Strange that I should be giving only two stars to a book that I found hard to put down but the end was so lame that it quite ruined the book for me. Horowitz captures the golden age style of writing splendidly – I would love reading the earlier Atticus Pund mysteries- but the frame-narrative was disappointing. The opening lines, however, are some of the best out there:
“A bottle of wine. A family-sized packet of Nacho Cheese Flavoured Tortilla Chips and a jar of hot salsa dip. A packet of cigarettes on the side (I know, I know). The rain hammering against the windows. And a book.
What could have been lovelier?”
Indeed what can be lovelier though I can do without cigarettes and replace wine with tea.