#1226: Minor Felonies – Montgomery Bonbon: Mystery at the Manor (2024) by Alasdair Beckett-King [ill. Claire Powell]

A third entry in the delightfully silly Montgomery Bonbon series, from the mind of the equally delightfully silly Alasdair Beckett-King, Mystery at the Manor (2024) is…delightfully silly.

You get a sense of what you’re in for early on, when world’s greatest detective Montgomery Bonbon — in reality, 10 year-old Bonnie Montgomery wearing a false moustache and sporting an accent best described as pan-European in origin — is entrusted to take a mysterious package out to the isolated Adderstone Manor because “half of Widdlington was suffering from serious bum trouble, owing to a batch of bad gravy at the lord mayor’s birthday party”. The house is now owned by Fergus Croke, “a right wrong ‘un” who has made his money in immoral ways and now wants to settle down and enjoy his retirement in the country. Someone, however, has other plans…

Croke, see, is playing host to three accomplices whose criminous talents he had deigned to work with in his previous life: explosions expert Naomi Igarashi, lockpick Frankie Novak, and dashing thief Daniel Devant (“He’ll steal your heart — and your wallet.”). One of these three will, apparently, inherit the fabulously valuable Adderstone Diamond upon Fergus’ death, and so no-one is to be too surprised when Fergus croaks and only one of these three can be guilty…except all three of them were in Bonbon’s company at the time of the murder.

One does not read the Montgomery Bonbon books for a serious examination of the role of crime in society, I’ve eventually come to realise, and so that much of what follows is chaotic in that early-90s-chidlhood cartoon way is hardly a surprise. Things explode, everyone stalks around the mansion following obscure riddles that Croke left behind him, and a chapter entitled ‘Murder in the Monkey House’ begins with a parenthetical reminder that you must act surprised when someone is found murdered in the monkey house. The funny lines come thick and fast (the perma-tanned Croke is told early on “You’ve never given anyone anything, except second-hand sunburn.”), no-one notices that the middle-aged Bonbon is a pre-teen girl with synthetic facial hair…it’s the best kind of nonsense possible.

Beckett-King is, however, also very good at the occasional tight description to show that he’s putting some effort into making these books more than just lightly boisterous…

Frankie turned back to Bonnie with a smile like a shard of glass.

…and he genuinely does want you to come along with the mystery and follow the hints towards the solution. You won’t solve the apparently impossible murder, but the other indicators are liberal, fair, and enjoyably sprinkled, if slightly thinner on the ground than in earlier books. Indeed, there’s a sense of, for want of a better word, space in the narrative, like there might have been another character in this, one who got taken out in the third or fourth draft, whose presence and added complications might have been making it a little too complex for the target audience. But the upshot is that you’re given more space to enjoy Bonnie’s various interactions with people — one such person would, I feel, be a spoiler to name in this review, so I’ll just hint vague in the manner already demonstrated — and the characters really are delightful to spend time with.

As always, it’s impossible to talk about this series without giving huge credit to the sheer energy and creativity of Claire Powell’s illustration. Not only do they help clarify some rather key concepts of layout and execution for young readers, they provide some light relief for older ones, too, such as the revelation of the solicitors’ company name or the Shakespeare joke…which I’m amazed I’ve never seen made before. Powell’s work feeds Beckett-King’s ebullience, and enables some clever mood-setting, such as the opening of chapter 7, which — taking place at night — is relayed through white text on dark backgrounds, with suitably muted illustration alongside.

You’ll remember Mystery at the Manor for its creative jokes, clever use of language, and blisteringly fast pace (I read it in a day…less of a boast when you realise it’s aimed at 8 to 12 year-olds). It amazes me that Beckett-King and Powell have been able to maintain the high-concept core of this so well over this opening trilogy, but then the serious conviction which with they take to their tomfoolery doubtless crushes many of the objections you might have before it. A fourth book has already been announced, and I’ll be at the front of the queue for that next year — can’t come soon enough.

The Montgomery Bonbon series by Alasdair Beckett-King