WHITE SANDS

Cold-blooded Colombian cocaine smugglers, scheming American yuppie slime, a befuddled Bahamian adolescent, and a feisty feminist schoolteacher make work for Patrick Trent, a retired MI5 assassin who's now a full-time Bahamian boat bum. Gandolfi's US hardcover debut is actually the fourth in a series published in Britain about the brooding Trent, who would rather spend his days fishing on his ultimate bachelor pad catamaran, the Golden Girl. A bearded Travis Magee type with killer instincts (and deep guilt about the nasty things he used to do for Queen and country), Trent is persuaded by the tall, skeletal Chief Superintendent of the Royal Bahamian Constabulary, known on the islands by his nickname, Skelley, to offer unofficial assistance in finding the fiend who tortured and murdered an adolescent Bahamian boy. The trail leads to a botched cocaine deal that another boy may have witnessed, a pack of vicious drug smugglers, shady American DEA agents, and an angry but beautiful Bahamian schoolteacher, Charity Johnston, whose hate-at-first-sight relationship with Trent will blossom, as these things must, into a vigorously sexual love. While the formula's familiar, Gandolfi folds in an impressive knowledge of sailing lore, reef fauna, weaponry, and far-from- Margaritavilletypes lurking just outside the islands' carefully maintained tourist compounds. Gandolfi also uses Johnston as a mouthpiece for xenophobic, predominantly anti-American sentiments that, while they seem justified in light of the villainy Gandolfi reports, serve to slow his otherwise breezy, grimly naturalistic narrative. With far too many crooks in the batter, the plot pushes a quietly suffering Trent toward an unconvincing, James Bond-ish climax. A preachy but strongly wrought manhunt with sharply detailed mayhem and a vivid, lengthy catalogue of sweaty bad guys nasty enough to make tourists want to stay in their hotel rooms with the air conditioning turned way up.