The Mystery of the Ruby Queens
/The Mystery of the Ruby Queens by Betsy Allen (1958) Number 12, and the last book of the Connie Blair Mystery Series, all of which have a color in their title, which I’m a sucker for. I have all the books now—and this one is supposedly hard to find—at least a nice, old, copy like I have—and even though I haven’t read them all, I went ahead and read this one—because I don’t know if I’ll get to all of them. I haven’t liked any of the books as much as the first one—they bum me out a bit, since Connie is a little conservative and a little obsessed with fashion. Here she has a cool task, though, through the ad agency where she works, making sketch samples of layers of wallpaper in an old mansion that’s being renovated. Connie lives in Philadelphia with her aunt, continuing her education and career, and seemingly looking for a man (she meets a swell guy named Happy in this book). The story takes place during the holidays, so there’s brisk air and a bit of snow. The Ruby Queens in question are some priceless ceramic figurines that have gone missing from the mansion, and even though it seems that everyone wants Connie to stay out of it, she can’t help investigating, because she’s a natural sleuth! There are some eccentric characters and, of course, some danger—once again Connie gets knocked unconscious. It’s probably a good thing she retired after this one! Also, they were running out of colors.
7.2.25