Another Choose Your Own Adventure-style mystery from an established novelist, Murder at Christmas (2025) by G.B. Rubin being the work of Gareth Rubin, who recently published Sherlock Holmes novel Holmes and Moriarty (2024). And this one’s Christmas-themed! So let’s dive in…

In Rubin’s book, you are Kinn Tenor — so very nearly an anagram of ‘non-thinker’ — “police pathologist and brilliant amateur sleuth who often shows up the boys in blue”. Tenor so completely fulfils every expectation of the Amateur Detective that at times he almost feels like a parody…

Truth be told, it isn’t always easy working for the police. Many of them are a bit suspicious — or outright contemptuous — of you. And they only get worse when you show them up by noticing the details they have missed. Still, you take the rough with the smooth. And a certain degree of amusing fame has come with the territory.

…complete with old school chums, a knowledge of obscure neckties, and an upper class family (“The Duke and Duchess of Aston weren’t too over the moon about their only child going into medicine…”). But the cases here are serious enough, even if it might have been fun to see something with its tongue a little more in its cheek, and so it is to be assumed that Rubin is just laying it on thick so that there’s no doubt we’re taking the part of a Level 4 Amateur Detective.

The book opens two days before Christmas, and you are in your Piccadilly office, reflecting on how at Christmastime “the criminal fraternity of the great metropolis usually throws an intriguing case your way too, just to add to the seasonal festivity”. And, with plans to head out to Hurley Court in Kent, where some poison pen letters have been causing a stir, it’s surely only a matter of time before something interesting happens. And then you meet Melissa Thresh, who is convinced someone is trying to kill her…

I really like that the book’s first choice is for you to pick between these two cases, meaning that you can read it at least twice; for some reason, even a tiny little touch that that made it more appealing right away. As I chose to go with the (potentially invented) threat to Melissa’s life, let’s look through that first.

In this case, you join Melissa, her husband, and a few associates — including Melissa’s ex-Nanny, a professional footballer and his wife, and a Greek couple of uncertain provenance — on a train ride to York for a few hours of frivolity, before taking the train to Harrogate for reasons that I’m not entirely clear on. It’s true that the initial stages of this case don’t involve anything in the way of choices — you go from section 34 to 58 to 126 to 64 to 127 to 95 to 111 to 2 before you get to make a second choice in proceedings — but in a way this works to the advantage of this CYOA setup when compared to the previous one I read, in that the narrative has about it a little more (well, a lot more) personality than experienced previously:

You reach The Shambles, a picturesque twist of lanes lined with market stalls and drinking halls, which was once the butchery centre of York — these gutters once ran red with blood, not with the crystal-clear water of melted snow.

The characters feel more distinct here, too, with some good introductory scenes and a few moments of wry humour to distinguish them:

“I sometimes wonder where he went. The bloke I married.”

“Still in there somewhere?”

“If so, he’s a bloody champion at hide and seek.”

Once you’re back on the train, murder is done and various decisions must be made about how to handle things. And then the professional police come into things, and you, Dr. Tenor, must be able to accuse the guilty party ahead of Inspector Reeves or else your standing as a genius amateur might be at stake. Of course, if you choose the wrong party, it’s all over for you…

I’m pleased to announce that in the pursuit of this investigation I was variously dumped into a river and drowned (twice), poisoned (twice), and caught pneumonia and was hospitalised while the police solved the case without me. I also accused two of the wrong people in the final confrontation, but, if I’m honest, I’m not sure that what’s supposed to be key, telling information to allow you to settle on the correct malefactor is all that readily available. A quick browse reveals that there is an ending where they shoot you in the heart before you get to the accusation stage, so I suppose that would be something of a telling clue when you restart the case, but, what the hell, it’s fun doing these things, and getting it wrong is, it turns out, possibly more enjoyable than being the infallible sleuth of lore. There’s a perverse pleasure in knowing you’ve been dumped into a river and all your careful reason has been for aught.

Still, we got there in the end; besides, it’s value for money to go a bit wrong in these endeavours, right?

And so to Hurley Court, where you get to make your first decision much sooner, not that it seems to impact events much, and again you’re then led by the hand from section to section. A little more choice would be nice, but I also understand the need to cover the bases from a plotting perspective. The problem this time around involves your friend Algy Hurley and his family, to who poison pen letters being sent containing vague, mildly threatening messages (“‘You will get your comeuppance.’ ‘Cheats never prosper. You should have learned that in school.’ ‘Death awaits.’ ‘Do you think you are safe? Think again.’ ‘You can’t hide your deeds for ever.’”), and, again, there’s a good dose of humour at times:

“I have no idea what [the letter writer]’s talking about. Unless it’s that time I stole a handful of sweets from the village shop.”

You consider this briefly. “I doubt it, Algy. Nicking a shilling’s worth of sweets when you’re a nipper doesn’t sound like the sort of thing our friend has in mind.”

“It was last month.”

Before long, you’re engaged in a family tradition not unlike ‘The Musgrave Ritual’ (1893), the lights go out, there’s a scuffle and a shout of pain…and murder has been attempted. Whodunnit? Any one of the family gathered in the dark room, of course.

The choices this time feel less consequential, it must be said, though it enables some good family history with the story of ‘Bloody Thomas’ Hurley adding some eerie edges to this snowbound, Old, Dark House mystery. Rubin keeps a nice line of humour ticking along (the line about spaniels is very good), and there’s some superbly atmospheric writing (“Fire and frost vie for dominance but they can only dance around each other.”).

This time around — perhaps I’m just more comfortable in a Country House Mystery — I made it all the way to the accusation stage without perishing or embarrassing myself (a quick browse revealed early endings involving your getting arrested for murder, bleeding to death in the snow, having your neck broken by the killer, stumbling to your death down a dark stairwell, and being arrested for drunk and disorderly conduct — quite the range!). I even picked the right killer this time! Though I’d need convincing that this is 100% fair, but this second case certainly feels more gettable than the first, so either Rubin did a better job here or I’m learning to accept the standards of proof in this style of ‘how the hell do I know what you’ve seen and done?’ mystery. Whatever the reason, I thoroughly enjoyed myself, I really did.

~

All told, this is a fun time that does exactly what it sets out to, providing a chance for you to cudgel your brains in the pursuit of justice. Rubin’s prose is very easy to read — though he drops the occasional odd verb that rather sticks out, like “toddle” and “plonk” — and some era-appropriate considerations are neatly sprinkled throughout, like considering that one of the suspects might not display much emotion at the sight of a corpse because he might have “[seen] bodies during the war”, or that the scars these men carried back from their various international conflicts aren’t really understood by the succeeding generation.

It’s true that this is a rather more straightforward affair than Can You Solve the Murder? (2025) by Antony Johnston, but that’s not necessarily to its detriment. Where Johnston’s case had you picking up alphanumeric clues along the way to help inform some of your later choices, Rubin’s is really more a case ‘Choose Between A and B’ and then off you go without the need to keep track of anything that came before. And, hey, both work, but if you’re after a more elaborate time then you should definitely opt for Johnston’s book over this one. But this one has two cases…so, better value for money? Honestly, you can’t really go wrong either way.

Whatever you choose, I’m absolutely not done with these murder mystery CYOA books. They hold a fascination for me that I find difficult to put into words, not least because of the different styles of telling and guiding that have been adopted in the two I’ve read to date — each with its own merits, and hinting at many possibilities still available. Maybe I’ll get to Ace Attorney yet! If you, dear reader, have encountered any other CYOA mysteries and are able to recommend some good ones, please tell me in the comments and I’ll add them to my list.