"Lamia noticed that the glass in her hand was
trembling, and she put it down quickly on the
mantelshelf, a nasty Tudor affair in carved
stone. Her other hand tightly held an appro-
priately named clutch bag, in black satin with
a diamante trim. In it, she was carrying all a
woman could need at a party where she
hoped to meet her husband s girlfriend: com-
pact, mirror, comb, lipstick and gun."
So begins Susannah Stacey s wittiest and
most captivating mystery yet, featuring again
the wise Superintendent Robert Bone. The
party is one of rock idol Ken Cryer s standard
gatherings: musicians, dilettantes, and jet-set
hangers-on. So when he discovers the dead
body of one of his party guests propped up
and waiting for him in his luxurious four-poster
bed in a macabre parody of seduction, the
guest fist throws up a bewildering list of
potential murderers. Among them: Arch-
angel, a teenage rock heartthrob and his stat-
uesque Cherokee companion Mary High-
mountain; Sgtton Somerton, a neurotic and
highly successful architect; Noel Prestbury,
obsessive in his fervor for Catholic artifacts
and their proper uses; Monro Walsh, a tac-
iturn Scots doctor with a fiercely puritan
streak; and a host of dubious fast-track
sycophants.
Superintendent Bone sets about his inves-
tigation with the inscrutable professionalism
for which he is renowned. And a gradual thaw
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