My rating: 3 of 5 stars
For me, 1970s Agatha Christie is just not as good as 1930s-50s Agatha Christie. Since I was alive in the 70s, the romance of the era is gone. Christie's books are much more fun when they are also describing a world that no longer exists.
This one is kind of a shattered cozy; limited set of characters but not limited enough. Limited locations but not limited enough. Miss Marple is front-and-center finally, but I found myself actually wishing she was back in St. Mary Mead being visited by flummoxed investigators and dispensing seemingly non-sequitur wisdom.
But I do admire her pluck. When I am old, I shall wear a pink shawl and call myself "Nemesis."
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