Another detective novel to start in the Tesco’s coronvirus queue and finish mostly in the garden on a sunny Saturday afternoon. This was good, although one could argue of its time.
Radical feminists interact with domestic complications in middle class southern England, with bigamy and apparent father/ daughter incest (one bigamous father, 2 daughters from different wives!) thrown in for good measure. A man disappears, and his body is subsequently found. Meanwhile, various men in the area are attacked by women with knives, one at a bus stop, one by a hitchhiker. The plots interlink, of course, and Wexford solves the case, although I found the psychology not quite right. But a good thriller.
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