Another easy read book for the Tesco queue. Not a Wexford book but I thought this was better- Wexford is annoyingly English middle class and also annoyingly omniscient for me.
This is one of her (I think many?) books about psychotic killers and it is beautifully written and conceived – Arthur Johnson, an embittered and psychotic lower middle class Englishman finds he has a new neighbour in his run down bedsit flat called Anthony Johnson, a student studying criminal psychosis, along with various other typical bedsit occupants.
Brilliantly plotted, except for the ending which, like so many books, is artificial and imposed, as if the writer was told they have to finish the book in a limited number of pages and introduces (here) 2 dei ex machina to bring the story to a close. These didn’t work for me, but in other respects a brilliant book.
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