‘Why Didn’t They Ask Evans?’ brings you a thrilling ride. Two friends, Lady Frances and Bobby, dive into a mysterious death. A man falls off a cliff and they can’t resist investigating. As they dig deeper, they find a tangled web of deceit and danger. Expect twists and turns at every corner. With a great cast and beautiful scenery, this show is perfect for fans of Christie and period dramas. Don’t miss it!

Meet the characters from Why Didn’t They Ask Evans

Bobby Jones

Oh man, Bobby is just the quietly brilliant type who sneaks up on you — mild-mannered, steady, and annoyingly practical in the best way. He’s the one who notices the little things (you know, that smudge on a letter, the way someone tenses) and then solves the whole mess while everyone else is still arguing; also he trips over his own feet sometimes, which is kind of adorable. He’s loyal to a fault and oddly stubborn — like a dog with a bone, except smarter and with worse fashion sense. There’s a softness under that sensible exterior too, though he’d never admit it; he likes a good cup of tea and maybe collects postcards, or is that a lie I just made up?

Frankie Derwent

Frankie is utterly impossible to ignore — sparks, gossip, wit, and a reckless friendliness that gets her into trouble and then somehow out again. She’s got this quicksilver brain and a terrible habit of blurting things at the worst possible moment, but it usually helps, honestly, because she sees patterns other people don’t. She’s affectionate and dramatic but not fake about it; she’ll storm into a room and save the day or set it on fire, there’s no in-between. Also she paints in bursts at three in the morning and says she hates tea but definitely drinks it when nervous (contradictions are her superpower).

Ralph ‘Knocker’ Beadon

Knocker is the gruff, curmudgeonly type who actually has the biggest soft spot in the room — you want him on your side. He’s blunt, suspicious, and speaks like he’s been chewing on coal for a decade, yet he’ll do tiny, inexplicable kindnesses (mending a coat, leaving an extra pie) that make you rethink everything. He’s got a nickname like he’s lived a dozen lives, and he probably has — fishermen’s tales, dubious alibis, a heart that won’t quit. Also he hums old songs when he thinks no one’s listening and swears he hates modern music but can’t stop tapping his foot, so yeah, complicated in a grumpy way.

Dr. Alwyn Thomas

Okay, the good doctor is the calm, rational anchor who’s secretly more dramatic than he lets on, which is my favorite thing. He’s analytical and observant — the kind of person who can read a room like it’s an open book — but there’s this weird gentle impatience underneath, like he wants to fix people and can’t always. He’s ethical to a fault and has a tired kind of courage; also he makes absurdly precise notes on napkins, which is either charming or mildly alarming. He pretends not to enjoy gossip, but then sneaks the best bits to his cat (or was it a parrot?), so who knows.

Moira Nicholson

Moira is delightfully unpredictable: vivacious, mysterious, and fiercely independent, with a streak of mischief that keeps everyone guessing. She’s clever and brave in a way that isn’t showy — she’ll slip out and do what needs doing while everyone else is debating morals, and she’d roll her eyes at that sentence. There’s a melancholy edge sometimes, like a song with a bright tune and sad lyrics, and she collects little talismans that mean more to her than she admits. Also she says she hates attention but will absolutely stage a dramatic entrance when it matters, which is basically her brand.

Roger Bassington-ffrench

Roger is flamboyantly unreliable in the best possible sense — a dandy with a dangerous smile, part charmer, part schemer, wholly entertaining. He’s the kind of bloke who wears a cravat to a picnic and can talk his way into or out of anything, which makes him equal parts maddening and irresistible. Deep down he’s a bit of a coward masquerading as bravado, but sometimes that bravado actually works, bizarrely enough. He collects scandal stories like trophies and tells them with excessive flair (and possibly wrong details), so you can never be totally sure whether to trust him or just enjoy the show.

Dr. James Nicholson

He’s the older, steadier presence — thoughtful, a touch old-fashioned, very principled, and quietly stubborn in a fatherly way. He carries responsibility like an old coat: heavy but familiar, and he somehow makes the burden look less terrifying, which is impressive. He has strong opinions, an irritatingly good memory for trivial facts, and a surprising fondness for gardening (or was it model ships? I can’t decide), which humanizes him instantly. Also don’t underestimate his temper — it’s slow to spark but when it does, watch out; then he’s all soft apologies afterward, because that’s his thing.