His third case pits Special Agent Drew Cady, who thought he’d left the Washington office of the FBI for a quiet desk job with the Medicare Fraud Strike Force in Minneapolis, against the assassin who leaves a eulogy with every corpse.
We’d all like to be well-remembered after death, but few of us get the pre-emptive boost accorded the victims of the contract killer dubbed the Canadian, who’s nice enough to include a duly flattering send-off at every crime scene. The first beneficiary of this largesse seems to be Sen. Taylor Brockman, D-Va., stabbed so neatly in the ribs that the experts think it was a professional hit. But wait: only a week ago, some perp with the exact same M.O. seems to have killed drug-wasted pharmaceuticals scion Thaddeus Jay Aadalen, whom Brockman had gotten pardoned after he was sentenced to 14 years in prison for his involvement in a car accident that resulted in the death of his classmate Evan Sandin. Roped back into the action while he’s on a routine visit to D.C., Cady (The Lynchpin 2014, etc.) questions TJ’s parents: no response, especially from his father, who stepped down as CEO after he suffered an incapacitating stroke. He questions Evan’s father, vindictive retiree Karl Sandin, at his trailer park in Lynchburg: nothing. For better or worse, however, the Canadian is intent on providing new evidence, or at least new crime scenes. Soon after the remarkably similar murder of TJ’s older brother, Colin, who might have been a more steadying influence if he hadn’t been keeping company with major drug dealer Jorge Hierra, Cady and company get a lead that promises a major break in the case—if they can keep the Canadian from breaking them first.
Add a few points for some expertly handled action sequences, subtract a few points for some logical slackness—just why was it so important to leave those eulogies?—and you have, on balance, a pretty average thriller.