Murder Is Bad Manners (WELLS & WONG MURDER IS B) - Hardcover

Robin Stevens was born in California and grew up in Oxford, England, across the road from the house where Alice of Alice in Wonderland lived. Robin has been making up stories all her life. She spent her teenage years at boarding school, reading a lot of murder mysteries and hoping that she’d get the chance to do some detecting herself (she didn’t). She studied crime fiction in college and then worked in children’s publishing. Robin now lives in London with her pet bearded dragon, Watson.

Murder Is Bad Manners


This is the first murder that the Wells & Wong Detective Society has ever investigated, so it is a good thing Daisy bought me a new casebook. The last one was finished after we solved The Case of Lavinia’s Missing Tie. The solution to that, of course, was that Clementine stole it in revenge for Lavinia punching her in the stomach during lacrosse, which was Lavinia’s revenge for Clementine telling everyone Lavinia came from a broken home. I suspect the solution to this new case may be more complex.

I suppose I ought to give some explanation of ourselves, in honor of the new casebook. Daisy Wells is the president of the Detective Society, and I, Hazel Wong, am its secretary. Daisy says that this makes her Sherlock Holmes, and me Watson. This is probably fair. After all, I am much too short to be the heroine of this story, and who ever heard of a Chinese Sherlock Holmes?

That’s why it’s so funny that it was me who found Miss Bell’s dead body. In fact, I think Daisy is still upset about it, though of course she pretends not to be. You see, Daisy is a heroine-like kind of person, and so it should be her that these things happen to.

Look at Daisy and you think you know exactly the sort of person she is—one of those dainty, absolutely English girls with blue eyes and golden hair; the kind who’ll gallop across muddy fields in the rain clutching a hockey stick and then sit down and eat ten cinnamon rolls at tea. I, on the other hand, bulge all over like Bibendum the Michelin Man; my cheeks are moony-round and my hair and eyes are stubbornly dark brown.

I arrived from Hong Kong partway through seventh grade, and even then, when we were all still shrimps (shrimps, for this new casebook, is what we call the little sixth- and seventh-grade girls), Daisy was already famous throughout Deepdean School. She rode horses, was part of the lacrosse team, and was a member of the Drama Club. The Big Girls, which is what we call the girls in the top grades, took notice of her, and by May the entire school knew that the head girl herself—Deepdean’s most important Big Girl—had called Daisy a “good sport.”

But that is only the outside of Daisy, the jolly-good-show part that everyone sees. The inside of her is not jolly-good-show at all.

It took me quite a while to discover that.