It's Gabriel Lake on his second comedy sci-fi mystery, book two of the Galactic Detective Agency, picking up where A Town Called Potato left off.

A legendary gemstone worth a fortune has been stolen. The GDA team traces the jewel to a secluded luxury hotel on the dead world of Malt where private spaceships aren't allowed and the shuttle arrives only every few days. Then a murder occurs, and all the guests as well as the Galactic Detective Agency crew find themselves trapped with a killer. Can they uncover the murderer? Can they recover the stolen gem? Can the Galactic Detective Agency pull together the clues to solve the mystery of The Maltese Salmon?

EXCERPT FROM THE BOOK:
I scanned the shops along the mall and spotted one that appeared to have clothes on display. I wandered in and began browsing through the racks. I had been hoping to find shirts and pants. Instead I saw all manner of garments cut in every shape and size. Some looked like jumpsuits. Some looked like bib overalls. There were lots of robes in all colors. But finding anything resembling an Earth suit or tuxedo was starting to look unlikely. I stood in the middle of the shop and stared around at it all.

"Ahem. May I be of assistance?" I heard a deep voice at my elbow. I turned and saw a tall, lanky canine figure looking down at me. He was dressed in a long black robe with silver cuffs and collar. It had an embroidered panel in pinks and greens running down the front. He looked like he was ready to sing in the church choir, assuming they let wolfmen sing in the church choir.

"Yes, please. I need clothes for a formal dinner."

"I see," he replied, rubbing his furry chin. "If I may ask, what type of formal dinner? Here on Girsu or somewhere else?"
"The Hotel Amurru."

"Amurru? Oh my We'll have to pull out all the stops." He pulled out a pair of eyeglasses, perched them on his long muzzle, and looked me over while tapping a cheek. "Let's see. Covered with skin. Two arms. Two legs." He leaned around to look behind me. "No tail."

He pulled a measuring tape out of a pocket of the robe and began measuring me, arms, legs, waist, neck, chest, and everywhere else. A few of his measurements made me jump just a little. All the while he kept saying, "Uh-huh. Hmm. Oh my "

He took a step back to study me again, brushing with his paw the already neatly brushed fur on his head. Then he swept past me, calling over his shoulder, "Wait right there. I will be back directly."

The Maltese Salmon: A Space Detective Comedy - heftet, Engelsk, 2020