The woods were literally crawling with people who wanted to shoot landed solicitor Michael Benton--but his fellow-players in a game of Capture the Flag were horrified to find that someone had shot him with live ammunition instead of a paintball. Which one of Benton's buddies in the War Games Club (whose juvenile dedication to their preadolescent pastime Quinton never quite makes convincing) sidelined him for good? Sgt. Patrick Mansfield and his boss, Insp. James Roland, are dismayed to find that the nine gamesters creeping through the woods along with Benton merely head the list of suspects. There's also the grieving widow and her lover, Benton's ex-partner; Benton's own rumored lover, who's been unbalanced for years; the neighboring farmer who's been so chagrined at his failure to buy a parcel of Benton's land that he's been roaming that parcel with a metal detector; and the War Games players who said they'd been away from Felstone for the day--but who might always have sneaked back especially for the occasion. Pages of alternately colorless and unsubtle Q&A (Quinton's coppers don't conduct their inquiries with quite the finesse you may have come to expect from the Brits) reveal the usual dastardly secrets and an unsurprising killer, though a nice surprise is saved, like the cherry on a sundae, for the very end. The generic title is all too accurate. Humdrum plotting and unremarkable characters keep Quinton's first US publication off the top shelf.