A soft-shoe suspense story in which Jacobs, a man of little evils, meets a larger one -- murder -- his own. He was an accountant who worked for Henderson, an importer of hashish, who commissioned his death and Trevor, an American journalist, a very tired man with a ""face like a ghetto,"" is reluctantly committed to helping the dead man after the fact. The situation is stronger than the story itself as Trevor and Henderson spend the days and nights in a cat and mouse, watch and wait, symbiosiS; Trevor is rightly sure that Henderson is trying to kill him; Henderson becomes more and more unsettled after the receipt of a picture -- a final take of the dead man. Dobyns (a poet) is a very good writer and this will remind you of Le Carre -- everything is oppressively overcast in brumous shades of gray. Perhaps not for your active ones, but the tenacious detente is effective.