Lord Peter Wimsey bent down over General Fentiman and drew the Morning Post gently away from the gnarled old hands. Then, with a quick jerk, he lifted the quiet figure. It came up all of a piece, stiff as a wooden doll...

But how did the general die? Who was the mysterious Mr X who fled when he was wanted for questioning? And which of the general's heirs, both members of the Bellona Club, is lying?

This sinister case takes Dorothy L. Sayers' unique detective from London to Paris and finally back to the hushed dignity of the Bellona Club itself.

 
I used to really like Lord Peter Wimsey, and when I saw three novels starring him I had to get them, just to see if he still had the charm I remembered. I'm really looking forward to reading this book, as the story rings a few bells.