I have tried to read other books by Marsh with little success. I was
browsing the bookshelf culling the unwanteds for space and put most of
them in the sell back box but this one I hung onto. And it caught me.
Peregrine Jay is directing “MacBeth” at the Dolphin theater in London,
hoping for a smashing success and a long run. The first half of the book
is the telling of his casting of the characters, the initial rehearsals
with blocking and choreographing the swordfight. Everything is perfect,
right down to the reproduction swords and claymore used on stage.
Unfortunately, someone has taken the curse of MacBeth seriously and fake
MacBeth heads made as props for the end scene keep turning up in the
wrong places. And on opening night, the real MacBeth’s head ends up
dripping from the pike as the curtain falls, stunning the cast.
Thank heavens, Inspector Alleyn was in the front row. And thank heavens
the killer confesses since Alleyn is nowhere close to solving the mystery
as the book closes. In fact, I don’t think he had a clue. Which was
exactly my problem with the rest of the novels; they just sort of wander
around. This one just happened to have the wonderful lead up of the play
to catch and hold my attention. And the use of a Maori guy as one of the
witches. But I won’t be buying anymore. Sigh.
The View from the Foothills 
How odd that you don’t like Marsh’s books! I think they are a treat. I agree that they do sort of wander about, but isn’t that what a detective does? He wanders about, following this lead and that, and talking to everyone? And that’s the part I like about Marsh–she does fun characters. I enjoy watching Alleyn interact with them.
Many of her later books use the same technique of having a long section at the beginning that reads more like a standard novel than a mystery, with Alleyn coming in about halfway through.
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yeah, you’d think so wouldn’t you! I even tried the one titled “Died in the Wool” which should have been right up my ally and got bored about a third of the way in. Maybe it’s timing. It took me two or three attempts to appreciate P.D James and you know I like her, alot. I usually never write off authors totally. Someday…..
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