Okay, wrong about the Bradbury mysteries, at least this first one. Nearly half way through, he introduces one pretty major character and brings the whole thing alive. She is a retired, eccentric, reclusive 60yr-old silent-film actress. Lives alone in palatial mansion, pretending to be her own chauffeur and maid and a thousand other people. Enjoys herself doing this, and virtually everything else she can think of.
The whole book suddenly started to live when she arrived. I, like far too many others, had made assumptions about the early events and characters. If it had been by anyone other than a Sci-Fi writer it would have been hailed as a great, worthy work. I’m sure Bradbury would have hated this.