Charlie Harris is a mid-fifties librarian in a small college in Athens, Mississippi, who shares his house with a cast of characters, and two cats; Ramses, an orange tabby, and Diesel, a 35 lb. Maine Coon the size of apparently a Beagle (why this cat is not in the Guinness Book of Records, I don’t know). Charlie, being a proper Southern Gentleman, and a nosy coot who believes he can do a better job than the police, decides he needs to get involved in every mystery that crosses his path, like some kind of bibliophile Jessica Fletcher or Ms. Marple. This gets him nearly killed. A lot. That changes absolutely nothing.
In this, the seventeenth book, Charlie and his new wife Helen Louise Brady, have arrived in Ireland for their honeymoon, specifically to County Clare, ancestral home to Helen Louise’s extended family, the O’Bradys. Her cousin Lorcan runs the family castle as a bed-and-breakfast with his wife, daughter and son-in-law. But upon arrival at the castle, the newlyweds are shocked to see a body falling from the roof.
The dead man is the centenarian Baron of the O’Brady Clan, Finn, who also happens to be Lorcan’s grandfather. Was someone in a hurry for Lorcan to assume the title and ownership of the estate, or is there another reason for wanting Finn dead? And why is Fergal, the ghostly cat haunting the castle, making an appearance in their room? (Yes, for a series firmly set in reality, it now has spectral cats). Charlie and Helen Louise must answer these questions and more as they realize the local garda can’t solve the crime alone. (Of course not, not with Charlie around.) And along with Diesel they will have to investigate themselves (must they?) or risk something wicked coming their way…
This was on par with the rest of the series; not great, not terrible, just readable, and mildly entertaining. It was interesting that not everything (actually basically nothing) was 100% wrapped up or solved at the end of the book. It came across sometimes like a book written by someone who had done some surface, cursory research into Ireland and wanted to show it off, as well as go down a checklist of Irish stereotypes. I was honestly waiting for a “top of the morning!” or a “Faith and Begorra!” I was also surprised there wasn’t a Moira or Fiona in the bunch, as we were one character away from a “Paddy O’ Furniture” (and didn’t my great-grandfather roll over in his grave with me typing that.) We even had the drunk, layabout wretch with a fiery temper and a long-suffering wife. Most of the other characters are varying degrees of Irish, except for the glacial German-speaking Swiss housekeeper, who of course has a dark secret; doesn’t everyone have dark secrets in cozy mysteries? And for a couple that has been married for a little over two months, do Charlie and Helen Louise snipe at each other; though that may be partially because Helen Louise realizes that if she and Diesel get into a leaky rowboat, she better know how to swim. Or it could be that Charlie in every book proves to be justified in his “lovable, nosy, believes-he’s-always-right-and-knows-better-than-the-cops scamp” behavior. It’s grating, and I’m not law enforcement.
Largest takeaway was that if white or red wine, or whisky (or Guinness for the lower-class layabout), ever disappeared from the world these people would die of thirst. I think anyone might say that when you’re putting away at the minimum 6 to 8 glasses daily, you might have a small problem…
At least the cover illustrations of Diesel are getting closer in appearance to that of a Main Coon; earlier covers made Diesel look more like a British Shorthair with a blowout.