I fifth or something Dorothy Sayers. Gaudy Night is one of my favorite books, period, not just mysteries. Although it’s technically not a murder mystery. Run, don’t walk, to the bookstore, seriously; they’re very literary and oh so amazing. (Some of them are rather obnoxiously Train Schedule Mysteries, though, forewarned.) I’ve been rationing them ever since I read Gaudy Night because obviously she’s long dead and when I’ve read them all, that’s it; I just finished The Nine Tailors and while it’s Vane-less, it’s excellent. The only problem is that:
Like most older British mysteries, some of the clues are soooo freaking obvious. “Oh, back after the original theft, the Bad Servant who got put away escaped and was found dead two years later at the bottom of a quarry, still wearing his convict uniform!” Does anybody on earth not read that and say “Not only is he not dead, but we have already probably met the guy!” I guess that’s one of the problems with a true murder mystery where theoretically you ought to have enough pieces to put it together when the detective does; it’s either too easy or too hard. But that’s okay, I don’t read them to figure out who did it anyway.