DIAMOND AND THE EYE

Move over, Detective Superintendent Peter Diamond. The Avon and Somerset CID is about to be joined, jostled, and decentered by two other parties interested in an otherwise ordinary burglary.

Just because Johnny Getz—probably not his real name—is a private eye doesn’t mean he doesn’t think Pete, as he insists on calling Diamond, should work with him. Johnny’s client, fashion designer Ruby Hubbard, is worried sick because her father, Septimus Hubbard, has been missing ever since his antiques shop was robbed. Ruby can’t even get access to the storefront to find out what’s missing and what clues to his whereabouts Seppy might have left behind. Diamond reluctantly agrees to let Ruby look over the place and share a bit of information with Johnny, and in no time at all there are dramatic new developments: During their preliminary search of the shop, Ruby finds a stranger’s corpse neatly laid out in an Egyptian coffin, and then Ruby herself is shot and ends up in the hospital. Diamond, meanwhile, has to contend with a second interloper of a very different stripe: Lady Virginia Bede, a much-married, archly seductive lay member of the ethics committee who attaches herself to his investigation as a sixth wheel. The search for Seppy and what looks more and more like an exceptionally valuable painting he’d purchased from buyers who hadn’t a clue what they were selling would be routine, at least by Lovesey’s high standards, if Johnny didn’t keep interrupting the flow of the procedural with first-person chapters in his own pungent style, floridly reminiscent of the fictional American shamuses he clearly wishes he were one of.

A mundane plot juiced by those unwelcome hangers-on.