Other editions of book Busman's Honeymoon

Mr. Mervyn Bunter, patiently seated in the Daimler on the far side of Regent’s Park, reflected that time was getting on. Packed in eiderdowns in the back of the car was a case containing two and a half dozen of vintage port, and he was anxious about it. Great speed would render the wine undrinkable for a fortnight; excessive speed would render it undrinkable for six months. He was anxious about the arrangements–or the lack of them–at Talboys. He hoped everything would be found in good order when they arrived–otherwise, his lady and gentleman might get nothing to eat till goodness knew when.

Society's eligible women are in mourning. Lord Peter Wimsey has married at last, having finally succeeded in his ardent pursuit of the lovely mystery novelist Harriet Vane. The two depart for a tranquil honeymoon in a country farmhouse but find, instead of a well-prepared love nest, the place left in a shambles by the previous owner. His sudden appearance, dead from a broken skull in the cellar, only prompts more questions. Why would anyone have wanted to kill old Mr. Noakes? What dark secrets had he to hide? The honeymoon is over, as Lord Peter and Harriet Vane start their investigations. Suspicion is rife, and everyone seems to have something to hide, from the local constable to the housekeeper. Wimsey and his wife can think of plenty of theories, but it's not until they discover a vital fact that the identity of the murderer becomes clear.

Mr. Mervyn Bunter, patiently seated in the Daimler on the far side of Regent’s Park, reflected that time was getting on. Packed in eiderdowns in the back of the car was a case containing two and a half dozen of vintage port, and he was anxious about it. Great speed would render the wine undrinkable for a fortnight; excessive speed would render it undrinkable for six months. He was anxious about the arrangements–or the lack of them–at Talboys. He hoped everything would be found in good order when they arrived–otherwise, his lady and gentleman might get nothing to eat till goodness knew when. True, he had brought ample supplies from Fortnum’s, but suppose there were no knives or forks or plates available?