When a series of deaths occur in London, Inspector Phillip Devlin of Scotland Yard thinks he knows who did it: an old classmate from his school days. Aided by his young constable Freddie whom he may or may not have feelings for, Devlin investigates the mystery. He soon learns that not only is he after the murderer; the murderer is after him.

I thought this was a fairly bland mystery. It was mostly straightforward and there was nothing terribly exciting about it that kept me on the edge of the chair. However, if the plot was weak, the characters did make me take a second look. Devlin was interesting and likable. He had this weariness about him. It wasn’t broody cynicism, but a kind of low-key, tattered weariness like you would associate with a man who’s been at his job for way too long. He doesn’t leap onto clues with a burst of glory; he just does his job and does it well.

I liked Freddie too, even if his characterization was overly simplistic. Actually, it wasn’t his actions that made him simplistic; it was the way the narrative kept presenting him. For example, even when he would do something completely normal, other characters would jump on his lack of intelligence. Cook kept on trying to make Freddie seem stupid in comparison to Devlin. It was too much, in my opinion. There was too much ‘telling’ instead of ’showing’ in general that made A Cold-Blooded Scoundrel seem amateur. But stylistic and plot quibbles aside, I enjoyed Devlin and Freddie and their fumbling romance. I don’t think I’ll read the book again but I would definitely be up for seeing more of the two. ( )