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Christianna Brand is among the very first few of our British detective writers,' said Elizabeth Bowen. Adept at the ' drawing-room ' detective story, Christianna Brand here turns to a scene of near fantasy—a cardboard and tinsel tower, a flimsy balcony above a brightly-lit stage . . . three of the suspects on one side of a locked door, the other three cavorting about on horseback dressed up in phoney armour. . . . But there is nothing unreal about the body of Isabel Drew, who, in full view of a thousand people, is strangled and thrown down to her death. The delightful and irascible Inspector Cockrill (of Heads You Lose, Green jar Danger and Suddenly at his Residence) is on the spot, ' bumbling about,' as The New Yorker puts it,' in his captivating way,' none too pleased to find the Terror of Kent forced into competition with a bright young spark from Scotland Yard. The jig-saw puzzle begins to sort itself out . . . and in due course the last piece clicks perfectly inlo position.
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