I like Inspector Ghote as a character, but most of this book comprises his internal monologues about what he should do next, or not, or might do, later, perhaps, at some point, possibly tomorrow, all being well. It's a lot of verbiage that does little to disguise the fact that not an awful lot happens in the story. Certainly not much detective work goes on, but thankfully this is not necessary as the Inspector can always rely on blind luck to help him through - most of his leads are picked up through improbable coincidences. Also, there's a bizarre episode where he misses out on a good chance to catch a murderer just because his wife wants him to go somewhere else. As a reader I felt insulted by the assumption that I would swallow this nonsense. The ending is a disappointment, it's as if the author reached the required word count then wrapped things up as quickly as possible.
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