The Johnson Johnson mysteries are witty, intelligent thrillers in glamorous settings amongst the global jet-set and wealthy elite narrated by young professional women drawn into the dangerous affairs of the Intelligence trouble-shooter, and usually feature at least one jaw-dropping and/or incredibly tense set-piece murder attempt. This is no exception, and yet it is also the most weirdly alien one, as the doctor bird of the (other) title, a cool, detached medical practitioner with an extremely trying father who is also chief of a Scottish clan helps a victim of food poisoning only to discover that it was actually a deliberate poisoning and has her life threatened for her efforts. There are three murder suspects running around and at least two of them are seen as marriage prospects for the Doc, even though she doesn't want to get married, unless it's to the Japanese businessman, to spite her hugely racist father, to whom the chieftainship will pass if the Doc doesn't have any issue.

There's a whole weird romantic comedy running through the darker suspense aspect, something Dunnett herself has no problem in accomplishing, but I can't tell if everyone's attitudes are just old-fashioned - this was published in 1970 - or these people - wealthy modern vestiges of crumbled aristocracy - are truly an alien race, particularly in a setting as modern as the latter part of the twentieth century. Everyone seems to think it's perfectly fine and proper to pressure her into marriage for her own good. She admits herself she is emotionally stunted, and at least JJ concedes that if she doesn't need to marry she at least needs a few healthy relationships in her life, which is solid advice. But that's a rare moment of restraint when it comes to interference, and JJ's the worst when it comes to subterfuge and interference anyway. Some of the stuff her father's mistress gets up to is frankly appalling and the real mystery is why a strong-willed young woman like the doctor doesn't frankly kick the crap out of some of them and have them arrested into the bargain. But no, everyone's way too sophisticated for anything as common and mundane as that. Weird.

Or, possibly, it was written using fictional conventions that are indistinguishable from certain behaviours that women were obliged to endure as part of the price of being a woman, even more so as an independent professional woman, and which had to present as comedy because the only alternative was endless rage.