‘He’s twenty-two, just out of university,’ said Tracey. ‘He has a degree in English and Philosophy.’
‘Well, I suppose he can discuss the whys and wherefores of sixteenth-century poets as he’s putting crims behind bars.’ [loc. 2010]
Lulu, retired police detective, and her cat Conrad who talks (but only to her) are in Oxford for a party celebrating the sixtieth birthday of an old friend. She's happy to spend time with Julia, whose husband is the birthday boy -- but then (see title) there's a murder.
I enjoyed the first of this series, The Cat Who Caught a Killer, but was less enthusiastic about this one. For one thing, Conrad is less proactive: here, he's really just there to notice things and to discuss the case with Lulu. (Oh, and to have his claws swabbed for DNA after attacking a potential villain.) Is he just a figment of her imagination? For another, the 'canal boat' ambience is minimal: most of the action takes place in Julia's house. (Lulu even borrows clothes, presumably including underwear...)
It's also horribly repetitive -- I lost count* of the times Lulu 'bent down so that Conrad could jump onto her shoulders'. And the Daily Mail undertones are stronger in this volume. (Blood is spattered on the wallpaper. 'It's one of your namesake's, five hundred pounds a roll ... Lulu Lytle, the woman who did Boris Johnson’s interior design at Number 10. When Bernard heard that, he insisted we use her wallpaper in the study.' [loc. 556]) I still like Conrad, but Lulu is beginning to remind me of an unpleasant former colleague: not a welcome recollection.
*(just checked: 12 times).
I don’t think you are a lover of “whimsy” or cats, so don’t read this kind of fun book.
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