Miss Melville

Manhattan's art scene in the 1980s is full of backstabbers, but Miss Melville regards this as needlessly messy. She prefers to use a gun-and she uses it well, in this darkly funny series perfect for fans of Richard Osman's Thursday Murder Club. Life is full of surprises. Susan Melville, for example, was raised to marry well, but when the Melville millions went South, she turned to...let's call it freelance problem-solving in order to pay the rent. Bluntly? She became a hired killer. Surprise! And now, surprisingly, her little watercolors have found an audience. Miss Melville can join the world of museums and artistes, and bid adieu to the grubby realm of hitmen and...hitwomen. Hitpeople? A shining, law-abiding life will be hers, she is certain-until another artist drops dead, the police get the story wrong, and Miss Melville is forced, yet again, to step in and tidy things up.

Good breeding simply doesn't pay the rent anymore. And while Miss Melville has bucketloads of breeding, she finds herself somewhat...lacking, shall we say, when it comes to finances. Distinctly lacking. Her rich friends are no help; they think "broke" means having to buy a smaller yacht. What is an impoverished gentlewoman to do? Become a killer for hire, of course. But Miss Melville (who prefers the term "hitwoman") doesn't take just any job, no matter how well paid. That kind of sordid money-grubbing is beneath contempt. No, she reserves her talents for those who...let's say those who really deserve them. It's true, her ancestors would roll in their graves at the thought of Miss Melville working-and for a paycheck, my dear! But finger sandwiches and opera tickets don't come cheap: One does what one must.