By five twenty that morning at least thirty of us had converged on Baker Street, so we started out for Ladbroke Grove en masse. A couple of DCs hitched a lift with me while Stephanopoulos followed on in a five-year-old Fiat Punto. I knew one of the detectives in my car. Her name was Sahra Guleed and we’d once bonded over a body in Soho. She’d also been one of the officers involved in the raid on the Strip Club of Doctor Moreau, so she was a good choice for any weird stuff.I am really enjoying this series of occult detective stories set in contemporary London. This is a straightforward murder investigation of an American student who fell into bad company, except that the company is seriously strange and the student turns out to have had political connections back home. I like the way Aaronovitch continues to peel back the onion layers of multicultural London's hidden communities; I didn't think he handled the American elements quite as well, but that's not the story he's telling. Great fun - perhaps funnier and less grim than previous books in the series - and I look forward to the next one.
This was the top sf book from my unread pile recommended by you guys at the end of last year. In the course of the year so far, I also read the next six books on that list, Ancillary Mercy, Flatland, Uprooted, Ms Marvel v 2, Sorcerer to the Crown and The House of Shattered Wings, so my next in that category will be Frankenstein Unbound, by Brian Aldiss.