Laura Restrepo is one of my favourite Latin American authors, and, despite the naff cover, this is a deep and satisfying psychological thriller. A husband returns from a four day business trip, having left his wife painting the house, only to find her eventually, on his return, in a hotel room, quite mad, and with total memory loss. This is his search for what happened to her while he was away, and the narrative, besides evoking the chaos and stress of modern day Columbia, leads the husband from clue to clue, some of which, though they seem ridiculous at first, turn out to be terrifying. The author is especially good at reproducing the speech patterns of the male narrator, as though he was telling you the story in a bar. (The translator has done a neat job of cutting though some of the ambiguities of the original text: the first person narrator, for instance, refers to himself most of the time in the third person, and by name. The translator has subtituted that name (Aguilar) for the first person "I". This immediately eliminates some of the initial confusion on starting this book and makes for an easier read, but does reduce the sense of "this is what happened to me" of the original.) This is a great read, from an author who never repeats the same genre twice.