by Lawrence Block
Scudder’s Irish gangster friend Mick Ballou hires Scudder to investigate
who may be out to move in on his territory, or perhaps kill him. Matt
starts asking questions, and... everybody dies. Well, not quite
everybody, but there’s a considerable death count. This book follows the
pattern set by the previous three — disappointing, thrilling,
disappointing and now thrilling again.
Yes, this time around I
again guessed at the villain’s identity (though to be fair this wasn’t
as obvious and labored as in Even the Wicked). But the danger imbued on
each page, the sense that the axe could fall anywhere this time except
perhaps on Scudder himself, mitigates the transparency of the “mystery.”
Besides, this situation isn’t presented as a whodunit — it’s simply too
chaotic and rapid — so even if the identity of the man they’re looking
for is apparent, that doesn’t redound with bad credit on Scudder. I was a
bit disappointed with the book’s final coda, but other than that, it’s a
solid thriller, an enthralling look at a world of pure violence.
five stars
[Read three times: 7/1/03, 12/16/05, 1/2/08]
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