This is our second encounter with Antony Maitland (Bloody Instructions 1962, p. 1082). His weaknesses and strengths are those of Peter Wimsey, whom he so strongly suggests. That is, his eloquence and elegance as well as his off-handish ways in the face of panic compel reader admiration at the same time that they annoy. This occasion has the young barrister drawn into a private vendetta left over from WWII, when a client's predicament is beclouded by ex-Nazis abroad in the land. Too much plot fuzzed by frequent irrelevancy fails to spoil the essentially good storytelling that is evident here.