This is a classic example of mysteries written during the Golden Age of Detective Fiction (1920s/30s), with a simple plot, a limited cast of suspects, an amateur detective, and a solution that relies heavily on timetables, method, and misdirection.

Our meek but likeable sleuth, Mr. Chitterwick, believes himself to have witnessed a murder ... but did he really see what he thought he saw? At the request of the prime suspect's desperate wife, Mr. Chitterwick reluctantly agrees to investigate the case, assisted by a disarmingly charming young aristocrat whose automobile possesses the convenient property of being able to whisk the both of them from the family's country seat to London in less than three hours - something they must do repeatedly in order to recreate the crime, interrogate witnesses, and check in with perhaps the world's most amiable and cooperative Scotland Yard detective.

Berkeley's prose is brisk and quite witty. I often found myself smiling, and sometimes laughing aloud. True, there's no attempt at character development here, but would be unfair to hold that against the author since character development wasn't an expectation of the genre at that time. However, I *will* ding the author for a plot that is over-reliant on coincidence. To be fair, Berkeley absolutely abides by the golden rule of Golden Age Mysteries: "thou shalt provide all the clues necessary for the reader to solve the crime." The twist ending, when it comes, aligns with the evidence and is certainly twisty, but predicated on events and circumstances that strain credulity.

In summary, found this to be a pleasant period read that checks all the "Golden Age" boxes without offering anything new or especially memorable. ( )

Golden Age mysteries are usually plot-driven and The Piccadilly Murder is no exception. Berkeley writes a mystery full of red herrings, disguises, split-second timing, and eccentric characters. His detective is a prissy and mild gentleman who lives with his aunt on the remains of the family estate, a Jacobean dower house on six acres in Chiswick! The aunt sounds like an escapee from a Sheridan farce. She has a world-class collection of moss.

By sheer chance Ambrose Chitterwick witnesses a murder in the lounge at the Piccadilly Hotel. Since he is an amateur criminologist (and stamp collector) and has had practical experience solving the murder in The Poisoned Chocolate Case, he immediately recognizes the signs of poisoning and calls Scotland Yard. Even though he has no official status and is the prime witness, he is is given access to police evidence.

The victim, Miss Sinclair, has been quarreling with her nephew and since Mr Chitterwick saw the nephew put the poison in his aunt's drink, the case appears a simple one of murder. However, the suspect Major Sinclair has a wife and some powerful friends who refuse to accept his guilt. They appeal to Mr Chitterwick to examine his account and see if there are any oddities which could cast doubt on what he saw.

Mr Chitterwick cautiously sets out to disprove what his eyes saw and to find another suspect. He is aided by the suspect's wife Judy Sinclair and her friend Mouse who is actually Duke of .... They chase down clues, check timetables, and, in the end, uncover more than one plot against the murder victim..

Although the solution is telegraphed fairly early in the book to any readers of puzzle mysteries, Berkeley writes with charm and a sense of fun. Lady Chitterwick mulling over her moss collection; no one, except the police, having to work for a living; characters like Jimmy the Rube; and some laugh-out-loud dialogue:

"That matter of the photographs quite settles it."

"Nippy bit of work, that."

"Very nippy," agreed Mr. Chitterwick ruefully. He had been caught napping by that very nippiness.

Any Golden Age mystery fans will enjoy this novel. ( )