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Lichfield also happens to be the setting for the book, and it's a buzzing hive of activity. People are gearing up for an historical re-enactment of the Battle of Worcester, the local clergy believe that Satan himself is planning a visit and the Polish premier is coming to town to visit a mass-grave of Polish troops killed during WWII. It's rumoured that he is a descendant of Jack the Ripper, which people seem to take quite seriously despite the fact that Jack the Ripper was never identified. He is, however, a known war criminal, and rumoured to be targeted for assassination by the French assassin known only as the Wolf. What's more, a bunch of hippies have ridden into town to protest his arrival. Damn those filthy peaceniks, what have they got against genocide anyway?
Among their number is a man in a black fedora known only as Haggard. Not sure why he doesn't make much of an attempt to blend in, but his lack of facial hair or comfortable footwear attracts the ire of the commune's leader, Benjamin. Shouldn't he be called Moonbeam or something? He gets into several petty arguments with Haggard and is frequently on the verge of beating his girlfriend senseless. Man, he's pretty uptight for a hippie. His girlfriend takes a shine to Haggard and really there's no contest. Haggard's wiry, athletic physique is contrasted against Benjamin's nasty rolls of belly fat at every opportunity. Benjamin pimps her out to the rest of the commune, while Haggard tenderly makes love to her on a blanket under the stars. Plus Haggard carries a gun, and you know what that does to the ladies.
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How are all these incidents connected, and what does it have to do with... the man in the black fedora? Dun dun duuuun! Well, the focus on Haggard makes it pretty apparent that he's not the villain of the piece, but they cheat on the cover by depicting him as a weird mutant surrounded by flames. The ending is pretty interesting as Haggard fucks it all up spectacularly. A heap of people die, but luckily most of them are communists so it's alright. Haggard's motives are kept in the dark until the very end where, in typical parlour mystery fashion, he blurts out several pages to the police chief explaining what he was doing and how he managed to piece it all together.
As you may have guessed, with this book Smith tries his hand at a mystery/thriller rather than the usual gore horror. People expecting the buckets of gore and sex of his horror books might be put off by the book's pace and focus. I mean, there's no giant crabs in sight, unless you count the ones nesting in the pubes of those filthy hippies. Did I mention how filthy and lazy those hippies were, because Smith did, many, many times. As a mystery it's not bad, but the book would probably be improved by the addition giant, rampaging crustaceans. But that can be said about most books.
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