A Lady Darriby-Jones Mystery

England, 1926. Just days before Lord Darriby-Jones is scheduled to enlighten the world at the Annual Limacology Symposium, his secretary unceremoniously bids adieu to her employment. It's now up to Lady Darriby-Jones to find a replacement. In a twist of fate, she stumbles upon a commoner from a neighboring town willing to accept the role, despite the slug-dismantling duties that await him. He's positively thrilled at the chance to rub elbows with true aristocrats, even if his job involves less glamorous endeavors.

When an American party of intellectuals, who boast of knowledge of a rare slug species, ask Lady Darriby-Jones to stay at Darriby Hall, she hesitantly agrees. She is in for a rude awakening when one of them is found dead with a gunshot wound. She thought it would be a matter that might be swept under the carpet until she's identified as a suspect. It leads her to wonder:Who's the trigger-happy culprit? When did they turn into a slug-slayer? How on earth did they pull off this shocking slug-icide? And . . . Why, oh why, would anyone shoot a slug savant?

On a frigid winter's night, Lady Darriby-Jones is roused from her daydreaming by an unexpected late-night visitor, a familiar yet vexing presence known for annual visits to the Darriby estate. She invites him in, leaving his care to her butler. Little does she know that this decision will lead to a grim discovery. In the early light of day, a shrill cry pierces the serenity, unveiling a most unwelcome gift of the season: the uninvited guest lies lifeless.

When Lady Darriby-Jones sees off her husband's nephew at the train station, she considers her good deed for the day complete. Rewarding herself with a day of shopping in the city, she revels in the anticipated tranquility of her return to the Darriby estate. However, her satisfaction shatters upon receiving a distressing message upon her return—Freddie never reached his destination. With a sinking feeling, Lady Darriby-Jones embarks on a journey up north, determined to unravel this mystery. As she delves into the disappearance, the plot thickens with the discovery of a lifeless body.

When Lady Darriby-Jones encounters a roadblock on her quest to reclaim her beloved Rolls-Royce, she dismisses it as another molehill magnified by the local constabulary into a mountainous mess. Little does she know, the kerfuffle involves more than a traffic hiccup—it's a symphony of chaos orchestrated by the untimely demise of her dodgy yet reliable mechanic. Her mechanic may not have been a choir boy, but a dead one?

Lady Darriby-Jones, ever the gracious hostess, welcomes an eclectic mix of aristocrats, eccentrics, and an unexpected scandal or two to her stately home each year at the most wonderful time of the year. This year, the festive mood is shattered when one of her guests is found dead amidst the Christmas crackers and mince pies. Enter DCI "Rude" Manners, a police chief whose investigative methods are as clumsy as a three-legged reindeer. His theory? Arrest the first suspect he stumbles upon and call it a day. But Lady Darriby-Jones knows her guests—and her reputation—demand more than that.