"Stop Press" was Innes' fourth mystery novel, and he never again wrote anything like it. I suppose it turned out too highbrow for the usual mystery-reading crowd: too long, too complex, too different. I wouldn't recommend it to anyone who is looking for a straightforward story with a corpse, an inquiry and a painstaking explanation in the third act. If any deviation from the cozy classic canon is anathema to you, do NOT read this book, and maybe even give Michael Innes a miss altogether. It's highbrow slapstick in a gothic setting: somewhat like an unlikely cross between Wilkie Collins and Evelyn Waugh of the "Vile Bodies" period. There are in fact mysteries here, and plenty of them, but they are mostly so bizarre that your good old body in the library will seem like an everyday occurrence. There is also an investigation by John Appleby, Innes' series character, but it has to be taken on the author's terms, which are a far cry from the Detection Club rules. There is also a solution at the end, so hilarious and far-fetched that it's in perfect accord with everything that preceded it, but will probably seem insulting to a serious-minded mystery reader whose suspicions have been vacillating between the butler and the no-good nephew. In other words, if you are ready to lose all your preconceptions about the genre, then go ahead: this is unlike anything ever written, bizarre, hilarious, deserving of a cult status on a par with, say, Stevenson's "The Wrong Box". If you are looking for the one-thousand-and-first repetition of the formula, save your money for that John Dickson Carr reprint series.