Monday, January 07, 2008

Labyrinth, by Bill Pronzini

I wasn't crazy about this one. The overarching theme is that sometimes coincidences are just ... coincidental. What a weird thing in a mystery novel, where there are NO coincidences allowed.

So this finds Our Hero-Without-a-Name being called to the site of a homicide investigation because the police have found his business card in her purse. He's never seen her. Over the course of trying to sort out what's going on, he is hired by a family to babysit one of their members (an adult intent on harming himself), his office is vandalized, and he nearly gets drowned AND shot by bootleggers.

Not a bad book, just not my favorite.

No comments:

Post a Comment