That's not why I decided to read this book, however. I decided to read it because it's about the death of a comic-strip artist, and I thought it would be interesting for that reason alone. And I was right. There's a lot in the book about how comic strips were produced back in the '50s, about the syndication, about how the artist and the writer worked, and so on. The narrator is a newspaper reporter, so there's a good bit about newspapers, too. All of this will seem as foreign to a modern reader as if it were about drawing on cave walls or writing on stone tablets, but it was fun for me. Being an old guy, I can remember the way things used to be, and I have no trouble at all putting myself back in that time while I'm reading the book.
Bond's (or Winterbotham's) writing is nothing special, but it's smooth and professional. The plot involves not one, not two, but three beautiful women, and there are plenty of complications. Despite the latter, however, the killer was pretty easy to spot, even for me. That doesn't mean I didn't enjoy the book, though. I always enjoy a brief return to those thrilling days of yesteryear when life was a bit different from the way it is now.
Winterbotham wrote one other Ace Double under the Bond name. Maybe I'll even read it one of these days.