Because the news is horrible I am having one of *those* days.
Here is a list of the books I wish Agatha Christie had written.
And Then There Were Nun (1939)
10 strangers are invited to a house by a mystery host and, one by one, are forced to take the veil.
Mudder on the Nile (1944)
Hercule Poirot is horrified when Captain Hastings takes him on an assault course in Egypt. But that was before a runner broke their neck in mysterious circumstances scaling an obelisk
Murder on the Gatwick Express (1934)
Poirot investigates the death of Southern Rail's CEO and, on discovering every commuter in Sussex did it because they just couldn't take it anymore, he covers up the crime.
Many of these municipal theatres experienced big funding cuts in the 80s, because the Conservative government was a group of heartless Philistines hell-bent on stripping civic pride and identity from working class communities.
At the same time, market pressures emanating from London encouraged the buy-up of local theatres.
They organised into corporate groups to achieve economies of scale.
These theatres cut back on producing and became touring houses.