The Stripes of Wrath

The Detective taps her temple. “Allow me to present my prudentials. The Case of the Missing Muffins. The Lizard of Lacewhisper Street. The Mysterious Weasel Thief Who Definitely Weren’t Arnold Even Though The Missing Weasels Showed Up Inside His Hat. That were all me. I mean, it were me that solved 'em. Not me that done 'em.”

A hideous murder attempt rocks London – an attack so vicious it sends its victim off to the Grand Sanatorium. A tangle of magicians, tigers and insects has the Constables scratching their heads and the greatest detectives in London flummoxed. But what did the cabbies see? And what is that persistent buzzing noise…