Shortly after my dad died, I went on a Christie kick, re-reading several of my favorites. Around the same time, my mom decided that she wanted to read the books in publication order, and I realized that I had lost several books over the years. Some may have been loaned out and never returned, but I think most of my lost books were soaked when I had them stacked under a wall AC unit which had a towel under it to block warm air. A thunderstorm soaked the towel and I came home to several irreparably soggy paperbacks. Naturally, I went to my favorite used book sources to start filling in the gaps.
One of those new/old books is The Secret of Chimneys. I know I read it in high school, and I'm pretty sure I read it about the same time I read The Seven Dials Mystery. I didn't remember anything else, other than it was enjoyable. More than 30 years later, it's a lightweight wannabe spy novel with engaging characters and plenty of banter. Anthony Cade, an impoverished and somewhat rakish aristocrat, is shepherding a tour group through archaeological sites when an old friend asks him to deliver the memoirs of a deposed and deceased Hertzoslovakian diplomat to a London publisher. Murders, theft, a beautiful widow, and an Earl's plucky daughter ensue, with the solution coming through maybe a little more coincidence than the average reader should expect. It's a natural successor to The Secret Adversary, with plenty of action and slightly more believable characters. It's her fifth novel, and Christie hadn't quite hit her stride yet, enjoyable but not overly memorable.
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