The latest. I loved the expansiveness of the opening; apart from a stolen tractor and some blood in a disused aircraft hangar, there isn’t a clear crime for about the first 100 pages. But the obverse is that the ending was all a bit rushed, as all the plot strands needed to be squeezed together to squirt out a tidy ending, a bit like a sausage machine (talking of which this is not a book for the faint hearted carnivore).
I like a lot about Peter Robinson, although he can be quite annoying "The cheese was served at room temperature, as it should be"; the hero Banks seems now to be surrounded by his own harem of attractive women he has met and picked up in previous books. No wonder Annie Cabott is a bit pissed off.
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