This delightful installment earns a solid four cozy stars.
Wiggins, Inspector Witherspoon’s ever-cheerful footman, steps out to the Lighterman’s Ball in place of his mate Tommy. Tommy’s sister desperately wants to attend, so Wiggins happily pinch-hits. Among the guests looms Stephen Bremmer—a lazy, half-literate toff whom nearly everyone loves to hate. He doesn’t mind. He only showed up because the host just offered him a cushy seat on the company’s board.
The evening’s big moment arrives: lights dim for the traditional toast to departed colleagues. Darkness lasts mere seconds—just long enough for someone to slip arsenic into Bremmer’s glass. As the chandeliers flare back to life, he drains his drink, staggers, and collapses. Guests assume a stroke. Dr. Bosworth, police surgeon and dear friend to the Witherspoon household, rushes forward, but Bremmer is already gone.
Lucky for justice, Wiggins stands witness. He bolts home and spills every detail to the eager staff. Mrs. Jeffries, Mrs. Goodge, Betsy, Smythe, Phyllis, and the rest dive in with their usual brilliance. They coax secrets from maids, porters, and delivery boys—the very people Scotland Yard overlooks—until the clues point straight to the killer.
I can’t quite pinpoint why this volume hit me harder than the others, but Emily Brightwell’s prose sang to me this time. Something about the rhythm, the little grace notes, the way she lets her characters breathe—it all clicked. Keep an eye on housemaid Phyllis and our Wiggins, though. The glances, the blushes, the perfectly timed cups of tea… dare we hope for a slow-burn romance? At this rate, if the series runs a few more years, Betsy’s little Amanda will toddle in and crack the next case herself.
Four stars, a warm blanket, and a second cuppa—highly recommended.