At 9:14 on a Tuesday evening, the detachment receives a call reporting that a man has suffered "an artistic disagreement." He has, in fact, suffered a fondue fork.
Inspector Jacques Garrett has twenty-two years of service, wet boots, and a headache. What he does not have is a horse, a passable suspect, or a road out.
The fondue set in the kitchen holds six forks. Four remain in the case. One is in the deceased. The sixth is somewhere in a house full of people who have all independently decided, within the same ten minutes, that the truth is optional.
What follows is a night of blizzard rules, brandy, a brass turtle sitting an inch and a half off its mark, and a coroner who refuses to be pinned on anything before morning - leading to a solution that is not one person doing one terrible thing, but four people each doing one small, ugly, entirely human thing.
A deadpan comic murder mystery in eight chapters, complete with a fondue recipe from the only credible witness in the
house.