Pun Salad

I'm a fan of this Anthony Horowitz series, where a semi-fictionalized narrator named "Anthony Horowitz" teams up with an enigmatic ex-cop private eye, Hawthorne, to solve baffling murders. And there is a publishing deal involved: Horowitz is to write about their exploits in … for example, the very book you're reading now.

But in this one, that relationship is in danger. Horowitz is tired of Hawthorne's foibles, and he's resentful about having to split the royalty payments. He'd rather concentrate on producing other works, for example, a play he wrote about grisly deeds in a lunatic asylum, about to make its London premiere. But that goes off the rails rather quickly, when a very nasty reviewer savages the play, and is quickly stabbed to death the following morning. With a knife that Horowitz was gifted by the play's producer! A knife with Horowitz's fingerprints!

That's enough for the cops. Horowitz is arrested for the murder. He knows he didn't do it. And we, the readers, know he didn't do it. But the evidence against him is pretty damning. Maybe Hawthorne can save him?

What follows is an amusing, very classic, whodunit. Hawthorne uses a very illegal, but non-violent, method to get Horowitz temporarily released from custody, and they proceed to interview suspects, track down leads, reveal secrets and histories, … and it all winds up with a Hawthorne-orchestrated I'm-sure-you're-all wondering-why-I-gathered-you-here conclusion.

It's a lot of fun, and would make a great BBC miniseries. Horowitz characterizes himself as a clueless fussbudget, something I'm pretty sure is far from the truth. At the end—this isn't really a spoiler—he is nudged into writing more books in the series, including this one. And the next one, coming out in March, I see.