An Ominous Explosion

I’ll admit: I rolled my eyes at first. *Another* aristocratic sleuth? But Beatrice won me over in Chapter 2, when she dismissed a witness’s testimony with, *“His logic is as sound as a soup tureen at a bullfight.”* That’s the tone here—elegant but never stuffy, with Messina’s prose crackling like a well-stoked fire. The steam-engine accident isn’t just a MacGuffin; it’s a clever metaphor for the era’s reckless progress, and the mystery unfolds with layers: Was it sabotage? A botched insurance scheme? A lover’s revenge? The clues are sprinkled fairly, but the real joy is Beatrice’s method—she’s less about magnifying glasses and more about psychological dismantling. Smith’s performance is *almost* flawless. Her Beatrice is perfection: haughty yet warm, with a voice that could freeze a gossipmid or coax a confession. The supporting cast is less distinct—some male voices blur together, and her working-class accents occasionally veer into caricature—but it’s a minor quibble. The pacing, though, is impeccable. At 8.5 hours, it never drags, though I’d have loved a smidge more atmospheric sound design (imagine the *hiss* of steam, the *clank* of metal—missed opportunities). Still, the climax, delivered in a single breathless take, had me gripping my headphones. If you love cozies but crave something with teeth, this is your next listen. Just don’t blame me when you start side-eyeing every historical plaque about ‘accidents.’