The Convivial Codfish is the holiday contribution to MacLeod’s Sarah Kelling series. This series focuses on different members of an old money Boston family, in this case, Sarah’s Uncle Jem, an affirmed bachelor who refuses to acknowledge that the oat-sowing days of his youth are long gone.

Jeb is a member of a club of immature elderly men who enliven their days with practical jokes that the mostly play on each other in a passive-aggressive way, the Comrades of Convivial Codfish¹. As the fun kicks off, Jeb is fulfilling his duties as Exaulted Chowderhead, complete with his chain of office, by hosting the club’s annual holiday event. At this event, club members dine on chowder (of course), drink heavily (of course), leer at waitresses (of course) – also taking turns to destroy specially-purchased holiday decorations and chant “Bah, Humbug” at regular intervals. At a key moment, however, Jeb discovers that his chain of office has been stolen, somehow lifted right off his neck without him even noticing.

Of course, Jeb calls in Sarah’s every-patient husband, Max, who is a professional finder of lost (and often stolen) art and artifacts. Whilst detecting, Max finds himself dragooned into taking Jen’s place at a costume party on a train ride on a private train – belonging to one of the other codfish – that includes a flood of champagne and a caviar (that codfish also happens to be an importer of caviar). Unfortunately, the caviar is poisoned by a disguised wine steward – wearing Jeb’s missing chain as part of his costume – and several of the party attendees die.

One of the murder victims includes the train owner/caviar importer’s younger brother – younger yet still elderly; all the suspects in this mystery are old curmudgeons – a would-be inventor with a bent for mechanical engineering but a misplaced sense of purpose.

So whodunnit? One of the codfish? A soon-to-be widow? One of their children or grandchildren, hoping to inherit? Someone hoping to corner the American caviar market?

This is a madcap romp around Beacon Hill and the neighboring Bostonian estates, featuring all of Sarah Kelling’s crazy relatives and in-laws, their friends, their families, and those eccentric people that hang on around the edges, hoping to cadge a little cachet or contributions.

These books are terribly addictive because they’re so fun – perfect for curling up in a big wing-backed chair with cup of tea – or perhaps a mug of clam chowder if you’re into that sort of thing. Perfect for when December weather is storming outside.

1. Hence the title which has NOTHING WHATSOEVER to do with the illustration on the latest cover. Who picks these things nowadays? Shame, shame, shame. It’s a wonder anyone buys them anymore. ↩︎