Synopsis: "You shouldn’t be here. It’s too late…"
These, heard over the phone, were the last recorded words of successful celebrity-divorce lawyer. Richard Pryce, found bludgeoned to death in his bachelor pad with a bottle of wine – a 1982 Chateau Lafite worth £3,000, to be precise.
Odd, considering he didn’t drink. Why this bottle? And why those words? And why was a three-digit number painted on the wall by the killer? And, most importantly, which of the man’s many, many enemies did the deed?
Baffled, the police are forced to bring in Private Investigator Daniel Hawthorne >and his sidekick, the author Anthony, who’s really getting rather good at this murder investigation business.
But as Hawthorne takes on the case with characteristic relish, it becomes clear that he, too, has secrets to hide. As our reluctant narrator becomes ever more embroiled in the case, he realises that these secrets must be exposed – even at the risk of death…
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For someone who "... had no wish to turn myself into a character, a secondary one at that; the perennial sidekick .." that is exactly what Horowitz has done, quite possibly for the second time, if one reads between the lines correctly.
Anyway, whilst in the midst of filming an episode of "Foyle's War", Dorian Gray like detective, Daniel Hawthorn whisks Horowitz away to investigate the murder of high profile divorce lawyer, Richard Pryce. With some cracking dialogue, basic powers of observation - "... so far I had missed three clues and misconstrued two more. Things were only going to get worse." - Hawthorn and Horowitz must work ahead of the police investigation to solve this little mystery, all while trying to finish filming, re-write scenes, dealing with malevolent police detectives, and attending book club.
Horowtiz is humourous and self deprecating, the naive Watson to Hawthorn's oft-times annoying, condescending, and definitely not PC Holmes. By the end of it all you are left with one question - is it real or just very clever writing .....
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