A Plague On All Your (Country) Houses?

 If you look for any cosy crime/mystery stories set a Christmas then it's good odds you will find yourself embroiled in a country house party. 

And there must be a snow storm.

 Honestly, why would anyone accept an invitation to a house party  knowing that they would inevitably end up stowed in, with a murderer picking off guests one by one?

But readers, and therefore authors, love them!  They are frequently Golden Age, original or written as historical. Although  a contemporary setting  is possible the patina of a lost time seems to add to the mix. And, of course,  once the snow is deep and the single phone line down - probably courtesy of the killer - then no communication is available. None of that pesky mobile phone or Internet stuff. 

The basic ingredients are ripe for murder. A group if disparate people - obviously with various tensions in the relationships. Probably not a group anyone in their right mind would invite for a peaceful Christmas - but as my mother would say, if it wasn't like that, there would not be a story. So we find estranged children, uneasy business partners, former or illicit lovers, heirs in waiting. 

There must be a classic Christmas setting, with all the trappings - food, roaring fires, trees and decorations, almost the definition of cosy, lulling us into a false sense of security. The kind of Christmas everyone thinks they should be having, but probably few achieve? 

It is the darkest time of the year , with a power cut optional. The house is undoubtedly big and spooky, with long corridors, several staircases and perhaps a picture gallery. Also attics and cellars. It is usually attics - havens for neglected festive decorations and dressing up boxes. Cellars are more for thrillers, unless it is a wine cellar. 

There will be staff, and a 'lord of the manor' a good candidate for being the first victim. The second will be the person who appeared to have done the crime, and/or has crucial information which they are about to divulge to the sleuth. There must be a sleuth - an amateur or possibly a private detective - Hercule Poirot please step forward. The police - in the first instance likely to be the slow and bovine village bobby, complete with bike - will be late on the scene, held up by the snow. There will be clues, as the whole thing is based on a puzzle. 

Everything hinges on atmosphere. The conjuring of the perfect Christmas that actually isn't And we would not have it any other way.