Another Dido Hoare mystery, the serial sleuth who is a single mother and antiquarian bookseller in North London. As in previous books, Dido is reluctantly drawn into fatal plots, though her inherent nosiness prevents her from backing off when good sense says she should. The format is reassuringly familiar to those who have read the previous tales - the downstairs shop, the upstairs flat, the infant Ben, who doesn't seem to age much - and Barnabas, the supportive father who is an ex-Oxford professor. Even the tuna-loving cat, Mr Spock, is a regular character. The expert stuff about antique books adds extra interest to these well-written, easy-read stories. The plot is rather opaque, until all is revealed, but that's what mystery readers want - a mystery! This one revolves around a gent who buys a lot of expensive books from Dido, the cheque for the last one bouncing just before he is found dead. When she goes looking for her money, the probate solicitors hire her to value his collection - but it ain't there! All she finds is an almost empty box of padded envelopes and it transpires that said gent has been flogging them to America as a clever way of money laundering. The author claims that buying and selling expensive books at a profit is a legitimate way of dodging the Inland Revenue, as long as you don't overdo it enough to be considered as a trader.
My Hippocratic Oath as a reviewer prevents me from revealing more of the story, but for Dido Hoare fans, this is another in the same trusty mould.