A Malevolent Connection

I’ll admit, I side-eyed the premise at first—another amateur sleuth in a bonnet? But *A Malevolent Connection* disarmed me within chapters. Messina’s Beatrice isn’t some wide-eyed ingenue stumbling into danger; she’s a woman who’s already been burned by society’s games and plays them better than the men who underestimate her. The mystery unfolds like a chess match, with Beatrice and her allies outmaneuvering a villain whose greatest strength is his ability to hide in plain sight. The real tension isn’t in action sequences (there are none) but in the creeping dread of realizing how easily power can be stripped away—through rumors, forged letters, or a single, well-placed whisper. Jill Smith’s performance elevates the material immeasurably. Her Beatrice is *funny*—not in a modern, anachronistic way, but with the kind of biting, self-aware humor that feels plucked from a Jane Austen marginalia. The men in the cast, particularly the uncle, are delivered with a silky venom that’ll make your skin crawl. My only critique? The pacing drags slightly in the middle as the plot relies heavily on Beatrice’s internal deductions, and Smith’s delivery of the more expository passages can feel a touch monotonous. Also, while the Regency setting is richly drawn, the lack of physical stakes (no chases, no fisticuffs) might frustrate listeners craving more visceral thrills. But if you’re here for a battle of wits with sky-high emotional stakes, this is a masterclass. Just don’t listen while hosting your own dinner party—you’ll start eyeing your guests suspiciously.