If Noel Coward or P.G. Wodehouse wrote mysteries, they would probably be very much like the books that Charlotte MacLeod writes, featuring the charming art detective Max Bittersohn and his socially connected wife, Sarah Kelling. There would be lots of style and witty dialogue, people with names like Tweeters Arbuthnot and Calpurnia Zickery, but not much meaty content. MacLeod's latest mystery meringue begins at a fancy Boston wedding staged by Sarah for Max's nephew, where missing rubies, long-lost neighbors, the crash of a hot air balloon, and the discovery of a dead body are last-minute additions to the festivities. Things go downhill from there, with smoke bombs going off, more corpses piling up, and both Max and his 3-year-old son, Davy, soon among the missing. This is the kind of book that requires a dozen pages in the last chapter to explain everything, and that should be read with little finger firmly extended. Fans of Poirot, and of Hammett's Nick and Nora Charles, will be delighted. --Dick Adler