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They keep moving NYPD's Lieutenant Ben Tolliver around—now he's in Special Investigations—but it doesn't matter; all he keeps drawing are serial sex killers like Edward Razek. Razek is a real romantic. He brings flowers and a condom to his tryst with Jan Peterson, then shares some soothing endearments with her before he rapes and strangles her. His motive? For one thing, he's a hardcase nutcase—something the cheeseheads at the Stanipac Hospital for the Criminally Insane were too lily-livered to realize when they declared him completely cured nine years after his last little experiment in homicide. But besides having some unresolved hostility toward women, Razek's got a grudge against Tolliver, who arrested him last time, and is determined to frame him for his current spate of killings. Tolliver, of course, isn't taking Razek's behavior lying down; he immediately recognized the signature postmortem treatment of Jan Peterson's corpse. But when he confronts his quarry, Razek, now a wildly successful commodities trader whose boss suspects nothing, laughs in his face. It's the old race between the dogged cop and the game-playing killer—a race that's handicapped by the fact that the killer, even though his alter ego, ``the thing,'' tells him that he's ``the number-one player of all time,'' is only moderately clever in executing his murderous plans, and Tolliver, who ought to realize what he's up against, isn't much smarter. The real handicap, though, is Harvey's dependably penny-dreadful writing, which purges every character of the slightest subtlety (Razek is a comic-strip bogeyman, his psychiatrists a bunch of wimps who think Megan's Law is unconstitutional, Tolliver's newscaster girlfriend a good- looking cipher stenciled Threaten Me Last) that might make this familiar saga worth caring about. Not as floridly sadistic as Tolliver's other cases (Mental Case, 1996, etc.), but still no place you'd want to spend a weekend.

Pub Date: May 27, 1997

ISBN: 0-312-15100-4

Page Count: 304

Publisher: Dunne/St. Martin's

Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010

Kirkus Reviews Issue: April 1, 1997

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Forget about solving all these crimes; the signal triumph here is (spoiler) the heroine’s survival.

Another sweltering month in Charlotte, another boatload of mysteries past and present for overworked, overstressed forensic anthropologist Temperance Brennan.

A week after the night she chases but fails to catch a mysterious trespasser outside her town house, some unknown party texts Tempe four images of a corpse that looks as if it’s been chewed by wild hogs, because it has been. Showboat Medical Examiner Margot Heavner makes it clear that, breaking with her department’s earlier practice (The Bone Collection, 2016, etc.), she has no intention of calling in Tempe as a consultant and promptly identifies the faceless body herself as that of a young Asian man. Nettled by several errors in Heavner’s analysis, and even more by her willingness to share the gory details at a press conference, Tempe launches her own investigation, which is not so much off the books as against the books. Heavner isn’t exactly mollified when Tempe, aided by retired police detective Skinny Slidell and a host of experts, puts a name to the dead man. But the hints of other crimes Tempe’s identification uncovers, particularly crimes against children, spur her on to redouble her efforts despite the new M.E.’s splenetic outbursts. Before he died, it seems, Felix Vodyanov was linked to a passenger ferry that sank in 1994, an even earlier U.S. government project to research biological agents that could control human behavior, the hinky spiritual retreat Sparkling Waters, the dark web site DeepUnder, and the disappearances of at least four schoolchildren, two of whom have also turned up dead. And why on earth was Vodyanov carrying Tempe’s own contact information? The mounting evidence of ever more and ever worse skulduggery will pull Tempe deeper and deeper down what even she sees as a rabbit hole before she confronts a ringleader implicated in “Drugs. Fraud. Breaking and entering. Arson. Kidnapping. How does attempted murder sound?”

Forget about solving all these crimes; the signal triumph here is (spoiler) the heroine’s survival.

Pub Date: March 17, 2020

ISBN: 978-1-9821-3888-2

Page Count: 352

Publisher: Scribner

Review Posted Online: Dec. 22, 2019

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Jan. 15, 2020

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Irritatingly trite woman-in-periler from lawyer-turned-novelist Baldacci. Moving away from the White House and the white-shoe Washington law firms of his previous bestsellers (Absolute Power, 1996; Total Control, 1997), Baldacci comes up with LuAnn Tyler, a spunky, impossibly beautiful, white-trash truck stop waitress with a no-good husband and a terminally cute infant daughter in tow. Some months after the birth of Lisa, LuAnn gets a phone call summoning her to a make-shift office in an unrented storefront of the local shopping mall. There, she gets a Faustian offer from a Mr. Jackson, a monomaniacal, cross-dressing manipulator who apparently knows the winning numbers in the national lottery before the numbers are drawn. It seems that LuAnn fits the media profile of what a lottery winner should be—poor, undereducated but proud—and if she's willing to buy the right ticket at the right time and transfer most of her winnings to Jackson, she'll be able to retire in luxury. Jackson fails to inform her, however, that if she refuses his offer, he'll have her killed. Before that can happen, as luck would have it, LuAnn barely escapes death when one of husband Duane's drug deals goes bad. She hops on a first-class Amtrak sleeper to Manhattan with a hired executioner in pursuit. But executioner Charlie, one of Jackson's paid handlers, can't help but hear wedding bells when he sees LuAnn cooing with her daughter. Alas, a winning $100- million lottery drawing complicates things. Jackson spirits LuAnn and Lisa away to Sweden, with Charlie in pursuit. Never fear. Not only will LuAnn escape a series of increasingly violent predicaments, but she'll also outwit Jackson, pay an enormous tax bill to the IRS, and have enough left over to honeymoon in Switzerland. Too preposterous to work as feminine wish-fulfillment, too formulaic to be suspenseful. (Book-of-the-Month Club main selection)

Pub Date: Dec. 2, 1997

ISBN: 0-446-52259-7

Page Count: 528

Publisher: N/A

Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Oct. 15, 1997

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