CLASSIC CRIME BARRY TURNER

A KNIFE FOR HARRY DODD by George Bellairs

(Agora £10.99, 256 pp) IT TAkeS a lot to phase Inspector Littlejohn. Faced with multiple murders, a spot of arson and a gathering of foultempered, selfimportant suspects, he puffs away at his pipe, placidly balancing conflicting evidence. The story is as much a family saga as a crime mystery.

As the black sheep, harry Dodd, an easygoing idler, leaves home to move in with a mother and daughter who have little to recommend them, except for the fact they provide lodgings with no questions asked.

In the background, there is a relationship Dodd wants to keep quiet as he tries to make amends with his wife.

But none of this would seem to motivate a fatal stab wound — until it emerges that the victim has made a fortune on the stock market. Writing more than 50 years ago, Bellairs has been too long neglected.

THE MALTESE HERRING by L.C. Tyler

(Allison & Busby £19.99, 350 pp) The odd couple is back. But, after many appearances, the relationship between the geekish ethelred, a middlerange crime writer, and his agent elsie, a chocoholic with a talent for sharp putdowns, is now more evenhanded.

The trouble starts when ethelred plays the reluctant host to a pushy Oxbridge historian in pursuit of buried treasure.

The search ends prematurely when the unwelcome guest is found at the bottom of a well. That he was pushed is beyond doubt. The question is, who among his numerous rivals did the deed?

The story whips along at a fair pace, pausing only for outloud laughs. For those inclined to black humour, it is a delight.

DEATH IN A DESERT LAND by Andrew Wilson

(Simon & Schuster £16.99, 352 pp) IT IS quite the thing for crime writers to raise their game by adopting one of the goldenage mystery writers to play the role of detective.

going for broke, Andrew Wilson has recruited Agatha Christie to front for him. More than that, he has borrowed in outline the plot of Christie’s very own Murder In Mesopotamia to underpin his mystery.

here, Ms Christie, lately divorced, teams up with British Intelligence to investigate the death of a noted explorer.

To this end, she joins an expedition in — you’ve guessed it — Mesopotamia. From this point, the story takes on a life of its own.

While Wilson tempts providence by inviting comparison with the real Agatha Christie, on the evidence of this book he succeeds admirably.