The D. Adams style of flying requires that you throw yourself at the ground and miss!
A Kind Of Murder (2016) is a cautionary tale about your hobbies. A hobby that makes you look like you might be a murderer may lead to unfortunate consequences. In this case, the hobby is an obsession with collecting newspaper clippings about mysterious murderers in preparation for writing short stories, the hobby of successful architect Walter Stackhouse. The murder in question? The wife of Marty Kimell, an antique book dealer in town, turns up dead at a long distance route bus stop. Kimell has strenuously denied responsibility, and the case is at a stop.
Then Stackhouse’s wife, the troubled Clara, discovers Stackhouse with a younger woman, Ellie, and that pushes her over the edge. She decides to travel to see her sickly mother, seeking stability.
Via bus.
Her murder, body at the same bus stop as that of Kimell’s wife’s murder, is assigned to the same detective working the case of Kimell’s wife; his discovery that Stackhouse had recently visited Kimell’s shop leaves the two husbands more than a bit jittery.
Toss in a bit of 1950s vibe and police aggression, and the whole structure threatens to come crashing down. Who’s innocent? Who’s guilty? The tension ratchets up as Stackhouse discovers Ellie’s unease at the death of the woman she may have been trying to displace. Could she … ? And what sort of reverberation comes from compressed guilt?
It’s not a classic, but it’s a competent telling of a sordid and cautionary story that will appeal to the crime story fan. Don’t forget the popcorn.
