Ahhh, prussic acid, that hallmark of classic Golden Age mysteries. Did lovely Cara Quoyne get a whiff of the bitter almonds as she raised the goblet to her lips? We'll never know: With a single sip she transported herself to the Hereafter.
 
At least, that's the romantic view. But Inspector Alleyn has little interest in romance; he's investigating a murder. Cara was a deeply spiritual young woman, a novice with the House of the Sacred Flame. It seems, however, that somebody was operating from very un-spiritual motivations.

Inspector Roderick Alleyn has to date confined his investigations to England, but Vintage Murder finds him journeying to New Zealand (Ngaio Marsh's homeland). Traveling with Alleyn are the members of the Carolyn Dacres English Comedy Company.  The actors' operatic intrigues offer an amusing diversion until, unexpectedly, they turn deadly. And Alleyn learns – not for the last time – that while he may be able to leave his badge back in Blighty, he's still a policeman, even on the other side of the world.

Ngaio Marsh was one of the queens (she has been called the empress) of England's Golden Age of mystery fiction. And in true Golden Age fashion, her oeuvre opens with, yes, a country-house party between the two world wars – servants bustling, gin flowing, the gentlemen in dinner jackets, the ladies all slink and smolder. Even more delicious: The host, Sir Hubert Handesley, has invented a new and especially exciting version of that beloved parlor entertainment, The Murder Game.

For one unlucky Member of Parliament, a simple visit to the hospital (the “nursing home” of the title) proves fatal. But as Inspector Alleyn will discover, any number of people had reason to help the gentleman to his just reward, including the sour surgeon, his besotted nurse, a resentful wife, and a cabinet full of political rivals.