Ten years after the events of 'The List Of Seven' Conan Doyle is enjoying the success of his Sherlock Holmes stories. His trip to America finds him up to his neck with faces from his past, and another mystery involving the theft of religious books.
I read the 'The List Of Seven' some years ago and remember enjoying it, if not recalling exactly how things turned out. There's a lot of good here, interesting characters. There are perhaps too many, vying for attention.
The relationship between the actress and the rabbi was effective and they perhaps would have made for more interesting leads than the rather ineffectual Conan Doyle.
Unfortunately the author doesn't give anyone anything to do - apart from all heading towards the Arizona desert. There are no surprises, some action, but for all the travelling, there's not a sense of things coming to a climax, just a sense of an opportunity missed. There's also an irritating switch between characters point of view in the same passages, something the editor should have picked up on.
A disappointment, because it could have been great but perhaps the author didn't know what to do with what he had.