"You don t believe me, do you?" asked Henry. "That I might have killed somebody." Well, really. The genuine murderer the real pro tends to keep track of that sort of thing. And he wasn t dressed for murder. The tweed jacket, the checked waistcoat, and above all the yellow bow tie they would have enabled Henry to audition as an extra in a 50s costume drama a dodgy bookmaker, say, or a ne er-do-well younger brother destined for exile to one of the more obscure colonies. They were not clothes that you would risk wearing for a murder.Which is fine, since there isn t actually a body. And yet there are an awful lot of red herrings, just begging to be pawed through by the hapless Ethelred and Elsie, his chocolate-chomping agent.The funniest Herring yet in this deliciously giggly, Edgar-nominated series."