ever so discreetly, towards the end of this late book by Richard
Lockridge alone, and much of the rest of the book is taken up with their
parental concern whether their son Michael is sleeping with the girl he
has brought home for the Christmas holidays. (He is, but it's all right
-- he announces their engagement at the end.)
Interspersed with this rather tentative exploration of Seventies sexual
morality is Heimrich's investigation of the murder of a local lawyer,
Sam Jackson, run over in the parking lot of a local hotel-restaurant on
a freezing December night. Michael's girlfriend Joan is a witness, and
things become personal for the Heimrichs when she herself is
subsequently menaced. Clients, relatives and domestic staff all come
under suspicion, clues are sparse but fair, and the experienced reader
should have no trouble naming the murderer before Heimrich does.
Meanwhile we learn a good deal about coping with an icy Christmas in
upstate New York.
Lockridge books seldom outstay their welcome. At 192 pages this is just
long enough to sustain its fairly slender thread of detection.
Jon.
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