Oh, goodie! Another Detective Chief Inspector Fitzjohn mystery. I really do like him. And his Sergeant Betts. Kind of Inspector Morse with an Australian accent, eh Mate? I first came across the dear boy in The Celtic Dagger, and here he is again, called back from leave to investigate the death of a guy who was found in the water by the side of a boat his company was working on. No water in his lungs, so for those of you who read lots of mysteries, you will know what that means: MURDER MOST FOUL!
Mz Paterson’s mysteries are nice and convoluted, lots of threads to unravel, lots of characters to either like or dislike, and the delightful Allistair Fitzjohn, the baleful widower tending his late wife’s orchids in a backyard greenhouse threatened by a sizable branch of the acerbic and unpleasant neighbor’s tree.
This one revolves around possible art fraud, wine making, accidental(?) death by mushroom poisoning, family, fidelity, fealty and faulty business practices.
Yep, it’s a doozie. I’m thinking you will never guess whodunnit. But then, you are probably lots smarter than me, and more alert, too.
I’ve got to go. Somebody is at my door wanting to sell me a gen-u-ine Picasso for only $40. Sounds like a steal. (See what I did there?)