Angela Pewsey had sung her last song. At 3.30 one fine afternoon, a small blow to the back of the head cut her off in mid-note and a grateful village breathed a sigh of relief. Aside from an outraged music lover, who would have wished the middle-aged spinster permanently silenced? Actually, who wouldn’t have?!

Until her final breath, the vicious, prying snoop had meticulously collected bits and pieces of other people’s lives, from scraps of conversation, pilfered correspondence or outright spying. Angela Pewsey knew something about everyone in the village of Inching Round . . . and everything about some folks. In gloating, threatening letters, she let them know their secrets were no longer safe . . . and those poison-pen letters spelled an invitation to murder.

The Voice of the Corpse (1948) is an outstanding example of post-Second World War mystery which combines excellent dialogue, fine characterisation and pervasive irony in a gripping tale of suspense.