Christopher Fowler’s acclaimed Peculiar Crimes Unit novels crackle with sly wit, lively suspense, and twists as chilling as London’s fog. Now the indomitable duo of Arthur Bryant and John May, along with the rest of their quirky team, return to solve a confounding case with dark ties to the British theater and a killer who may mean curtains for all involved. For the crew of the New Strand Theatre, the play The Two Murderers seems less performance than prophecy when a cast party ends in the shocking death of the theater owner’s son. The crime scene is most unusual, even for Bryant and May. In a locked bedroom without any trace of fingerprints or blood, the only sign of disturbance is a gruesome life-size puppet of Mr. Punch laying on the floor. Everyone at the party is a suspect, including the corrupt producer, the rakish male lead, the dour set designer, and the assistant stage manager, who is the wild daughter of a prominent government official. It’s this last fact that threatens the Peculiar Crimes Unit’s investigation, as the government’s Home Office, wary of the team’s eccentric methods, seeks to throw them off the case. But the nimble minds of Bryant and May are not so easily deterred. Delving into the history of the London theater and the disturbing origins of Punch and Judy, the detectives race to find the maniacal killer before he reaches his even deadlier final act.  Whip-smart and endlessly entertaining, The Memory of Blood is an ingeniously intricate mystery from the deliciously inventive Christopher Fowler. Praise for The Memory of Blood   “[ The Memory of Blood ] breathes new life into the locked-room mystery. . . . Spiced with a little screwball-comedy dialogue and a touch of the occult.”— The Washington Post   “Great fun.”— The Seattle Times “[ The Memory of Blood ] breathes new life into the locked-room mystery. . . . spiced with a little screwball-comedy dialogue and a touch of the occult.”— The Washington Post   “Great fun.”— The Seattle Times Praise for the ingenious novels featuring the Peculiar Crimes Unit   “[Christopher] Fowler manipulates the machinery with droll wit. . . . [He’s] a master of classical form.”—Marilyn Stasio, The New York Times Book Review   “Fowler, like his crime-solvers, is deadpan, sly, and always unexpectedly inventive.” —Entertainment Weekly   “Bryant and May are hilarious. Grumpy Old Men does CSI with a twist of Dickens!” —New York Times bestselling author Karen Marie Moning   “Eclectic, eccentric and endlessly entertaining books.”— The Seattle Times   “Fowler reinvents and reinvigorates the traditional police procedural.”— The Boston Globe   “Fowler has few peers when it comes to constructing ingenious . . . plots.”— Publishers Weekly (starred review)   “One of the most delightful series around.”— Library Journa l   “Brilliant.” —The Denver Post Christopher Fowler was the acclaimed author of the award-winning Peculiar Crimes Unit mysteries: Full Dark House, The Water Room, Seventy-Seven Clocks, Ten Second Staircase, White Corridor, The Victoria Vanishes, Bryant & May on the Loose, Bryant & May off the Rails, The Memory of Blood, The Invisible Code, Bryant & May and the Bleeding Heart, Bryant & May and the Burning Man, Bryant & May: Strange Tide, Bryant & May: Wild Chamber, Bryant & May: Hall of Mirrors, Bryant & May: The Lonely Hour, Bryant & May: Oranges & Lemons, Bryant & May: London Bridge Is Falling Down, and Bryant & May: Peculiar London. In 2015 Fowler won the coveted Crime Writers’ Association Dagger in the Library Award in recognition for his body of work. Christopher Fowler died in 2023. ONE Chamber of Horrors Arthur Bryant stood there pretending not to shiver. He was tightly wrapped in a 1951 Festival of Britain scarf, with a Bloody Mary in one hand and a ketchup-crusted cocktail sausage in the other. Above his head, a withered yellow corpse hung inside a rusting gibbet iron. 'Well,' he said, 'this is nice, isn't it?' His partner, John May, was not so consoled. The great chamber was freezing. Rain was pattering into an array of galvanised buckets. The smell of mildewed brickwork assailed his nostrils. A few feet behind him, the Witchfinder General Matthew Hopkins was stabbing a thin- bladed knife into a screaming priest, looking for the marks of the Devil. On the other side of the detectives stood a torture rack and several members of the Spanish Inquisition clad in crimson robes, armed with flaming brands and scourges. 'You could have made an effort and put on a clean jacket, instead of that ratty old overcoat,' said May. 'You look like a character from Toad of Toad Hall.' 'This is Harris Tweed,' said Bryant, fingering a frayed hole in his soup-stained sleeve. 'It was handed down to me by my grandfather.' 'Was that before or after he passed away?' 'Funny you should say that. He died in it. Gave himself a heart attack trying to get the lid off a jar of gherkins. My grandmother thought it was a pit