The Best Amateur Detective Novels

Why do amateur detectives make such entertaining protagonists of mystery novels?

I think the primary trait of the amateur detective is that they are in some way relatable. They have to have just enough of the everyday about them so that we can root for them as they step up to the demands of the investigation. In most cases, they have to exhibit more wit and audacity than the professionals in order to gain access to all areas or hunt down the information they need.

This being said, they will often have a skill, aptitude, or even a job that takes them outside the realms of the commonplace. And unlike the professionals, the need to investigate isn’t their job in the first place, so it often feels personal, motivated by a need to set right a wrong, or unravel a compelling problem.

The grizzled police detective is a stock character—and for good reason—but amateur detectives tend to be more varied in temperament and demographic. Is that part of the appeal? 

Absolutely. I feel where the demographic of a professional can be limited, the amateur detective can become far more inclusive. Miss Marple is a great example of this, an older woman who could not have been part of the police force, yet confronts expectations regarding gender and age, sometimes leaning into people’s propensity to underestimate her in order to gather information. It’s a case of underestimate Miss Marple at your own peril.

Yes, shall we start with Agatha Christie’s The Body in the Library? Can you talk us through the premise, and why you like it?

Jane Marple is called upon by her old friend Dolly Bantry to investigate the seemingly random appearance of a corpse in the library of Mrs Bantry’s home, Gossington Hall. The body is of a young woman wearing evening dress and heavy make-up. When a second body is found in an abandoned quarry, Miss Marple must fathom the connection and restore the Bantry family to their former respectability.

“This flavour of crime speaks to our need for resolution and neat endings during difficult and uncertain times”

This is a great example of classic Golden Age detective fiction. It’s a finely calibrated puzzle, and without giving any spoilers, Miss Marple prevails — she is not the only detective in this book but certainly runs rings around the others. Bringing violent crime into the heart of a genteel English village raises questions about what goes on under the veneer of respectability.

Why do you think Miss Marple became such a popular protagonist—what is it about her specifically, or the series more generally, that caught the public’s attention?

There is something wonderful about a character who, on the surface, is unassuming and fairly powerless, even irrelevant in society, having a steel-trap mind and cutting observational intelligence. I think Miss Marple’s popularity and longevity come from this interesting exploration about surface appearance and what lies beneath, which ultimately is central to every crime novel. The pairing of a harmless, gentle character with a shrewd eye and open mind when it comes to the darker side of human behaviour is inspired. The real magic lies in her ability to pay attention and notice, as much as the fact that she draws on a lifetime of experience and fascination with other people.

Next you’ve chosen to recommend A Morbid Taste for Bones by Ellis Peters, which is the first book in ‘The Cadfael Chronicles’, a series of historical murder mystery novels. Would you introduce it to our readers?

This first Cadfael story is set in May 1137, when the ambitious prior of Benedictine Shrewsbury Abbey is looking for relics to increase the community’s prestige. His ultimate plan is to supplant the current mild-mannered abbot. Brother Cadfael, Welsh by birth, is sent to procure a relic, the remains of Saint Winfred, from their resting place near the village of Gwytherin.

This plan is received with some opposition. When the main protester against the sale of the bones is shot dead with an arrow, Cadfael investigates. Finding the killer and the motive behind this murder is complicated.

What makes Brother Cadfael an interesting lead character?

For me, it’s his acute power of observation and how he uses this skill to deduce who the killer might be and set a trap. Set against a backdrop of clerical ambition and deceit, Cadfael is the perfect protagonist. He is driven by his own moral compass and has great humanity and compassion, and will disregard orders if they don’t align.

Your own novel, Murder at Gull’s Nest, features a former nun in the role of the amateur detective. Do you see parallels?

The main parallel is that, like Nora Breen, my former nun, Cadfael has his own demons. Both characters have also lived in the world prior to monastic life. I think this lends them greater complexity as amateur detectives in that their eyes are open to human behaviours of a more worldly nature, but they are still applying a degree of spiritual introspection.

The major difference is that Nora has left her order and is going through a crisis of faith.

How did you settle on her character?

There were several sources of inspiration for the character of Nora Breen. The idea of writing a former religious sister came from my childhood. I was brought up in a big, wild, London-Irish family and taught by a former nun. I was intrigued by her story, in terms of why she joined a religious order and then why she left it, but I was never brave enough to ask her about it. Many nuns, real and fictional, have crossed my path, and I’ve long had a fascination for people who live a monastic life.

Nora has been propelled back into the world, after three decades in a monastery, by this mystery. The world has changed, and she sees everything anew. I wanted this defamiliarised point of view so that we can experience her attempts to adapt to this new life alongside her.

In writing Nora, I wanted to explore how the traits that might not endear her to her mother superior might prove useful in her new role of amateur detective. She’s questioning, curious, wilful. But she has also learnt to live in community, so she brings patience, tenacity, compassion to bear in her investigations.

Shall we talk about Nita Prose’s novel The Maid next? It features a 25-year-old chambermaid in the role of amateur detective. Tell us more.

Molly Gray works as a maid at the Regency Grand Hotel in an unnamed city in the U.S. She has a profound love for order and cleanliness and takes pride in her work and comfort in restoring order. She also has the propensity to take things literally, and social interactions can be challenging. After the death of her grandmother, who raised her, Molly finds herself even more isolated. During the course of her work, Molly finds a guest murdered in the penthouse suite. Through a series of misadventures, she finds herself framed for his murder.

I have a late diagnosis of autism, and so found the portrayal of some of Molly’s traits, which could be perceived as neurodivergent, interesting with regards to the challenges which could land her in difficulties, but also the strengths she brings to bear to try and discover the truth of the matter.

I think a lot of amateur detective novels fall into the genre of ‘cosy crime’—would you agree?—and The Maid is no different. Why do so many people find stories about murders comforting?

I find the term ‘cosy crime’ problematic. Whilst it does seem to encapsulate a type of crime novel that might tend towards nostalgia and have many of the ingredients of Golden Age fiction—core puzzle, amateur sleuth, genteel settings—it’s not a label Agatha Christie would have used. Personally, I find it reductive in that ‘cosy’ describes what it’s not, i.e. police procedural or psychological thriller. In this sense, ‘cosy’ means ‘not gritty.’ Perhaps in some cases, the term ‘cosy’ could be substituted by ‘comforting.’

The Maid, along with many other crime novels featuring an amateur detective, essentially posit two fundamental thoughts. Firstly, death is a puzzle we can solve. Secondly, amateur detectives are restorers of order. Whether they subvert or uphold these thoughts is another matter. Ultimately, this flavour of crime may just speak to our need for resolution and neat endings during difficult and uncertain times.

The next amateur detective novel you’ve chosen to recommend is Ambrose Parry’s The Way of All Flesh, from the ‘Raven and Fisher’ series. Can you introduce us?

It’s Edinburgh, 1847. Will Raven, medical student and apprentice to the illustrious James Simpson, has a terrible secret. On finding his friend dead, he panicked and fled the scene of an apparent crime. When further bodies are found, Raven begins to investigate with the help of Sarah Fisher, housemaid for the Simpson family.

Would you describe Raven and Fisher as ‘an odd couple’? What’s their relationship?

I think that is a good description. They definitely have to learn to work together, but I think every amateur detective duo has some friction. In this novel, much of that is provided by the fact that Fisher is as smart as Raven but has had none of his opportunities due to her class and gender.

I’m intrigued by your final choice – Nicola Upson’s Dear Little Corpses. Why do you recommend it? It features the crime novelist Josephine Tey, who was a real-life author who died in 1952. What’s the relationship between the two?

The novel is set in September 1939, when mass evacuation begins to take place across the UK, and for me it captures the fear and uncertainty of the early days of World War II very vividly. In a small Suffolk village, the organised chaos of shepherding the evacuees to their allocated homes descends into terror when it is discovered that one of the children has disappeared. Crime novelist Josephine Tey arrives in the village to help her friend DCI Penrose investigate the child’s disappearance.

I was intrigued by the way Upson blends fact and fiction in this novel. Josephine Tey was elusive, and little is known about her private life, but this reimagining builds a complex and likeable protagonist. Margery Allingham, another Golden Age crime writer, also makes an appearance. It’s an evocative read with regards to place and time, which calibrates very well mistrust and suspicion in a small community.

Your own Murder at Gull’s Nest is set in the 1950s. What prompted you to choose this setting?

It’s set in 1953, in the shadow of World War II, when people were trying to rebuild their lives. This was a time of changing gender roles when the old order was gradually changing. I have previously written historical fiction set as far back as 1629, but with this time period, I really enjoyed being able to use photographs in my research. I’m a visual writer, so having pictures of the Kent coast at this time was really evocative. This was the heyday of the British seaside holiday, a time of interesting tensions between post-war austerity and the hope of better days to come, when everyday rules were relaxed, but not too much. Gulls Nest is a boarding house which brings together characters from different backgrounds, some trying to reinvent themselves. In a sense, they are flotsam and jetsam – who has washed up here out of season?

Is it as fun to write mystery books as it is to read them?

It’s challenging and requires careful plotting. Murder at Gulls Nest is the first book in a series, whereas my previous novels have been standalone. So, I think what is really enjoyable for me is creating a time, place and cast of characters that I want to return to again and again. I’ve just finished the first draft of Murder at the Spirit Lounge, the second book in the series, and it’s been an absolute joy to return to Gore-on-Sea.