The novel that takes Stanley Hastings, the ever-loquacious New York private detective, on safari in Zambia ... What could possibly go wrong?
Stanley Hastings on safari? I don't think so. Neither did Stanley, until Alice's small inheritance―coupled with scrimping on a few luxuries like food and rent―allowed them to book a group trip to Zambia. Now the New York PI is hiking with lions, canoeing with hippos, and having close encounters with elephants and giraffes.
The leader is a reckless, gung-ho, great white hunter who delights in leaping from the jeep with a hearty “Come on, gang, let's see where this lion is going!” And a series of bizarre accidents quickly dwindles the group's numbers. Why was the guide's young spotter foolish enough to walk under a sausage fruit tree―just as one of the huge sausage fruits fell? How did the leaves of a poisonous plant wind up in a tourist's salad? Are these really accidents?
A stabbing tips the scale. It's murder, and the only policeman in a hundred miles is a park ranger (whose only murder case was that of an ivory poacher shot dead in plain sight).
It's up to Stanley to crack the case ... if he can just avoid being eaten by a lion.