I think the heading of this blog is certainly apposite: a review of a book of that title and a short story about such a premises in Camden Town, London – although, unlike this blog, that doesn’t by any means only deal in fiction.

First, to the book. Tim Sullivan’s most recent novel features the seventh outing for his autistic cop, Detective Sergeant George Cross. In this one, a bookseller has been brutally stabbed to death in his Bristol shop. In due course, because this book does not do hurried, the list of people who might have had a significant motive has run into double figures. Among the reasons the victim may have been offed include very much book-related matters, such as forged signatures, questionable authenticity and the hoarding of sought-after first editions. Cross’s social skills are regularly challenged and challenging but there is no doubt about the quality and thoroughness of his detective work.

His work companion is Josie Ottey, just promoted to Detective Inspector, which has gone down a little unpredictably with Cross. But they have one thing in common: a fairly hearty dislike for their boss. After a very smart piece of work by Cross has left him humiliated, Ottey tells Cross: “It made my day. What am I talking about? My month.” That part of the plot proved to be a red herring but in the end, of course, they get their man. Or woman. You should read it for yourself; I’m not telling.

Walden Books was founded by David Tobin in 1979 when he was 26. He still runs it. It’s open from Thursday to Sunday and it is a treasure trove for book lovers. In a story in the London Standard, David Ellis wrote that “the shop is a record of almost half a century of collecting, exploring, trading and buying, all done by the sole owner, the man who lives upstairs”.

I bought two books there last week. While having lunch with an old friend the previous week, he had mentioned that his daughter had become rather enraptured by the long-ago crime novels of Josephine Tey. While I was rooting around among the shelves outside (it was a fine day) at Walden Books, what should stare back at me but a novel by that woman. Published in 1948, The Franchise Affair duly became mine for £4. The plot is ingenious. Also, in hardback this time, I got hold of a copy of a book I had once possessed but somehow lost – Devices and Desires by P.D. James. Writing in The Times last year, Nicola Upson spoke of an event very early on in the book – “that scene still has the power to terrify me”.

Having now read it again, I wholly agree with her.