| "Lamia noticed that the glass in her hand wastrembling, and she put it down quickly on themantelshelf, a nasty Tudor affair in carvedstone. Her other hand tightly held an appro-priately named clutch bag, in black satin witha diamante trim. In it, she was carrying all awoman could need at a party where shehoped to meet her husband s girlfriend: com-pact, mirror, comb, lipstick and gun." So begins Susannah Stacey s wittiest andmost captivating mystery yet, featuring againthe wise Superintendent Robert Bone. Theparty is one of rock idol Ken Cryer s standardgatherings: musicians, dilettantes, and jet-sethangers-on. So when he discovers the deadbody of one of his party guests propped upand waiting for him in his luxurious four-posterbed in a macabre parody of seduction, theguest fist throws up a bewildering list ofpotential murderers. Among them: Arch-angel, a teenage rock heartthrob and his stat-uesque Cherokee companion Mary High-mountain; Sgtton Somerton, a neurotic andhighly successful architect; Noel Prestbury,obsessive in his fervor for Catholic artifactsand their proper uses; Monro Walsh, a tac-iturn Scots doctor with a fiercely puritanstreak; and a host of dubious fast-tracksycophants. Superintendent Bone sets about his inves-tigation with the inscrutable professionalismfor which he is renowned. And a gradual thaw |
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