This is a long way off the engaging page-turners we have become accustomed to from this talented writer. Whatever Ms Holt had in mind we shall never know, but whatever it was, it was not to my taste; a muddle of bland humour, weak storyline, and interminable chatter between a Sheila Mallory I did not recognise and her son, who appears to have no interests in life except whether his fiance will still marry him if they don't find the killer.
The plotting is clear enough, but only because there really isn't much of a plot. The characterisations, likewise, add nothing to the story and left me wondering why anyone would bother whether such boring people lived or died.
Anybody who thinks they're going to get the sort of well-developed plots, credible characters and folksy settings of the school of cosy British Country Murders had better look for another author to follow. It seems that Hazel Holt has finally gone off the rails. What a disappointment!