Maureen Sarsfield (1899–1961)
Author of Murder at Shots Hall
About the Author
Series
Works by Maureen Sarsfield
Gloriana 1 copy
Tagged
Common Knowledge
- Other names
- Heard, Maureen Kate (birth)
Pretyman, Maureen (married) - Birthdate
- 1899
- Date of death
- 1961-11-12
- Gender
- female
- Occupations
- novelist
mystery novelist
children's book author - Short biography
- Maureen Sarsfield was the pen name of Maureen Kate Heard, later Maureen Pretyman, born in Hampshire, England in 1899 or 1900. In 1919, she married George Frederick Pretyman in London. She was the author of two humorous mysteries, Green December Fills the Graveyard (1945), set in a partially-bombed out country manor in the later years of World War II, later reprinted as Murder at Shots Hall; and A Dinner for None (1948), later reprinted as Murder at Beechlands. She also wrote a non-mystery novel, Gloriana (1946), and several children's books, including Queen Victoria Lost Her Crown (1946).
- Nationality
- UK
- Birthplace
- Hampshire, England, UK
- Places of residence
- Hastings, Sussex, England, UK
- Place of death
- Cork, Ireland
- Associated Place (for map)
- England, UK
Members
Reviews
This is a top-notch story that should appeal to most cozy mystery fans.
Anabel Adams is desperate. She is deep in debt and in danger of losing her beloved hotel, Beechlands. But help could be on the horizon in the form of two rival investors who are coming to spend the weekend and inspect the hotel. Eager to make a good—yet inaccurate—impression, Anabel organizes a party in honor of war hero & notorious womanizer, Lawty Lawrence. She invites elite members of the smart set that are sure show more to delight Lawty and to impress her potential investors.
Unfortunately, an ill-timed blizzard derails Anabel’s well-laid plans, and all of her carefully selected guests cancel at the last minute. Now Anabel must make do with her meager paying hotel guests and her dull neighbors to make the party a success. But how successful can a party for Lawty be when one of the guests is a woman he cruelly cast aside and another is a man whose wife Lawty ran off with a couple of years ago?
Before the party can even get underway, Lawty is found dead in the snow underneath his bedroom window. At first, it seems to be suicide; but, when stranded motorist Inspector Lane Parry of Scotland Yard appears on the scene, he recognizes an obvious case of murder when he sees it. With the hotel snowed in and the phone lines cut, it’s up to the reluctant Inspector Parry to hunt down clues and interrogate the nutty array of suspects to find the murderer.
An isolated English country manor house is just about the ideal backdrop for any cozy mystery story, and Murder at Beechlands does not disappoint. The inhabitants of Beechlands are an unpleasant, but kooky, bunch of characters; almost any one of them has the potential to be the killer. The action is virtually non-stop, and there are a lot of red herrings lurking in the plot. Is Beechlands really cursed and haunted? Why do three mysterious knocks always seem to portend disaster at Beechlands? Just what did Miss Killigrew see in Lawty’s bedroom? And why is Cintra’s mouth always open? Or does it all boil down to the fact that a notorious criminal is lurking amongst the hotel staff?
This amusing, high-speed romp will really keep readers guessing until the end. show less
Anabel Adams is desperate. She is deep in debt and in danger of losing her beloved hotel, Beechlands. But help could be on the horizon in the form of two rival investors who are coming to spend the weekend and inspect the hotel. Eager to make a good—yet inaccurate—impression, Anabel organizes a party in honor of war hero & notorious womanizer, Lawty Lawrence. She invites elite members of the smart set that are sure show more to delight Lawty and to impress her potential investors.
Unfortunately, an ill-timed blizzard derails Anabel’s well-laid plans, and all of her carefully selected guests cancel at the last minute. Now Anabel must make do with her meager paying hotel guests and her dull neighbors to make the party a success. But how successful can a party for Lawty be when one of the guests is a woman he cruelly cast aside and another is a man whose wife Lawty ran off with a couple of years ago?
Before the party can even get underway, Lawty is found dead in the snow underneath his bedroom window. At first, it seems to be suicide; but, when stranded motorist Inspector Lane Parry of Scotland Yard appears on the scene, he recognizes an obvious case of murder when he sees it. With the hotel snowed in and the phone lines cut, it’s up to the reluctant Inspector Parry to hunt down clues and interrogate the nutty array of suspects to find the murderer.
An isolated English country manor house is just about the ideal backdrop for any cozy mystery story, and Murder at Beechlands does not disappoint. The inhabitants of Beechlands are an unpleasant, but kooky, bunch of characters; almost any one of them has the potential to be the killer. The action is virtually non-stop, and there are a lot of red herrings lurking in the plot. Is Beechlands really cursed and haunted? Why do three mysterious knocks always seem to portend disaster at Beechlands? Just what did Miss Killigrew see in Lawty’s bedroom? And why is Cintra’s mouth always open? Or does it all boil down to the fact that a notorious criminal is lurking amongst the hotel staff?
This amusing, high-speed romp will really keep readers guessing until the end. show less
First Line: "NO," Flik's aunt had said.
Flikka Ashley and her Aunt Bee Chattock live in Shots Hall in Sussex. Two-thirds of the manor house was destroyed by German bombs, and the two women live in what's left. Poverty is sniffing around outside the big oak door; Flik and Bee do their best to ward it off by selling an occasional bottle of vintage liquor or some of Flik's sculptures, but it's tough going. When Molly Pritchard, an old family retainer, is murdered, Arnoldson, the loathsome local show more copper, is determined to pin the deed on Flik. Fortunately Scotland Yard Inspector Lane Parry is sent to take charge. Finding the real killer is not going to be a walk in the park.
I seldom read vintage mysteries. It's a rare occurrence when the publishing date on any mystery I read is older than 1990. In many ways, I blame Nancy Drew for this. I tried reading Nancy when I was a child, but I laughed every time she donned a fresh frock and jumped into her roadster. No, my preference has almost always gone to the current crop of crime. Now that I've read Murder at Shots Hall, my preferences may need a bit of adjusting.
The author, Maureen Sarsfield, is every bit as much of a mystery as two of the three books she wrote. Her two mysteries, Murder at Shots Hall and Murder at Beechlands, feature Inspector Lane Parry of Scotland Yard. Both books were published in the late 1940s and quickly picked up by American publishers, which was unusual for that time. However, after three books, Sarsfield vanished and no one knows what happened to her.
I wish she had continued to write because this book shows real talent. Sarsfield shows a knack for setting, plot, pacing, humor, and characterization. Almost every bit of it is shown through dialogue and action-- Sarsfield does not tie bibs around our necks and spoon feed us information. I like that. A lot.
The small village is filled to the rafters with suspects because everyone's personal habits and business is common knowledge to all, and Sarsfield's skill brings them to life while Parry struggles to keep them all straight. Congreve, a police constable who's a welcome bit of comic relief, sums it up best:
"This is like driving a car along the road and every corner another passenger 'ops on board," Congreve decided cheerfully.
"All I can say is," Parry grunted, "that I hope the springs don't give way from the strain."
Does the author ever put a foot wrong? Occasionally. If I had a dollar for each time Flik is described as lovely, my next trip to the UK would be assured. The description of the loathsome local copper is a bit heavy-handed (although enjoyable in spots), and the resident doctor may be thought of as heartless unless the reader is truly paying attention. I have to admit that none of this counted for much because I was enjoying the story and the writing so much. I couldn't even be bothered to slap myself upside the head when the killer's identity was revealed. What should have been obvious to me was buried beneath my delight as I turned the pages.
After finishing-- and thoroughly enjoying-- Murder at Shots Hall, I have two things to say: (1) It's a shame that Sarsfield only wrote three books. The lady had true talent. (2) I feel fortunate that I have her second mystery sitting on my shelves waiting for me.
I think I'm going to let it sit there for a while. A treat should be savored. show less
Flikka Ashley and her Aunt Bee Chattock live in Shots Hall in Sussex. Two-thirds of the manor house was destroyed by German bombs, and the two women live in what's left. Poverty is sniffing around outside the big oak door; Flik and Bee do their best to ward it off by selling an occasional bottle of vintage liquor or some of Flik's sculptures, but it's tough going. When Molly Pritchard, an old family retainer, is murdered, Arnoldson, the loathsome local show more copper, is determined to pin the deed on Flik. Fortunately Scotland Yard Inspector Lane Parry is sent to take charge. Finding the real killer is not going to be a walk in the park.
I seldom read vintage mysteries. It's a rare occurrence when the publishing date on any mystery I read is older than 1990. In many ways, I blame Nancy Drew for this. I tried reading Nancy when I was a child, but I laughed every time she donned a fresh frock and jumped into her roadster. No, my preference has almost always gone to the current crop of crime. Now that I've read Murder at Shots Hall, my preferences may need a bit of adjusting.
The author, Maureen Sarsfield, is every bit as much of a mystery as two of the three books she wrote. Her two mysteries, Murder at Shots Hall and Murder at Beechlands, feature Inspector Lane Parry of Scotland Yard. Both books were published in the late 1940s and quickly picked up by American publishers, which was unusual for that time. However, after three books, Sarsfield vanished and no one knows what happened to her.
I wish she had continued to write because this book shows real talent. Sarsfield shows a knack for setting, plot, pacing, humor, and characterization. Almost every bit of it is shown through dialogue and action-- Sarsfield does not tie bibs around our necks and spoon feed us information. I like that. A lot.
The small village is filled to the rafters with suspects because everyone's personal habits and business is common knowledge to all, and Sarsfield's skill brings them to life while Parry struggles to keep them all straight. Congreve, a police constable who's a welcome bit of comic relief, sums it up best:
"This is like driving a car along the road and every corner another passenger 'ops on board," Congreve decided cheerfully.
"All I can say is," Parry grunted, "that I hope the springs don't give way from the strain."
Does the author ever put a foot wrong? Occasionally. If I had a dollar for each time Flik is described as lovely, my next trip to the UK would be assured. The description of the loathsome local copper is a bit heavy-handed (although enjoyable in spots), and the resident doctor may be thought of as heartless unless the reader is truly paying attention. I have to admit that none of this counted for much because I was enjoying the story and the writing so much. I couldn't even be bothered to slap myself upside the head when the killer's identity was revealed. What should have been obvious to me was buried beneath my delight as I turned the pages.
After finishing-- and thoroughly enjoying-- Murder at Shots Hall, I have two things to say: (1) It's a shame that Sarsfield only wrote three books. The lady had true talent. (2) I feel fortunate that I have her second mystery sitting on my shelves waiting for me.
I think I'm going to let it sit there for a while. A treat should be savored. show less
First Line: Up in her private suite on the first floor, Mrs. Anabel Adams paced the deep red pile carpet of her sitting room, backward and forward and round and round.
Inspector Lane Parry of Scotland Yard is stranded in the middle of nowhere in a blizzard, his car having gone into a ditch in the Sussex countryside. Staggering through the snow, he manages to find refuge at Beechlands, a place that he assumes to be a mental institution from the behavior of the people out playing in the snow. show more However, it's merely a country house hotel redone in florid Rococo style by its owner, Mrs. Anabel Adams. Mrs. Adams has assembled a party of guests in honor of war hero Lawton Lawrence, but when "Lawty's" body is found in the snow, Parry finds himself on a busman's holiday. Everyone seems to have a reason to want the hero dead. Can Parry himself stay alive long enough to find the killer in the snowbound hotel?
This is the second of Sarsfield's three books that I've read, the first being Murder at Shots Hall. Sarsfield is as much of a mystery as her books, since she only wrote three, and no one knows what became of her. From the talent she showed us in these two Lane Parry mysteries, it's a shame we don't have more.
The setting of snowbound Beechlands is perfect. Although renovated in what Mrs. Adams believes to be a very tasteful (and very red) Rococo style, it is an old house with rambling hallways, doors leading everywhere, and secret passageways. The weather means that no one's able to leave, and Inspector Parry can't get anyone to come take over the investigation.
Sarsfield's main strength is in her characterizations. The cast here is particularly brilliant: the grande dame owner, the pickled war hero, a movie actress, potential investors, a couple of locals, a devoted servant, and others-- all of whom are hiding something, all of whom have possible motives for wanting Lawty dead. With the booze flowing freely, most of the cast resembles a flea circus on crack; none of them are capable of staying put, and they're constantly scuttling in and out of dark rooms on all the various floors of the hotel.
I was enjoying the setting and the antics of the characters so much that I didn't make an effort to keep a scorecard as to who may have done it. If I begin reading more vintage mysteries, it will be due to writers like Maureen Sarsfield. In my best Lawty Lawrence imitation, I raise a glass to her memory. show less
Inspector Lane Parry of Scotland Yard is stranded in the middle of nowhere in a blizzard, his car having gone into a ditch in the Sussex countryside. Staggering through the snow, he manages to find refuge at Beechlands, a place that he assumes to be a mental institution from the behavior of the people out playing in the snow. show more However, it's merely a country house hotel redone in florid Rococo style by its owner, Mrs. Anabel Adams. Mrs. Adams has assembled a party of guests in honor of war hero Lawton Lawrence, but when "Lawty's" body is found in the snow, Parry finds himself on a busman's holiday. Everyone seems to have a reason to want the hero dead. Can Parry himself stay alive long enough to find the killer in the snowbound hotel?
This is the second of Sarsfield's three books that I've read, the first being Murder at Shots Hall. Sarsfield is as much of a mystery as her books, since she only wrote three, and no one knows what became of her. From the talent she showed us in these two Lane Parry mysteries, it's a shame we don't have more.
The setting of snowbound Beechlands is perfect. Although renovated in what Mrs. Adams believes to be a very tasteful (and very red) Rococo style, it is an old house with rambling hallways, doors leading everywhere, and secret passageways. The weather means that no one's able to leave, and Inspector Parry can't get anyone to come take over the investigation.
Sarsfield's main strength is in her characterizations. The cast here is particularly brilliant: the grande dame owner, the pickled war hero, a movie actress, potential investors, a couple of locals, a devoted servant, and others-- all of whom are hiding something, all of whom have possible motives for wanting Lawty dead. With the booze flowing freely, most of the cast resembles a flea circus on crack; none of them are capable of staying put, and they're constantly scuttling in and out of dark rooms on all the various floors of the hotel.
I was enjoying the setting and the antics of the characters so much that I didn't make an effort to keep a scorecard as to who may have done it. If I begin reading more vintage mysteries, it will be due to writers like Maureen Sarsfield. In my best Lawty Lawrence imitation, I raise a glass to her memory. show less
Flikka Ashley and her aunt, Bee, live in the burned out remnants of their old family estate. They eke out a living selling Flikka’s art sculptures and the stash of fine liquors in the old family wine cellar. When old family retainers are fatally poisoned in quick succession, Flikka becomes the prime suspect. It is quite clear that Flikka is keeping secrets of some kind, but are those secrets a motive for murder? Inspector Lane Parry of Scotland Yard must deal with a lot of unpleasant and show more uncooperative villagers in order to uncover the truth.
This book is not horrible, but it does suffer from a lot of problems that keep it from being a thoroughly enjoyable reading experience.
The worst part of this book is definitely the unappealing and lecherous character of Detective Arnoldson; he is just a disgusting and completely unnecessary component of the book that detracts substantially from the ‘coziness’ of this cozy mystery.
The descriptions of Flikka Ashley are nauseating, too; she’s so exquisitely beautiful and inscrutable that all men fall instantly head over heels in love with her the second they behold her. Um, ok. (?) Flikka is also a serial bride, so she just has to end up romantically attached at the end; when the man she wants isn’t available, she just sort of settles for the nearest guy who is. That part was so ridiculous, I actually laughed derisively out loud.
The list goes on and on: the pregnant woman who incessantly drinks alcohol, the quasi-prostitute who is endlessly playing games, the jovial policeman who is constantly making jokes in a painfully irritating dialect, the murderer who is glaringly obvious even before the murders take place, the shocking secrets that aren’t really shocking at all, the rationale for the murders that is far from rational, etc. There are just a lot of things in this book that are downright annoying.
This is Maureen Sarsfield’s first attempt at mystery writing, and it certainly shows. However, her second (& final) mystery Murder at Beechlands is vastly superior. It’s unfortunate she didn’t keep up her mystery writing because there was clearly a lot of talent and potential there. show less
This book is not horrible, but it does suffer from a lot of problems that keep it from being a thoroughly enjoyable reading experience.
The worst part of this book is definitely the unappealing and lecherous character of Detective Arnoldson; he is just a disgusting and completely unnecessary component of the book that detracts substantially from the ‘coziness’ of this cozy mystery.
The descriptions of Flikka Ashley are nauseating, too; she’s so exquisitely beautiful and inscrutable that all men fall instantly head over heels in love with her the second they behold her. Um, ok. (?) Flikka is also a serial bride, so she just has to end up romantically attached at the end; when the man she wants isn’t available, she just sort of settles for the nearest guy who is. That part was so ridiculous, I actually laughed derisively out loud.
The list goes on and on: the pregnant woman who incessantly drinks alcohol, the quasi-prostitute who is endlessly playing games, the jovial policeman who is constantly making jokes in a painfully irritating dialect, the murderer who is glaringly obvious even before the murders take place, the shocking secrets that aren’t really shocking at all, the rationale for the murders that is far from rational, etc. There are just a lot of things in this book that are downright annoying.
This is Maureen Sarsfield’s first attempt at mystery writing, and it certainly shows. However, her second (& final) mystery Murder at Beechlands is vastly superior. It’s unfortunate she didn’t keep up her mystery writing because there was clearly a lot of talent and potential there. show less
Statistics
- Works
- 3
- Members
- 109
- Popularity
- #178,010
- Rating
- 3.4
- Reviews
- 6
- ISBNs
- 2