1989 mystery; seventh of MacLeod's novels of Professor Peter Shandy.
After the town's soap factory burns to the ground, it seems likely
that the arson was cover for the theft of an antique weather vane.
Well, it says "mystery" on the cover, but MacLeod seems to have
gone out of her way to avoid anything of the sort: it is made
absolutely clear just who the villains are the instant they appear,
and the only slight element of detection is in working out the details
of their scheme. There's comedy, and action, but nothing on which to
exercise the deductive powers.
So Peter Shandy goes off to visit a friend who has another of the
vanes, and finds himself fleeing from ruffians and helped by a woman
who's living elegantly rough on the land that she might eventually
inherit; and his wife Helen goes to visit a different friend, and
finds _her_self dumped overboard from a whale-watching boat as it's
stolen by more of the ungodly. It's quite fun, but all that's in the
first half of the book, and the second half slows down rather as the
two meet again, share information, and finish off the case.
Still, and the reason other than stubbornness that I'm carrying on
with my plan to read all of MacLeod, the writing is always competent,
and characters are usually amusing even if too readily divided into
Good and Bad. This is slight and comedic "mystery" which won't I think
captivate anyone, but nor does it leave a bad taste in the mouth.
Followed by An Owl Too Many.
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