... even now, even after completing a crossword had indirectly led him to the Magic Men and some of the worst experiences of his life, he still saw an unfinished puzzle as a treat, something to be savoured at the end of the day. [p. 10]
Brighton, 1950: police detective Edgar Stephens is investigating the grisly murder of a woman who's been cut into three pieces. She was a stage magician's assistant, and the magician in question is Edgar's old wartime comrade Max Mephisto. The two served in a unit nicknamed the Magic Men, creating illusions and false trails for the enemy. Could something or someone from that period of their lives have a vendetta against Edgar or Max?
Meanwhile, the world of showbusiness is changing. Audiences are less interested in variety shows, the shows that have kept Max and his colleagues in work for years. Instead of seeing a comedian, a singer or two and a magician, they prefer plays, such as the new Agatha Christie that one character disparages: 'it’ll only run a few weeks, never make it to the West End'. (This is a rather heavy-handed nod to contemporary readers who will be aware that The Mousetrap is still going strong in the West End after nearly seventy years.) Max and his fellow ex-Magic Men mourn the death of a way of life: changes are coming, not all of them good.
I guessed the identity of the villain quite early, but the plot and the characters kept me reading: I wanted to see how it was done, the 'reveal'. I didn't find this first volume in a series as engaging as Griffiths' 'Ruth Galloway' series -- starting with The Crossing Places -- but The Zig-Zag Girl was very readable, well-paced and with rounded characters and a good sense of place.
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