fullybooked2017

I suppose in the kingdom of detective partnerships, Holmes and Watson will never be dethroned, and quite rightly, too. I would however nominate (alongside Rizzoli and Isles, Morse and Lewis, Bryant and May, Wolfe and Goodwin) Alex Delaware and Milo Sturgis. Jonathan Kellerman’s duo of a child psychologist and LA homicide cop have for me, in dozens of novels, never failed to deliver. Yes, there’s a formula at work here, but that’s what makes all these partnerships work. Sturgis is abrasive, socially insecure and, because of his homosexuality, fighting an endless battle against his censorious LAPD colleagues, but he is a brilliant investigator: add into the mix Delaware’s social awareness, acutely attuned antennae for  people telling lies, and you have a winning mix.

A glamorous woman and a younger man are found shot dead at a Bel Air property. Her expensive jewellery has not been taken, and it looks like a professional job. Sturgis asks Delaware to take a look at the crime scene*.

*For new readers who wonder why Delaware is brought into the case, it’s simple. It’s the way the books work. Sturgis is something of a maverick, loose-cannon, lone-wolf – choose your own metaphor- and as long as he does the business, his colleagues leave him alone, so he always welcomes the extra pair of eyes and psychological insight that Delaware brings. In case you were wondering, Delaware earns a good living as a court-acknowledged expert in legal cases involving children so, thankfully for fans like me, he can afford the time to help Sturgis.

It transpires the dead woman is Meagin March, whose husband Doug is a real estate billionaire, and the corpse alongside hers belonged to, as they say, her toy-boy. Not short of a cent or three himself, Giovanni Aggiunta is the errant younger scion of a top draw Italian shoe making firm. He receives a generous allowance to amuse himself while his older brother and other family continue creating wealth with their exclusive designer footwear.  is not all she seems to have been, however, and it turns out that in a previous life she was a Vegas glamour escort. Yes, she finally snared Mr Right – and a life of luxury – but Delaware and Sturgis can find no-one who has a bad word to say about the murdered lovers, but become convinced that the woman was the intended target, and that her Italian lover was, sadly, collateral damage.

Doug March is a thoroughly unpleasant fellow. He was away on a business trip at the time, so it wasn’t his finger on the trigger of the .38 revolver, but could he have been so angry at Meagin that he hired a contract killer? Delaware is convinced that there is a message waiting to be discovered in one of the rooms of the March’s mansion. Meagin was an amateur artist and the room was her studio. All but one of her paintings are unremarkable ‘chocolate box’ scenes, but the exception seems to be a particularly severe abstract. Eventually, Delaware’s live-in romantic interest, Robin, identifies as a painting of a strange and rare flower, known as a ghost orchid*.

*Dendrophylax lindenii, the ghost orchid (a common name also used for Epipogium aphyllum) is a rare perennial epiphyte from the orchid family. It is native to Florida, the Bahamas, and Cuba. Other common names include palm polly and white frog orchid.

Robin provides more insight by suggesting that Delaware and Sturgis take a look at the unusual spelling of the dead woman’s name. I won’t say any more, but it’s not too hard an anagram to solve. These fresh clues result into a deep dive into ‘Meagin’s’ childhood which reveals horrors hitherto unsuspected. Delaware and Sturgis finally get their killer, but not quite in the way they were expecting. This is another classy and absorbing tale from the casebook of one of modern crime fiction’s most endearing partnerships. It is published by Century/Penguin Random House and will be out on 15th February.