And that’s the magic of this ongoing series (a third Susan Ryeland novel, “Marble Hall Murders,” is due out next March): Horowitz’s effortless blending of old-school, Agatha Christie-ish murder mystery with an exceptionally modern heroine. The books deliciously combine both stories, and the TV series takes it a step further, letting us see Susan and Pünd’s worlds overlapping, both in passing (Susan’s car crosses Pünd’s car on a country road) and directly. Pünd (Tim McMullan) sometimes banters with Susan from the passenger seat as she’s driving, or paces her room at night as she ponders the case. (“You’re not real,” she tartly reminds him, when they disagree.) Fiction becomes real life, and real life — in the hands of the devious Conway (Conleth Hill), who’s a strong presence in this series despite being dead — becomes fiction. Many of the supporting actors are double-cast; watch closely, to see if there’s a clue in who plays who. And there’s a self-conscious playfulness to the adaptation that’s irresistible. At one point, after we’ve been left dangling with a cliffhanger, Susan in a flashback complains to Conway about his pacing: “You make us wait a whole chapter before you explain what it means.”
All of this is filmed with impeccable attention to detail. The settings are evocative, from that lovely if cursed English country hotel (I wanted to book a room immediately) to the carefully curated suburban comfort of Susan’s sister’s home. The costumes, particularly in the period half of the show, are pure pleasure (note the perfectly fitted ‘50s career-lady suits on Pünd’s secretary Madeline Cain, played by Pippa Bennett-Warner), and the light, even in London, always seems unusually clear and lovely.
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