I used to read crime mysteries by the dozen but this book by Jonathan Kellerman has made me wonder why. Halfway through the book I found the rhythm of each chapter opening with Alex Delaware, a psychologist who helps the L.A. police solve murders, and his police friend, Milo, interviewing or reinterviewing someone for half of the chapter and then the two of them having a conversation full of maybes, perhaps, might haves, and other signs of red herrings. Next chapter, next interview.
The other thing that got me was the lack of subject in many sentences, and not just in the conversations.
"Over the years I've accompanied Milo to lots of taverns and beer joints and cocktail lounges. A couple of gay bars as well. It's an illuminating experience watching him function in that sphere.
This was a new dive, a narrow, dark tunnel of a place called Jody Z's, at the southern edge of Pacific, just above the Marina. Arena rock on the jukebox, silent football rerun on TV, tired men at the urethane bar, rough paneling and fishnets and glass globes.
Plastic sawdust on the floor. What was the point of that?"
This murder mystery takes place in Los Angeles and does nothing to dispell the notion that L.A. is full of nutcakes; very rich, very bizarre, very egocentric nutcakes. I quickly lost interest in these characters. I neither warmed to them nor was I glad when the perp was arrested, just very relieved I finished the book. I am very familiar of Mr. Kellerman's name but when I read through the list (a quite long one) of titles, I could not remember if I had read any of them or not.
Mr. Kellerman is a very popular writer with many fans. Maybe I didn't read this book at the right time or I have just read my fill of mysteries and this one was the overflow.
My rating for this book: ++