What makes this particular story special to me (although I love all the little darlings equally, of course) is that it belongs to a specific subgenre: one character relates a story containing a puzzle and another character solves it. It is the first Shanks story of that type I have gotten published, though not for lack of trying.
Here is the opening scene:
“I don’t think my alcohol level is over the legal limit,” said Leopold Longshanks. “I could probably drive home all right. But I figure there’s no point in taking chances.”
“I know,” said the taxi driver. “You’ve told me that three times.”
“Oh.” Shanks considered. “Then maybe I do need a ride.”
You can probably guess that the taxi driver is the one with the story to tell.
You'll notice that both of these series are not only stories-within-stories, but examples of the least-likely-detective syndrome, since Miss Marple and Henry would appear to be the least qualified members of their groups to solve a mystery.
My friend Shanks doesn't qualify for that, of course. He is a reluctant, but highly logical choice for detective. He is so logical, in fact, that he complains the concept is ridiculous: no one could possibly get enough information from a tale-teller to figure out whodunit. Alas, I am cooking the books so he has no choice but to succeed.
And I think I will leave it there. If you want to know more, you know where to find the rest of the tale.