Murder on the S.S. Cleopatra

I’ll admit, I rolled my eyes at first when I saw *another* 1920s murder-on-a-boat setup. But Rosett subverts expectations from the first chapter, where Blix Windway isn’t introduced mid-swoon over a dashing archaeologist or clutching a fainting victim—she’s haggling with a Cairo street vendor over fake scarabs, and her sharp eye for detail isn’t about solving crimes (yet) but avoiding tourist traps. That’s the kind of specificity that makes this audiobook sing. The murder itself is cleverly plotted, with a victim whose backstory unfolds in drips that feel organic, not like exposition dumps. I particularly loved how Rosett uses the confined space of the steamer to ratchet up tension; the Nile’s vastness becomes a cruel joke when Blix realizes the killer is *right there*, passing the sugar at breakfast. Klett’s performance is a masterclass in restraint. She resists the urge to ham up the accents (a pet peeve of mine in historical audiobooks) and instead lets the characters’ personalities shine through subtle vocal tics—a clipped British consul, a Frenchwoman whose vowels grow tighter with every lie. My only critique? The pacing drags slightly in the middle during a flashback-heavy stretch where the mystery’s momentum stalls. And while the ending is satisfying, one reveal relies a bit too heavily on a character’s sudden, uncharacteristic honesty. Still, the audiobook’s strengths far outweigh these quibbles. It’s the rare cozy mystery that feels both *cozy* and *sharp*, like a paring knife wrapped in cashmere. If you’re craving a historical whodunit with a protagonist who’s as quick with a quip as she is with a clue, this is your next listen—just don’t blame me if you start Googling Nile steamship routes afterward.