A murder mystery involving the art world, with murders being staged to look like famous paintings and all the victims artists, collectors, dealers, museum directors, or gallery owners, is an intriguing and largely successful concept here, and Santlofer's own background as an artist gives him an insider's view of the intricacies of the business. The action is non-stop, with an amazing 8 - 10 deaths, some of them bizarre and truly ghoulish, as art historian Kate McKinnon Rothstein tries to outwit a clever killer by identifying the paintings the killer is imitating in his murderous tableaux. At least four red herrings and one car chase keep Kate and the reader occupied between murders, while the action moves from Manhattan penthouses to Hell's Kitchen, Long Island, and even Venice for the Bienale.
Unfortunately, the writing is formulaic, and the reader must wade through dozens of clichés, much wooden dialogue, and "push-button images" in order to enjoy the mystery. The clichés begin with the opening sentence-"Even before it all went bad she had the feeling it was going to be a rotten day"-and continue as the characters are introduced. Willie is "sick and tired of being referred to as a 'black artist.' I'm an artist. Period." William Mason Pruitt, president of the Board of the Museum of Contemporary Art, is a conservative, we understand--he is described as a friend of Jesse Helms, and he wears a Yale tie.
Kate McKinnon Rothstein comes from an ordinary background, something we know because her mother is depicted wearing a "J.C.Penney dress," while Kate wears designer clothes, $400 shoes, lives in a 12-room penthouse, and carries a Prada purse. And which of these characters do you think is the senior curator at the Museum of Contemporary Art--Floyd Brown or Schuyler Mills? Similes and metaphors are of the "he yelped like a pup" and "...spreading faster than a fungus in the rainforest" variety. The excitement here is obviously more visual than literary, and one can imagine this novel becoming a successful, if bloody, film. Mary Whipple