Just another GR refugee. Other than that, I had a stroke in 2004, and read almost anything I can get my hands on, though I have a particular weakness for history, mystery, and historical fiction.
Calamity in Kent, though published in 1950, has the feel of a novel published in 1930. (Therefore the offhand mentions of the Black Market and rationing felt a little strange. But they're very accurate for 1950 Britain.)
I just couldn't like this one very much. I think in part because I never really took a liking to our narrator, a journalist. And in part because this novel's plot is very much "Scotland Yard Inspector decides his journalist friend, Jimmy, is the best choice to investigate weird locked-room murder, and lets him go to it." Which is the epitome of "not believable."
This one has not aged well.