate, Victorian-era hotel and casino," on the island of Cap Royale. When he arrives, Anty learns from his mother a violent death has taken and the killer is scheduled to be executed.

The victim is a clown, Malandrino the Magnificent, who was touring the Riviera by steam yacht as part of Deebee Digby's Cirque d'Azur. What remained of Malandrino, dressed in a mouse custom, was found in the cage of the circus elephant, Thumpy, where the animal had stepped on him ("repeatedly, by all evidence"). Deebee intends to recuperate the financial loss suffered from losing his center ringer by executing Thumpy in "the most spectacular fashion possible" and "sell tickets to the event." Previous novels shown Anty to be a friend to the animals, striking up a friendship with a cemetery crow in The Case of the Carnaby Castle Curse (2022), who's naturally appalled at the prospect ("has this elephant received due process under French law?"). Anty is determined to proof Thumpy's innocence and prevent Deedee from being publicly executing him.

Good on him, however, have to admit the following exchange between Anty and Deedee made me laugh when Deedee tells Anty electrocution is going to be the method of execution.

 

Anty: "you can't electrocute Thumpy."

Deedee: "I wouldn't have thought so either, but the manufacturer stands by his generator. I have a written guarantee."

 

Fortunately, true to his intrepid nature as a sleuth hound, Anty uncovers clues and evidence Malandrino was "murdered by human hand" with more than enough motives to go around – not only for torturing animals. Malandrino is one of those characters whom Scott, a regular in the comments, would probably nominate for the Hall of Shame of "murderable victims" who had it coming. Just one problem: everyone with a motive also have a collective alibi. Everyone was on a yacht out on sea enjoying a seafood barbecue and fireworks ("alibis all round"). They're the bunch of strange, eccentric characters you'd expect from a detective story with a circus background. You have Malandrino's replacement act, Norton Bean, who's better known as "Beano, The Astounding Bounding Bean." A bigger hack reviewer than yours truly, Max Minefield, who considers himself to be the circus critic. Bidelia Mimpley and Myrtle Biddicomb, known as the biddies, are two spinsters and circus fans ("camp followers") who never miss a show. Anty even meets two obscure relatives, Aunt Jacqueline Quillfeather and her daughter Chadwick. So even without a second body turning up and cheating going on in the hotel casino, Anty can't get around to having that sit down with his mother

This series is billed as a series of locked room mystery novels and Fitzsimmons comments in the afterword that Reckoning at the Riviera Royale has "one of the more original impossible murders that Anty has had to untangle." I agree that the solution to the murder of Malandrino is not only original, but ingenious, daring and absolutely hilarious – which perhaps not everyone's going to buy. Something straight out of a Looney Tunes cartoon, almost too preposterous to even take as a joke, had it not been for Fitzsimmons trying to make it sound plausible. Not an easy task when your tongue is planted firmly in your cheek. How the trick is made to look somewhat credible does have a touch of John Dickson Carr (phffrqarff bs nyy guvatf trareny). That being said, it's not an impossible crime or anywhere near something resembling a locked room mystery. It's a howdunit, an absolute bonkers howdunit, in which alibis have to be broken down instead of locked doors. So, plot-wise, more like Christopher Bush than Carr. Well, if Bush had been a longtime resident of a mental asylum.

That's just one murder. Anty still has to deal with a second murder, the shenanigans of his newfound relatives and find a minute to have that talk with his mother about his father's untimely passing. This is done with the customary light, humorous tone and witticism from previous novels, but Reckoning at the Riviera Royale has a plot that comes closer to matching the best in the series, The Case of the Ghost of Christmas Morning (2021). The Case of the Canterfell Codicil (2020), The Tale of the Tenpenny Tontine (2021) and the already mentioned The Case of the Carnaby Castle Curse all had the series trademark humor and genre spoofing, but their solutions lacked the imagination that made The Case of the Ghost of Christmas Morning such a promising introduction to the series. Not a criticism that can be leveled against Reckoning at the Riviera Royale. So, if you want a mystery with some color and imagination flashing out of its plot, Fitszimmons and Reckoning at the Riviera Royale have you covered!

I loved it enough to The Case of the Case of Kilcladdich (2023) up the pile, but first need to get around to a few other recently published locked room mysteries like J.L. Blackhurst's Smoke and Murders (2024) and Tom Mead's recently published The House at Devil's Neck (2025).

The Case of the Carnaby Castle Curse (2022) by P.J. Fitzsimmons

Last time, I looked at P.J. Fitzsimmons' The Case of the Canterfell Codicil (2020), first in the Anthony "Anty" Boisjoly series, which just like The Case of the Ghost of Christmas Morning (2021) and The Tale of the Tenpenny Tontine (2021) proved to be another entertaining send-up of the Golden Age detective story – recalling Leo Bruce, Edmund Crispin and P.G. Wodehouse. And better plotted than you would expect from a series labeled "locked room cosies." But the devil is always in the details. The execution of the plot, as a whole, left me in two minds. So decided to immediately move on to the fourth title in the series to see how much priority I should give to Reckoning at the Riviera Royale (2022), The Case of the Case of Kilcladdich (2023) and Foreboding Foretelling at Ficklehouse Felling (2023).

Like previously said, Fitzsimmons is not a writer to be caught in the act of being boring and The Case of the Carnaby Castle Curse (2022) is no exception. It reads like a send-up of Paul Halter's Le diable de Dartmoor (The Demon of Dartmoor, 1993) and L'homme qui aimait les nuages (The Man Who Loved Clouds, 1999).

The Case of the Carnaby Castle Curse takes place in 1929 and, similar to the first novel, starts with a telegram delivered to the Juniper Gentleman's Club. A telegram with an ominous warning, "THE CURSE IS ONCE AGAIN UPON THE CARNABY FAMILY-(STOP)-DO NOT RETURN TO HOY-(STOP)-ONLY DEATH AWAITS YOU," addressed to W. Carnaby of the Juniper Club. However, Carnaby is not a member of the club, but "London's finest club steward" who has failed to return from his holiday. Anty decides to launch a rescue campaign and travels with Vickers to the village of Hoy in the Peak District to have at least one question answered, "how is it that Carnaby the club steward's ancestral home is, apparently, a castle?"

Hoy is an ancient place populated with Carnabys, two distinct family lines, divided in two groups, Castle Carnabys and Town Carnabys, of which the first is comprised of the direct descendants of Ranulf Carnaby – whom own Carnaby Castle and surrounding land. However, they only have use of the castle with the eldest descendant holding executive powers "limited to maintenance, upkeep and persecuting witches." That persecuting-of-witches thing saddled the Castle Carnabys with a curse for the past four hundred years targeting the young brides who might bring the Castle Carnabys its next heir. A curse that had been suspended by employing a local witch to counter the curse. Cecil Carnaby, "castle despot," recently returned home with his Italian bride, Ludovica. Cecil is determined to shake things up at the castle and showed his resident witch the door.

Some time later, Ludovica is seen walking on the promontory above Hoy Scarp when "the mists rose from the river, raised her in the air, and flung her into the gorge." Six people witnessed it happen and swear no one was near Ludovica when "the mists carried her right over Hoy Scarp" ("...like the curse used to do in the old days..."). Anty learns of this impossible murder from Inspector Ivor Wittersham, of Scotland Yard, who bump into each other on the train en route to Hoy and Carnaby Castle, but, of course, it's not the only complication facing them. First of all, there's the intricate, crossed family relationships of the Carnabys twisted and intertwined through every aspect of the case. Secondly, Ludovica is a widow with a dead and a missing husband, which is why the other Carnabys considered her a mere gold digger. But her former stepson turned up believing she disappeared his father. And, before the mist carried her away, another member of the family had several near fatal accidents ("you'd almost think that the castle or someone in it was trying to kill her"). Not to mention a string of thefts from locked bedrooms and uncovering a rabbit warren of secreted doors, hidden passageways and underground catacombs.

The Case of the Carnaby Castle Curse is as entertaining and breezy a read as the previous three of Anty's outings, but the plot is regrettably thin and feels less fair. I spotted the murderer early on and tried to be too complicated in trying to find an explanation for Ludovica's impossible murder, which turned out to be something of a letdown. I honestly would have been happy if the solution turned out to be that Ludovica was hit in the back by a crossbow bolt with a rounded, padded tip – making it appear as if she was lifted and flung over the edge. The solution for the thefts from the locked bedrooms practically suggested itself, but perfectly serviceable for a minor subplot. Fortunately, there's a third impossibility somewhat redeeming the book as a locked room mystery. A second murder behind a locked door, what else, but inside is a normally hidden, now open doorway leading to several rooms in the castle. All occupied during the murder and nobody was seen creeping out of one of these hidden doorways! If this impossible murder had a slightly more ambitious locked room-trick, I would likely have placed the book alongside The Case of the Ghost of Christmas Morning on its strength alone.

You can chalk part of my disappoint up to having come across more than one locked room mystery this year toying and playfully subverting secret passages. Normally a big no-no for both the traditional detective story and me personally. So when the scene presented itself, I hoped the book would (plot-wise) pull itself together and deliver a noteworthy impossible crime during the final stretch.

So, once again, Anty sleuthing shenanigans leaves me in two minds. The humorous characters, storytelling and generally having a run of the place remain the series' strong points. And the primary reason to pick up this series. A highlight of The Case of the Carnaby Castle Curse is Anty forging an endearing friendship with a cemetery crow he christens Buns. Even having a few small adventures together along the way ("poor weather for aviation, Buns old man"). But the plots remain uneven and some good ideas undeveloped. Such as the second impossible murder here with its open secret passage or the first locked room murder from the first novel. This time, the who and why all felt a bit muddled and, on a whole, decidedly less fair.

The Case of the Carnaby Castle Curse regrettably stands as the weakest in the series, so far, but think I'll stick with the series for at least two, three more novels. I simply enjoy Anty, Vickers and the humor too much to dump this soon, however, I do hope at least one of them has a plot that can measure up to the second novel. First, I'll return to a few other contemporary locked room specialists. I still have Gigi Pandian's The Raven Thief (2024) and J.L. Blackhurst's Smoke and Murders (2024) on the big pile with the new James Scott Byrnside and Tom Mead looming on the horizon. Next up is a return to the Golden Age!

The Case of the Canterfell Codicil (2020) by P.J. Fitzsimmons

I previously reviewed P.J. Fitzsimmons' The Case of the Ghost of Christmas Morning (2021) and The Tale of the Tenpenny Tontine (2021), second and third novel in the Anthony "Anty" Boisjoly series, which makes The Case of the Canterfell Codicil (2020) the next logical stop – being the first in the series. The Case of the Canterfell Codicil, set in 1928, begins when an unusual telegram is delivered at the Juniper Gentleman's Club addressed to Anty.

The telegram reads, "COME AT ONCE -(STOP)- UNCLE SEB. DEAD -(STOP)- DEFENESTRATED BY UNSEEN HAND -(STOP)- FIDDLES." Fiddles is the nickname of an old college chum, Fairfax Canterfell. Anty has fond memories of the summer holidays he spend with Fiddles at Canterfell Hall and the surrounding countryside of East Sussex. So welcomes an opportunity to go back and help out his friend.

After all, Anty enjoys a modest reputation in his social circle as something of problem solver, "the Alexander to their Gordian knots," but this is the first time he has been asked to help out with a mysterious death. A locked room murder, no less! The victim is Fiddle's uncle, Sebastian Canterfell, who was thrown out of the second-story window of his study located in the ancient tower of the estate ("...designed and built to resist the Norman hordes"). So, beside the open window, the only other way in, or out, is a heavy oak door that was locked on the inside with the key stuck in the lock. Sebastian Canterfell was overheard arguing with someone and another saw him being ejected from the open window. But when they battered down the door, the study was empty!

Canterfell apparently being flung out of the window of an otherwise empty and locked room is not the only complication. There's a rumored codicil to the will of Major Canterfell, family patriarch and elderly father of Sebastian, who "takes insidious pleasure in neither confirming nor denying its existence." A painting impossibly disappears from the conservatory right under everyone's noses. One moment it's there, the next it's gone. Fiddles falls in love with a house guest of his aunt and "he takes on the speech, demeanour and facial expression of one who's been hit on the back of the head with a cricket bat" every time he looks at Rosalind Pierpoint – before getting into much more serious trouble. Inspector Ivor Wittersham arrests him halfway through the story on suspicion of having murdered his uncle following Anty's explanation of the locked room-trick.

Anty has to play dual roles, fairy godmother and amateur sleuth, which is part of the fun of this book and series. Before returning to the plot, I should note that the first thing to recommend about this series are the humorous characters and dialogue placing it alongside the comedic mysteries of Leo Bruce, R.T. Campbell and Edmund Crispin. I guess the comedy is the reason why the series is advertised as "locked room cozies," but the cozy label is doing the series a disservice. They're substantially better plotted than the cozies with pastel covers with cute animals sitting next to bags of yarn or standing in front of a bakery or candy shop. And actually funny once you get acclimated to Anty's personality. I agree with Kate's review that the comedic highlight of The Case of the Canterfell Codicil is Anty recalling the time he made up a parlor game, "Quite Right, Milord," to hide from his mother how drunk his father was at the time. It was a roaring success. The plot themselves have a distinct touch of absurdity, which is probably why they tend to be uneven in quality... judging by the first three novels.

The locked room murder of Sebastian Canterfell is a case in point. The idea behind the locked room-trick is hilariously clever, buzzing with originality and very subtly clued – perhaps too subtly clued for it to be fully effective. I think those clues would have been strengthened and made the solution a whole lot fairer had the reader been told up front (ROT13) gung gur xrl unq orra tyhrq vagb cynpr. Which should not have given too much away as the locked room-trick was revealed halfway through anyway. It would have given the reader an opportunity to roughly work out the trick for themselves. Not to mention that that piece of information particularly would have nicely complimented the bizarre clue of (ROT13) gur cbgngb fghpx va gur fcrnxvat ghor. Still a really fun idea for a locked room murder and surprised something similar hasn't been used before to eject someone from an empty, sealed room. There's also the seemingly impossible disappearance of the painting and a second locked room murder, a faked suicide, but both impossibilities are fairly minor plot-threads with simple solutions.

So the strength of The Case of the Canterfell Codicil is in the overall plot, but the devil is in the details there as well. Fitzsimmons is not a mystery writer you'll catch red-handed being dull or boring, but the finer plot-details aren't always executed with the same rigor as his Golden Age counterparts. That can be frustrating as they're so close to the genuine article and honestly leaves me in two minds, which is why I want to tackle The Case of the Carnaby Castle Curse (2022) next before deciding to get Reckoning at the Riviera Royale (2022), The Case of the Case of Kilcladdich (2023) and Foreboding Foretelling at Ficklehouse Felling (2023). They're cheap enough as ebooks to continue. So, for now, a recommendation as very entertaining pastiches/parodies of the Golden Age detective story.

The Tale of the Tenpenny Tontine (2021) by P.J. Fitzsimmons

In 2020, P.J. Fitzsimmons debuted his series of humorous, lighthearted historical locked room “cozies” about the bantering, snooping idler-about-town Anthony "Anty" Boisjoly – who's ever ready with a funny quip or unhelpful comment. I was aware of the series since The Case of the Canterfell Codicil (2020) was published, but the series description "cozies" made me hesitant to give it a try. I've been tricked before!

I decided last December the season was appropriate enough to take a risk on a Christmas-themed locked room cozy, even it turned out the plot lacked any kind of substance. So picked up The Case of the Ghost of Christmas Morning (2021), second title in the Anty Boisjoly series, which proved to be a pleasant surprise. Leo Bruce meets Jonathan Creek plotted around a handful of impossible crimes and inexplicable situations. It has everything from a murderer who leaves no footprints in the snow and ghostly visitations to the theft of the church's weather vane. The solutions are neither routine nor uninspired. I immediately added the first and third title to the big pile.

So anyone who's not a willfully, chronologically-challenged dipstick would have peddled back and started The Case of the Canterfell Codicil, but the third novel, The Tale of the Tenpenny Tontine (2021), has a premise I found hard to ignore – not merely for its alluring locked room premise. Detective stories plotted around the classic tontine scheme tend to be good or at least a ton of fun. I always enjoy them!

The Tale of the Tenpenny Tontine begins at the Juniper Gentleman's Club, in Mayfair, where Anty gives his condolences to his fellow clubman, Tristian "Lager" Tenpenny, who recently lost his Uncle Ratcliffe and Cousin Hadley. Ratcliffe Tenpenny and Hadley Tenpenny were two elderly relatives and "rival beneficiaries" in "the vast, unfathomable wealth of the Tenpenny Tontine." A tontine that was established in 1825 and has been accumulating a fortune over the course of more than a century, but it's going to be dissolved upon the death of either Ratcliffe or Hadley. And the whole pile goes to the last survivor. Ratcliffe and Hadley "shared" a house, Wedge Hedge Square, which was cut in half. One half was for Ratcliffe and Lager and the other half for Hadley and Lager's cousin, Victoria. Another part "remained neutral ground" for receiving guests and shouting matches ("this was very much a house divided").

Ratcliffe and Hadley apparently decided to take matters into their own hands and settle the whole thing in a good, old-fashioned duel. They appear to have locked themselves into the reading room and barricaded the doors by slipping a candle stick through the handles. When they're inside, they take a shot at each other with dueling pistols with troublesome results. They both end up "lifelessly slumped into their wood and wicker wheelchairs" dead of gunshot wounds to the heart. So the problem starts out not as a double murder in a locked room, but a question as to whom dead first? If there's a despite over the legal claim, the court could award the whole lot to the crown instead of one of the heirs, Lager or Victoria. Lager asks Anty to do "that thing you do" and see if he can discover who died had first.

It doesn't take Anty long to turn a simple, uncomplicated case of an illegal duel with two fatalities into a full-blown locked room murder. Not the last, seemingly impossible murder, to take place in that room. A third murder sees the room barricaded with a chair with the added complication that the murderer appears to have left the room without leaving bloody footprints all over the place. I'll return to the locked rooms in moment.

Just like the previous novel, The Tale of the Tenpenny Tontine very much is a continuation of the comedy mysteries and genre parodies of Leo Bruce, R.T. Campbell and Edmund Crispin. A story full of eccentric characters, witty dialogue and scenes in which two collide head on. I particular enjoyed the lot of character who turned up for this one. Like the family lawyer, Chauncey "Chancy" Proctor, who hails from a long line of "notoriously inept solicitors" known and dutifully maintained "the appallingly low standard of advice and care the firm had been offering its clients for generations" – not wholly unsuccessfully either. There's a maid who pilfers umbrellas and walking sticks and the crowd at the Swashbuckling Society with their glorious tales of adventure, daring-does and crooked duels, but the best character and hero of the book is Hadley's "wire-haired havoc on four legs." A Scots Terrier variably-named Satan, Lucifer, Diabolus, etc., who has it in for employees of His Majesty's Postal Service. He's the reason why they haven't had a letter-box delivery for months as the postman usually pushes their letters into the hedge, before fleeing in terror. But the devil gets to help Anty solve the case. So he really is the hero good boy of the story.

The Tale of the Tenpenny Tontine is a very amusing, highly readable and lighthearted mystery that's over before you notice it. I breezed through it at a leisurely pace. It therefore pains me to to say that the story, plot-wise, is not a patch on its predecessor. The Case of the Ghost of Christmas Morning admirably balanced the lighthearted comedy with clever plotting and the locked room-tricks had some creativity behind them. I found that a bit lacking here with overall plot aiming for short term effect with the long term consequences causing the case to become muddled, which can work, but it didn't feel like it really held together here. Not convincingly. For example, the supposed duel in the locked room (SPOILER/ROT13) bayl jbexf orpnhfr ab nhgbcfl vf rire zragvbarq, cerfhznoyl abg cresbezrq, orpnhfr vg jbhyq erirny bar zna unq orra yrtvgvzngryl fubg naq gur bgure bar unq qvrq sebz n fgno jbhaq erfrzoyvat n thafubg jbhaq sebz n qhryvat cvfgby. The other locked room murder is fine, if you don't expect anything fancy from the solution, but it probably would have worked better had the room not been barricaded. Just the problem of the murderer crossing "the pool of blood between the body and the door" without leaving bloody footprints would have been good enough considering its solution.

So still enjoyed the hell out of it, but definitely expected more from the plot and its pair of locked room murders after the previous one. I was also a little disappointed. The Case of the Ghost of Christmas Morning has earned this series enough credit to not immediately abandon it. Every series has its dips. You can expect reviews of The Case of the Canterfell Codicil and The Case of the Carnaby Castle Curse (2022) in the near future. Hopefully, they provide me with ample reason to move to the fantastic sounding The Case of the Case of Kilcladdich (2023) and Foreboding Foretelling at Ficklehouse Felling (2023). That first title is not misspelled with one of my redundant typos and the second one sounds like a long-lost episode from Scooby Doo, Where Are You? So don't let me down Fitzsimmons!

A note for the curious: I still intend to do an addendum to "The Locked Room Mystery & Impossible Crime Story in the 21st Century," an excuse to talk about impossible crimes thinly disguised as a historical overview, to focus on the developments from the 2015 to 2025 period. I want to make it either the last post of this year or the first one of next year. Yeah, adorably optimistic and another thinly disguised excuse to sink into another locked room study. So expect a noticeable uptick this year of locked room reviews from the 2015/25 period and the 2000s in general.

The Case of the Ghost of Christmas Morning (2021) by P.J. Fitzsimmons

P.J. Fitzsimmons is a ghostwriter for mainstream genres who "dreams of an alternative reality in which P.G. Wodehouse wrote locked room mysteries." Not content with waiting for the Mandela Effect to release a reality-update to patch that flaw, Fitzsimmons took matters into his own hands with the Anty Boisjoly series of classically-styled, "strictly for laughs," historical locked room cozies – nine to date published between 2020 and 2024. Fitzsimmons describes his literary shenanigans as "either an inexcusable offense to several beloved canons or a hilarious, fast-paced, manor house murder mystery."

I was honestly put off a little by the "cozy" label, but the second novel in the series, The Case of the Ghost of Christmas Morning (2021), is a seasonally appropriate mystery. So why not give it a shot and see if the series is worth pursuing.

The Case of the Ghost of Christmas Morning, set in 1928, brings professional idler and man-about-town, Anty Boisjoly, to the dairy town of Graze Hill to spend Christmas with his Aunty Azalea at Herding House. Upon his arrival, Aunty Azalea greets her nephew with the following lines that open the story, "Merry Christmas Anty dear. There's a dead body under the tree." The victim is her neighbor, Major Aaron “Flaps” Fleming, who garnered fame as brave, dare devil World War I flying ace – "credited with shooting down forty-one enemy aircraft." After the war ended, the reclusive Flaps Fleming retired from public life and took Tannery Lodge in Graze Hill. That's where Aunty Azalea found him on Christmas morning with a knife-handle sticking out of his back, but there are two worryingly aspects about the murder.

Firstly, there are two trails of footprints in the snow leading to Tannery Lodge. One track of footprints belong to Flap Fleming and the other track of footprints to Azalea, which is good news for the police, but her nephew won't stand for Detective-Inspector Ivor Wittersham measuring his aunt's neck for a noose. But how did the real murderer escape from the lodge without leaving footprints in the snow? Secondly, hours after the murder was discovered, Flaps Fleming apparently walked into the Sulky Cow and "stood everyone a round of drinks" before walking back to the lodge to resume his duties as corpse. This is not going to be the last time a fresh murder victim decides to have a final drink at the local pub. Not to mention the problem of the theft of the church's weather vane from the tower without any footprints of the thief on the snowy roof.

In that regard, The Case of the Ghost of Christmas Morning follows the pattern of today's emerging locked room specialists who aren't satisfied with merely one, or two, impossible crimes and inexplicable situations – preferring to string together numerous, often interconnected impossibilities. Where the story differs, however, is the focus on the characters, potential motives, a webwork of secrets and comedy rather than plot-mechanics. I understand the other novels give more attention to the locked room problems, but here Anty has to poke around the depleted regulars of the Sulky Cow ("...Graze Hill is something of a ghost town over Christmas") and some other curious arrivals in town. Such as the victim's foppish nephew, Cosmo Millicent, who's determined to write his uncle wartime biography and one of Flap Fleming's old wartime flying buddies, Flight-Lieutenant Montgomery Hern-Fowler. And he has his own Christmas ghost story to tell. The whole thing is drenched in witty dialogue and hilarious misunderstandings in the great tradition of British comedy.

Fitzsimmons noted that this series is a homage to the likes of P.G. Wodehouse, Jerome K. Jerome, Margery Allingham and Dorothy L. Sayers, but The Case of the Ghost of Christmas Morning stands closer to comedic mysteries of Leo Bruce, Edmund Crispin, R.T. Campbell and David Renwick's Jonathan Creek. A comedic highlight of the story is Reverend Padget composing a Christmas carol, "intended to be sung to the tune of In dulci jubilo," which recounts in rhyme "the events leading to the death by stoning of Saint Stephen." Anty had "rashly lavished" praised on the atrocity without reading it nor knowing what it would lead to. So the book is never boring, always amusing and sometimes genuinely funny, even if Anty puts it on a little too thickly at times. So it handily avoided one of the biggest sins a detective story can be guilty of, namely being dull and boring, but worried about the plot and where the ending was heading. Could a comedic, tongue-in-cheek mystery deliver on the intriguing premise when the plot-mechanics haven't been given the fullest attention and consideration? Surprisingly, it did. Well, mostly.

The solutions to the various impossibilities are, pleasantly, neither routine nor uninspired and think its actually quite clever how more than half of those various, different impossible situations (SPOILER/ROT13) jrer rkcynvarq ol gur zheqrere univat npprff gb gur pybpx gbjre jvgu vgf sbhe-fvqrq, vaqrcraqrag pybpx snprf. A glimpse of what could have been had Christopher Bush fully applied himself to the impossible crime tale. I'm still in two minds about the murder and ghostly appearance of Flaps Flemings at the Sulky Cow. Anty needed to do a lot of talking to make it sound halfway convincing, not even wholly unsuccessfully, because I can see how it would work when (SPOILER/ROT13) gur vzcrefbangvbaf ner vagregjvarq naq rirelbar unf frra/vagrenpgrq jvgu obgu irefvbaf. But why? I thought the motive and reasoning behind that part of the solution to be a trifle weak, but, other than that, The Case of the Ghost of Christmas Morning proved to be a better than expected and welcome addition to the growing list of Christmas (locked room) mysteries. The Case of the Canterfell Codicil (2020) and The Tale of the Tenpenny Tontine (2021) are going to be added to the big pile for 2025.