“I’ve worked with seriously disturbed individuals a number of times. We just don’t call them disturbed, we call them celebrities.”

The saga of Stewart Hoag continues with The Man Who Loved Women to Death, an outstanding entry in the series, in my opinion. The usual template for a Stewart Hoag story is for him to take a job ghost-writing a memoir for some fictional celebrity. Then a murder happens, and he helps the police solve it, with the assistance of his cartoon-worthy basset hound, Lulu.

But this one is different. He gets a letter from an unknown (and anonymous) writer, asking him to take a look at the first chapter of his murder novel-in-progress. Hoagy is impressed with the promise of the work – but his reaction turns to horror when a young woman is found murdered the next day – killed in exactly the same manner, and with exactly the name, as in the story.

What makes it worse is that certain hints in the manuscript – including the typewriter used, a familiar one to Hoagy – point to the writer being an old friend of his. Tuttle Cash was once a famous athlete, an Ivy League hero who qualified for the major leagues. Now he’s a drug-addicted empty suit, greeting customers at a bar named after him (but not owned by him). With years and failure he has grown bitter and very mean. Nevertheless, Hoagy can’t bring himself to name him to the police, because Tuttle saved his life once.

Author David Handler performs a very nice trick with his Stewart Hoag books. On the surface they’re light mysteries, starring a supercilious modern gentleman hero with a fedora full of opinions on fashion, food, music, and entertainment. Supported by a too-cute doggie companion.

But underneath all that, we discover perceptive stories about very human, very flawed characters, described with considerable sympathy. I was particularly moved in this book by one of them, a beautiful, fragile, abused woman who broke my heart. But there are lots of others.

Recommended. Cautions, as usual, for language and adult themes.