Bloodhounds

When a priceless stamp goes missing and a body turns up inside a padlocked houseboat — with the only key found on someone who couldn't possibly have committed the crime — Inspector Peter Diamond finds himself facing one of Bath's most infuriating puzzles. The victim belonged to the Bloodhounds, a local club of devoted mystery readers who are now watching Diamond's every move, measuring his methods against those of their fictional heroes. The irony isn't lost on anyone, least of all Diamond himself.

What makes this entry in the series such a pleasure is the layered wit running beneath the procedural surface. Lovesey is in quiet conversation with the classic locked-room tradition, and the Bloodhounds club functions as a kind of Greek chorus of genre-savvy observers — enthusiastic, opinionated, and occasionally obstructive. Diamond himself remains one of crime fiction's most stubbornly human detectives: gruff, intuitive, and resistant to elegance. Lovesey's prose is economical without being cold, and the plotting rewards close attention. Readers who love mysteries that know exactly what they are will find this one particularly satisfying.