I did not like this book and resented the time I had to spend in order to finish it! I will try to explain why. As with most, if not all, contributions to the `serial killer' genre it complies with certain conventions; e.g. the world weary cop, the love interest who might `save him from himself', the seedy cast of minor low life characters and, of course, the `whacko' perpetrating the crimes.
It is also characterized by, obviously, painstaking research, much of which is a little too often too conspicuously on show. However, my main gripe is that it is neither that interesting nor that entertaining which are, after all, the main reasons most people begin to read a book in the first place. The prologue goes on forever and the whole thing, rather than building tension in the way that the best of the current exponents of the genre seem capable of doing, it seems to meander along interminably with meeting after meeting during which nothing much gets done or discussed and the same point is made time after time using the same banal dialogue.
I shan't read another of this author's unless there is definitely nothing else available. But, it's not all doom and gloom; thank God I have a couple of Michael Connelly's and James Lee Burke's waiting on the shelf!
And now we find (03/09/12), he has been lauding to the skies his own books as an Amazon reviewer, under the names of Jelly Bean and Nicodemus Jones, and who knows how many others, whilst slamming those of his rivals. Given the outlandishly hyperbolic nature of most of the early favourable reviews he may have a whole family of alter-egos. Why this hasn't been investigated more widely by Amazon goodness only knows but there is still a great deal of evidence left on various 'reviews'!