Colin Watson est célèbre pour ses romans policiers humoristiques, se déroulant dans la ville fictive de Flaxborough et mettant en scène l'inspecteur Purbright. Au-delà de cette série, il a également écrit une étude sur la fiction policière et les thrillers. Ses œuvres se caractérisent par un style distinctif, explorant souvent des mystères avec un humour non conventionnel. Watson a apporté une perspective nouvelle et des personnages uniques au genre, captivant les lecteurs.
A mysterious letter hints at danger in the town of Flaxborough, leading to the discovery of a charity worker's body in a pond. As the Chief Constable and two other prominent citizens investigate, the story unfolds with a blend of wit and dark humor. Colin Watson's narrative is filled with clever wordplay and an entertaining ensemble of characters, making for a captivating read that combines intrigue with comedic elements.
Flaxborough loans DI Purbright to Chalmsbury for monuments blown up, after boxes of explosives are missing from the local civil defence center where police chief Hector Larch spends Tuesdays. Joker Stan Biggadyke blows up on the night he usually spends with Larch's wife. Verse-scraps and adultery gossip are the best clues from eccentric folk.
An elderly sex-pest is at large in DI Purbright’s home town. Leaping out from behind bushes at unsuspecting females, making lewd suggestions and, when challenged, scuttling away with odd off-balance leaps, he soon earns the nickname of the ‘Flaxborough crab’. No one can identify him, and it turns out that quite a few older gentlemen have begun exhibiting over-familiar behavior around the opposite sex. Suave Dr Meadow knows more than he is letting on, yet how can Purbright , aided once again by the fragrant but dodgy Miss Lucy Teatime, get him to talk? Events take a darker turn before the ill-assorted pair succeed in catching their crab.
Chief Inspector Purbright and Sergeant Love are called in when Brian Hopjoy and his roommate disappear from their rented lodgings at 14 Beatrice Avenue. While none of the neighbors even hint at foul play, drains yield suspicious substances: blood, lye. When the spooks come to play, things heat up.
The owner of "The Flaxborough Citizen" is found dead beneath an elecricity pylon, in his slippers, his mouth full of marshmallows. Is it accident, suicide or murder?
Who Put Hopjoy in the Acid Bath?
