I'm not sure I've ever had so little to say about a book I've read than what I do about The Trouble with Harry by Jack Trevor Story. "Eh."
I didn't like it, I didn't hate it. No, the real problem is this: I didn't get it. I suppose my mind isn't wired to fully appreciate farce. I can't stop thinking how much easier it would all be if they'd just do the logical thing and call the police. I remember having pretty much the same reaction to Hitchcock's version. It was okay, had some funny bits, but the humor wasn't broad enough for me to forget the ridiculousness of it all. Overall it was a movie I was happy to say I'd seen so I'd never have to watch it again. Exactly how I feel about the book.