Anyone who enjoys reading should have the complete set of Bryant & May books within arm’s reach at all times. There is literally something for everyone in each volume of this clever, informative and entertaining series. Christopher Fowler was already a veteran craftsman when he created this wondrous British sub-universe a couple of decades ago, and somehow he meets and exceeds expectations with each new installment. It doesn’t get any better than this.

This is especially true of ORANGES AND LEMONS, the latest entry in the Peculiar Crimes Unit series. The PCU is a specialized London police team originally created in the 1940s to investigate peculiar crimes that might roil British society if gone unsolved or unchecked. For “peculiar crimes,” think of what John Steed and Emma Peel faced in “The Avengers” television series in the 1960s. Arthur Bryant and John May are the team’s constants. Bryant is a logically illogical technophobe who somehow manages to carry in his voluminous coats and satchels candies that haven’t been manufactured for decades, as well as the odd tool at the most opportune moments. May is his steady, logical foil. They are the tip of a spear comprised of oddball law-enforcement misfits who somehow manage to solve case after case, even while seemingly being on the edge of disbandment by the higher-ups.

"There is a good old-fashioned, puzzling mystery at the heart of the book... However, the pure unadulterated joy of this installment and the ones that precede it rests on the development and interaction of the characters."

ORANGES AND LEMONS begins with May in the hospital recuperating from a near-fatal injury, Bryant off the grid, and the PCU and its offbeat headquarters officially shut down. But events overtake them when one of England’s most prominent politicians is severely injured in what initially appears to be a bizarre accident involving a delivery truck and crates of fruit.

The PCU is reunited for the sole purpose of investigating the victim’s mental state at the time of the incident, but the unit wanders far off its mission when Bryant almost immediately discovers that the injuries incurred were not a result of an accident at all. Subsequent attacks target seemingly unrelated individuals with greater success, with the question being not only “who” but “why.”

As if that were not enough for the PCU’s plate, Bryant engages on a frolic more or less of his own accord as he investigates the suicide of a bookstore owner whose shop was deliberately destroyed by a fire. There is a good old-fashioned, puzzling mystery at the heart of the book, the solution to which can be sorted out to some degree by examining elements of antiquity. However, the pure unadulterated joy of this installment and the ones that precede it rests on the development and interaction of the characters.

As complex, interesting and funny as Bryant and May might be, the primary protagonist here is the city of London itself, both historically and geographically. Fowler, through Bryant, conducts a historical travelogue in the narrative that fascinates and informs, all the while shooting droll one-liners through the pages in rapid-style fashion. While you will be curious to see how things get sorted out, you also will tap your reading brakes so you won’t miss any of the scenery as you head toward the conclusion.

Fans of these books have often wondered why they have never been adapted for a television series. There are a number of excellent British actors of requisite age --- late 70s to early 80s --- who could play the part of Bryant or May against type and do it quite well. But it could not be done without Fowler, whose literary magic shines through, and remarkably so, on every page.