It seems that Whoever is in charge of The Weather nowadays got tired of the complaints about climate change, and decided to throw down some snow today, instead of rain. (Not sure it helps the situation much. It's only frozen water, after all!)
"Christmas 1953. Max Mephisto and his daughter Ruby are headlining Brighton Hippodrome, an achievement only slightly marred by the less-than-savoury support act: a tableau show of naked 'living statues'. This might appear to have nothing in common with DI Edgar Stephens' current case of the death of a quiet flowerseller, but if there's one thing the old comrades have learned it's that, in Brighton, the line between art and life - and death - is all too easily blurred..."Much as I suspected beforehand, the showbiz setting and characters did not appeal to me the same way that the Ruth Galloway series does. For some reason I've never really been a huge fan of variety shows and stage magic - whereas I always had a certain fascination for archaeology and history. That said, I have to admire the author for her ability to switch between the two different (sub-)genres.
