A cry of mourning, intolerably loud, rose from beyond the willows and hung on the night air. A thrush whirred out of the thicket close to her face, and the cry broke and wavered again. It was the howl of a dog. She pushed through the thicket into an opening by the river, and found the body of Colonel Carterette with his spaniel beside it, mourning him.

The unspeakably wealthy (and generally unspeakable) Jonathan Royal has decided to throw a party. And because nothing amuses him more than others' discomfort, he has studded the guest-list with people who loathe one another. Their mutual enmity would be delicious enough on its own, but Royal can only barely contain his delight when the snowfall, at first so pretty, turns to a blizzard and imprisons them all. Murder, of course, is the eventual outcome, but—in true Christie-esque tradition, there are nearly as many suspects as there are potential victims. And while Inspector Alleyn does (of course) show up to put things right, the great pleasure in this book lies in the characterizations, not least of the titular footman, whose favorite dance, it seems, is "Boomps-a-daisy!"

A footman should not be dancing when on duty. But suppose he does — what will be the consequences for the solving of a murder puzzle?

As particular about her horses as she was casual about her lovers, young Dulcie Harkness courted trouble — and found it in a lonely and dangerous jump. What will her death reveal? Young Roderick Alleyn (Ricky) is the object of special interest.

On vacation in New Zealand, Inspector Alleyn meets a theater troupe engaged in a real-life drama more killing than anything they’ve ever staged. When the producer is struck down at a celebration party with a jeroboam of champagne. Inspector Alleyn moves quickly behind the scenes. There he encounters a malevolent Maori idol, a peculiar will, and an unknown thespian whose role is pure murder…

It was April in Rome, and gathered together in the church of San Tommaso in Pallario was the kind of varied group of people that can only meet on a tour. They were there under the aegis of one Sebastian Mailer, who had promised them a most unconventional tour — a claim no one later disputed, after encountering murder, blackmail and drug-running. Inspector Roderick Alleyn, in Rome on a special mission, became involved in the case, and found it one of his most baffling — a case in which every suspect might equally well prove a victim…

The second book from Chief-Detective Inspector Roderick Alleyn series.

Some distinguished guests at Sir Hubert Handesley’s country estate decide to play exotic games. But when a corpse turns out to be it , the game gets vicious. In steps the renowned Inspector Alleyn, who moves coolly through this world of butlers and Bentleys to unravel a coil of scandal, conspiracy, and murder most foul…

Among the guests at the Plume of Feathers on the memorable evening of the murder were a West End matinée idol, a successful portrait painter, an Oxford-educated farmer’s daughter, a radical organizer and assorted rustics and villagers. Each of them had an opportunity to place the deadly poison on the dart that seemingly had been the instrument of murder. But no one admitted seeing any suspicious movement on the part of anyone else. And what exactly had been the method of the killer? This was the problem Inspector Alleyn had to solve — and he does so with all of his accustomed verve and brilliance.

A murder in aristocratic circles. The seventh mystery in Chief Detective-Inspector Alleyn series.

A model murder… where a famous painter Agatha Troy, R.A., makes her appearance.

The Sommita lay spread-eagled on her back across a red counterpane. The bosom of her red biblical dress had been torn down to the waist and under her left breast, irrelevantly, unbelievably, the haft of a knife stuck out. The right arm, rigid as a branch, was raised in the fascist salute. She might have been posed for the jacket on an all-too-predictable shocker…