Ngaio Marsh was one of the queens (she has been called the empress) of England’s Golden Age of mystery fiction. And in true Golden Age fashion, her oeuvre opens with, yes, 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.

Ngaio Marsh was, among other things, a well-respected theatrical producer (having started out as an actress), and her passion for and knowledge of the theater was displayed in many of Alleyn’s adventures. In Enter a Murderer, the Inspector 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.

For one unlucky Member of Parliament, a simple visit to the hospital (the “nursing home” of the title) proves fatal. But as Inspector Alleyn will discover, any number of people had reason to help the gentleman to his just reward, including the sour surgeon, his besotted nurse, a resentful wife, and a cabinet full of political rivals.

Ahhh, prussic acid, that hallmark of classic Golden Age mysteries. Did lovely Cara Quoyne get a whiff of the bitter almonds as she raised the goblet to her lips? We’ll never know: With a single sip she transported herself to the Hereafter.At least, that’s the romantic view. But Inspector Alleyn has little interest in romance; he’s investigating a murder. Cara was a deeply spiritual young woman, a novice with the House of the Sacred Flame. It seems, however, that somebody was operating from very un-spiritual motivations.

Inspector Roderick Alleyn has to date confined his investigations to England, but Vintage Murder finds him journeying to New Zealand (Ngaio Marsh’s homeland). Traveling with Alleyn are the members of the Carolyn Dacres English Comedy Company. The actors' operatic intrigues offer an amusing diversion until, unexpectedly, they turn deadly. And Alleyn learns – not for the last time – that while he may be able to leave his badge back in Blighty, he’s still a policeman, even on the other side of the world.

The new series of Ngaio Marsh editions concludes with a new edition of her autobiography. What sort of person was Ngaio Marsh, whose detective novels made her name known throughout the world? With all the insight and sense of style her readers have come to expect of her, her autobiography reveals the influences and environment that have shaped her personality. Widely acclaimed when first published in 1965, Black Beech and Honeydew is a sensitive account of Ngaio Marsh's childhood and adolescence in Christchurch and the establishment of her theatre and writing careers both there and in the UK. It captures all the joys, fears and hopes of a spirited young woman growing up and transmits an artist's gradual awareness of the special flavour of life in New Zealand and the individual character of its landscape. Fully revised and updated in 1981, this new edition is reissued 21 years later as a commemoration of Ngaio Marsh's life and work. It is a sanguine, poised, unpretentious, thoughtful and often moving record of a full life, and -- despite its unavailability for nearly 20 years -- has been acclaimed as her most distinguished work. No one who had read and enjoyed any of Ngaio Marsh's 32 novels can afford to overlook this gifted and charming autobiography.

In the movies, it’s known as a “meet cute.” But for Inspector Alleyn and Miss Agatha Troy, it’s more like irritation: On the ship back to England, she finds him 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, then he gets a call that a model has been stabbed at the artists’ community down the road. And the artistic Miss Troy is one of the community’s most prominent and outspoken members.

Ah, the London Debutante Season: 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 loveable; 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 murder in the little English village, but the two local spinsters, Miss Campanula, the victim, and Miss Prentice, her friend who may have been the intended victim, are not exactly the beloved little old ladies of song and story. They were (and are) waspish, gossiping snobs, passionate only about their own narrowly defined religion….and, perhaps, about the local vicar. But could they have been sufficiently unpleasant to provoke a murderer?

It’s true, darts is nobody’s idea of a low-risk amusement, yet it is rarely lethal. Tell that to the famous barrister who was enjoying a pint at the Plume of Feathers pub, and is now residing at the morgue. Inspector Roderick Alleyn has a growing hunch that the peculiar “accident” can be traced to an old legal case.

Inspector Alleyn probes the untimely death of Charles Lamprey's wealthy older brother and uncovers a ruthless killer among members of the British aristocracy. Reissue.