(no subject)

[flemmings]

It seems to me that in classic mysteries of the Agatha Christie sort, the know-it-all who hints darkly that they suspect someone whom of course they will not name, promptly becomes the next victim. Of course one must not murder one's detective, but it would help if someone at least bashed Gideon Fell over the head when he starts doing his 'I know but I won't tell you' routine. Actually, I think he did get knocked about more in earlier novels but at the moment he's keeping schtum while the bodies pile up in reckess abandon.

Otherwise, this being the last guaranteed dry day for a bit, with high winds forecast as well, I got a laundry on the line at last. We're also back to a run of warmer than average temps, so no furnace till late next week. Anyway, I have underwear and shirts enough to last me a fortnight. Glad that's done.

Comments

[kore]

OMFG that drives me NUTS. I was just rereading a Dalgliesh novel, for my sins, and I swear this happened:

"You know who it is," Dalgliesh said in his commandery sexy-yet-entirely-repressed way. "The question is, can we prove it? Almost certainly not."

"Nosir," Kate agreed, nursing her unrequited love which made me want to fling the book across the room.

Dalgliesh briefly explained who he thought had done it and why. Kate agreed. They were to set the trap. The only question was -- would it work? Or would the murderer of Suspect Absolutely Hated walk free forever?

And I'm just sitting there like, okay that's taking your omniscient narration trick A LITTLE TOO FAR, PHYLLIS.

[flemmings]

Oh dear, oh dear. And Fen decided to set a trap in this one too, but at least it backfired to the extent that the murderer started taking potshots at him in a dark rainy wood and was only saved by the large senile dog Fen was tracking with going batshit insane at the sound.

Seems to me that even the best inspector series gets into a rut after a while. Aside from them being drunks or sexist pigs or both.