The pink Edwardian gown that Lady Lelia Guest wore to the Pottershill Social League's fancy dress ball turns up the next day in a pile of discarded garments at the Economy Centre--bloodied and bullet-holed at the back of the bodice. And Lady L. (so much younger and livelier than Sir Edward) has disappeared. And so has Ronald Starkey, slimy lodger at Mrs. Ruth Winter's (he went to the ball as a Raggedy Ann doll). Who--if anybody--was murdered? Enormously likable Ingrid Winter, when not scouting for the ideal house to share with fiancÃ‰ Inspector Martin Rhymer, listens to scads of gossip and helps Martin put the right clothes on the right corpse. In a tiny way, Ferrars' latest is just right: cheery rather than gory-but neither too quaint nor too quiet.