The felonies keep on coming for Inspector Harry Timberlake (The Twelfth Man, 1992). First, there's the double murder of Ann Pascoe and her daughter Veronica Newman. Timberlake's convinced Veronica's estranged husband, Charles Newman, is responsible, but before he can break an alibi that places sneering Charles in Marseilles the night of the killings, he's taken off the case. Meantime, there's a rabbity runaway motor mechanic whose father wants to beat him into an accountant; a witness against alleged county bribe-taker Lawrence Soper who suddenly decides not to testify; a flood of counterfeit Â£1 coins (as one old pro asks, why bother?); and a series of brutal murders of middle-aged women living alone. On the home front, Timberlake, worried that the steam has gone out of his clandestine affair with Officer Sarah Lewis, takes up with predatory actress Lucinda Fordham -- not realizing that he and Sarah are in for more stirring times ahead. Brisk and efficient as a poke in the eye. If British procedurals have a prize for mayhem per inch, put Timberlake down as a front-runner.