Our First Murder

by Torrey Chanslor

Book Overview

Book annotation not available for this title...Title: .Our First Murder..Author: .Chanslor, Torrey..Publisher: .Rue Morgue..Publication Date: .2002/07/01..Number of Pages: .191..Binding Type:... This description may be from another edition of this product.

• Format: Paperback
• Language: English
• ISBN: 091523050X
• ISBN13: 9780915230501
• Release Date: January 2002
• Publisher: Rue Morgue Press
• Length: 191 Pages
• Weight: 0.70 lbs.
• Dimensions: 0.5" x 6.1" x 9.1"

Customer Reviews

A wonderful series from a wonderful publisher

I loved this book so much I bought it for my Mom and my boyfriend's mom. It hearkens back to the days of 1940s screwball mystery movies, was written around then and the characters seem to be based on actual movie actors of that time. There are only two books in the series (My Second Murder is a scream, also), which is a shame. However, if you hunger for more, I can recommend almost any entry in the Rue Morgue publishing catalog. The Joan Coggin books, for instance, have a real Gracie Allen zeitgeist to them, and the Kelley Roos books run in the same vein as The Thin Man (the movies, not the book). The price is very reasonable for a nicely made paperback. If you are looking for a nice gift for a mystery lover who also loves old movies, you could do worse than to buy them both of these Torrey Chanslor books.

Predictability doesn't have to be a negative thing. Actually 3.75 stars.

The Beagle sisters, Amanda (age 65) and Lutie (age 62), use their gift for observation and a healthy dose of New Englander common sense to solve what they call "our first murder". The sisters are living a quiet, pleasant life in East Biddicutt (the state is never actually mentioned but I got the strong impression that it was probably in upstate New York) with their cousin Martha "Marthy" Meecham (age 52) when a letter arrives from an attorney stating that their brother Ezekiel has died and named his sisters as inheritors in his will. Part of his estate is a successful detective agency. The sisters and Martha immediately close up the house and with the pet cat and cussing parrot sail forth to take New York City by storm. I found this book to be a very entertaining read. The sisters run completely true to what you would expect of a "nice" detective novel written in 1940. Amanda is the eldest sister and the "take charge" person. She has the practical character traits and is the definite leader of the group. Lutie is the "fluffy" character who loves to read detective stories and is the observant person who actually solves the mystery, even picking up clues which Inspector Moore of the police misses. Marthy is the narrator of the story and is Lutie's Dr. Watson. Two of these women, Lutie and Marthy, go into places and accomplish feats of detection which would be impossible except for that guardian angel sitting on Lutie's shoulder. Their innocence and other-worldliness carry them through all the dangerous situations they put themselves in. I must admit to being rather surprised at the gruesomness of this crime. Soon after reaching New York City and getting settled ino the living quarters attached to the detective agency the sisters get a call from a man who has been a client in the past. He is in the apartment of a female friend and needs advice. It seems she is not there but the body of a murdered man is lying on her bed. And the corpse is headless. Gosh, this author didn't half give these genteel older ladies a nasty crime for their "first murder". I liked the writing style for this story and am very glad that The Rue Morgue Press chose this story as one to reprint. According to the introduction information regarding the author of this book she only wrote two mysteries, this one and then "Our Second Murder". There were two things which I didn't like very much in the book but they will not keep me from getting the second book. My first item of irritation came from the way the propriertress of the rooming house was written. Madame LaVelle was an extremely theatrical person - which probably explains why everyone residing in her home was of an artistic bent - and she was trying to maintain the fiction that she was French. Therefore we had the constant writing of her dialogue as if she had a French accent but halfway through a sentence she would drop the accent and just be herself. I got really, really tired of that. Madame LaVel