FAT GUYS DON'T WEAR STRIPES

Police corruption, drugs, and Irish politics seem to be the common elements connecting a string of murders--to be unraveled here by a portly homicide sergeant in this police procedural set in Boston. Joe Knight is a crackerjack detective, devoted husband, and reasonably good father. He is, however, grossly overweight and trying to slim down--which leads to a lot of business about food and the rejection or acceptance thereof as he goes about trying to crack a series of murders that began with the dynamiting of a TV news crew. An autopsy of the late female reporter reveals that she was shot before she was blown up. Bullets from the same gun that shot the newslady start to turn up in the bases of other brains. Joe clamps on to the case like a pit bull, ignoring the heavy-handed departmental politics that threaten his investigations. He's all over Boston in a series of disintegrating police vehicles, following up leads and trying to find out who's tailing him in a nice black Camaro. Succeeding murders yield clues that bring Joe closer and closer to unhappy conclusions about a police officer who had once been his closest friend. Not particularly graceful or subtle, but the plot moves along nicely, Joe Knight is a comfortable character, and it's always nice to see Boston.