I’m a fan of mysteries particularly detective fiction by the likes of Elizabeth George, Peter Robinson, Val McDermid, Michael Connelly, Jonathan Kellerman, David Baldacci, Louise Penny, Kate Atkinson and so many more going back to P. D. James and Agatha Christie.

Death at the Savoy is rather like an Agatha Christie novel as its “plucky” protagonist , Priscilla (never Prissy) Tempest is the accidental sleuth, as well, in this case, a suspect , finding herself, quite often, in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I enjoyed Death at the Savoy not so much for a chasing of clues to find a killer but because I appreciated its lightness while wondering who among the rich, famous and aristocratic would turn up next at the Savoy. I’m thinking Ron Base and Prudence Emery would have had great fun cooking up this mystery.

Death at the Savoy: A Priscilla Tempest Mystery (Douglas & McIntyre, 2022) by Ron Base and Prudence Emery is the first in a mystery series. Ron Base is a former newspaper and magazine journalist who has written twenty novels. He divides his time between Milton, Ontario and Fort Myers, Florida. Prudence Emery is the author of Nanaimo Girl (Cormorant Books, 2020) who worked as the press and public relations officer at the Savoy Hotel in London, England from 1968 to 1973. Pru was born in Nanaimo and now lives in Victoria, B.C.

The years spent working at the Savoy Hotel are described by Prudence as “the champagne-filled years” which is also the case for the young heroine of Death at the Savoy: Priscilla Tempest. Priscilla, a Canadian, works at the Savoy Press Office, Room 205, or simply, 205. Her assistant is Susie Gore-Langton whose aristocratic family’s luck “had more or less run out.”

The Savoy sounds grand in reality as well as in the fictional version created by Ron and Prudence. At the fictional hotel, in 1968 with London “in full swing,” there are two murders; a Scotland Yard Inspector, Robert “Charger” Lightfoot, called in to investigate; a general manager, Clive Banville; and other hotel employees who may not be all that they pretend to be, and there are those famous guests.

As it’s 1968, women visiting any of the Savoy restaurants aren’t to wear trousers. Katharine Hepburn was turned away for lunch at Claridges, “one of the Savoy Group’s restaurants, because – horrors! – she was wearing her trademark trousers.”

Prudence relied on her own recollections as well as friends who had also worked at the Savoy such as Susie Grandfield who “covered” for Pru when she was press and public relations officer there.

The chapter describing the guests is wonderfully gossipy. “Elaine Stritch might show up unexpectedly.” Bob Hope is expected and Louis Armstrong and Tony Bennett would soon be back. “The Queen Mother was due for a luncheon.”

Princess Margaret figures into the mystery with the hope by the authors “that we can be forgiven for the occasional misbehaving princess . . . “

As the book opens, Priscilla has a headache from drinking champagne at the Covent Garden opening of Luciano Pavarotti’s “starring turn in Verdi’s Rigoletto.” She has attended the opera with Amir Abrahim who had been “far too frisky” and is now dead in 705.

Priscilla’s job is to keep anything that may negatively affect the reputation of the Savoy away from the press. Percy Hoskins, a reporter from the Evening Standard, gives her a call, has heard of the murder and wants to know more. The character of Percy Hoskins is “a quiet salute to an old friend, long gone.” There really was a Percy Hoskins “back in the day as Fleet Street’s ace crime reporter.”

That’s what I enjoyed the most about the book: its links to the Savoy’s history.

Noel Coward visits Priscilla at 205; he’s just back from Jamaica and wants to share a Buck’s Fizz. (Noel Coward, knighted in 1970, “the grand old man of British drama,” died in 1973 at his home in Jamaica.)

Buck’s Fizz does sound delightful from what I read on Wikipedia. It’s an alcoholic cocktail made up of sparkling wine, typically champagne, and orange juice. It’s similar to a Mimosa except Buck’s Fizz has two parts sparkling wine and one part orange juice. It’s those two parts that causes Priscilla to have some rough mornings.

As she returns home to her apartment owned by the Savoy after having two Buck’s Fizzes with Noel Coward, Priscilla meets a man outside her building who is having trouble with his MGB two-seater roadster that is overheated. Will Mark Ryde be a love interest or a man to be especially wary of?

Besides being pursued because she may know too much, Priscilla also finds herself in frightening situations through no fault of her own. When checking Bob Hope’s suite for him and given the wrong key, she is grabbed by a naked man who collapses, nearly dead, to the floor. It turns out the man is Bernard Bannister, a Tory member of parliament.

Photo: Prudence Emery

To lighten things up, Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton arrive and along with Noel Coward, Priscilla joins the celebrities for more Buck’s Fizzes.

With so much going on to keep under wraps, Priscilla is also assigned to take care of her boss’s, Mr Banville’s, mother-in-law Eunice Kerry. Eunice’s daughter Daisee is friends with Princess Margaret.

Priscilla agrees to work with Perry as she wants to clear her name due to being linked to Amir, the Egyptian arms dealer who was murdered as well as the Tory MP. More characters turn up and another dead person, this time a woman in Priscilla’s flat. You can see why she’d be a suspect in that case! References are made to “a secretive group of agents dubbed “the Walsinghams” who are “dedicated to keeping the royal family safe.”

Whether such a group exists or not, it’s such an apt name as (back to Wikipedia), Sir Francis Walsingham (c 1532 – 1590) was principal secretary to Queen Elizabeth 1 of England “and is popularly remembered as her ‘spymaster’.”

Priscilla gets roughed up by one of the bad guys, is kissed by a couple of suitors, gets to keep her job although “the management at the Savoy continues to cast a suspect eye as far as she is concerned.”

“Also, perhaps not surprisingly, Miss Tempest’s love life remains the subject of gossip and raised eyebrows.”

Prudence Emery and Ron Base are at work (and play, I imagine) at the next Priscilla Tempest Mystery: Scandal at the Savoy.

In writing about crime fiction in The Globe and Mail, Saturday, May 28, 2022 (oh yes, Daphne du Maurier and Patricia Highsmith!), David Moscrop says: “It satisfies multiple longings, from the mundane need to pass the time to the deeper necessity of self-exploration, including ventures into the darker corners of humanity. Through building and releasing tension, it provides us a chance to get in a form of mental cardiovascular exercise and some escapism, too. In the coming years, the need for each isn’t going to diminish and, indeed, is sure to grow.”

Much is said there about my reason for staying up late reading crime fiction. I loved Nancy Drew and Miss Marple and now I can have adventures with Priscilla Tempest – as well as, in her case, some much needed levity.