The theft is crude, quick, and stunning: King Tutankhamon – yes, THAT King Tut – was snatched from his eternal resting place in the Valley of the Kings and spirited away by parties unknown. Well, hopefully unknown; Vicky isn't the only one who at one point (or throughout the entirety of the book, truth be told) suspects that her errant love, John Tregarth (known as John Smythe in the criminal world), may have had a hand or two in the abduction. A friend in the Egyptian artifacts world, Feisal – whom many will recall from the previous novel, Last Train to Memphis - reports the crime to Vicky and John, in the back of his mind hoping John had indeed orchestrated the crime so that Feisal can return Tut before Feisal's job is lost due to the disaster.

John leads Vicky blindly through several European cities, supposedly meeting with acquaintances of his new, legitimate career in antiquities dealing. Eventually, accompanied by Vicky's boss, the jolly Herr Schmidt, the three make their way to Egypt. A head of the antiquities sector of the government who happens to be a cousin of Feisal's has in the meantime received a part of Tut with a ransom demand.

John wants to clear his name — or so he says, Vicky wants to stay the heck away from mummies in general (she doesn't see the point in wasting lives on dead things), and Schmidt is in it to get back at his girlfriend. Then people start dying and all of a sudden, things are much more serious than how they started, even to the rabid Egyptologists in the pack.

To top it all off for everybody, John wanders off, as is his wont, and doesn't come back, leaving no word. So much for clearing his name and proving to Vicky that he hasn't been lying for the past year (not that she's worried about that, of course not, why would she be ...).

Swarming with Peters' usual wit and dry humor, Laughter of Dead Kings is not quite a cozy mystery (between the "vices" and "distractions", the innuendo, and the occasional gory detail), but it's pretty close. The mystery is sound and traditional, not enough to stump a lot of people probably, but it will certainly keep readers entertained. Previous adventures are mentioned, but it's evident that the author has kept in mind that the average person isn't likely to re-read thirty years' worth of books before they pick up the latest Vicky installment, so don't worry about doing so; or, if you're a first-timer, don't feel it necessary to go back right away (although I would highly recommend doing so in the future just for the enjoyment of it).

The only thing that disappointed me about Laughter of Dead Kings was the lack of Roseanna. Others who have read Vicky Bliss books will know that she is the heroine of Vicky's soap-opera-like novel-in-progress, the chronicles over which Schmidt is always salivating. And that's trivial, at best (worst?); other than that, the gang's all here, and they're in fine form.

--Sarrah Knight