The eighth novel in the Pendergast series pits the modern Sherlock against an evil that even his pedantry and self-discipline cannot defeat. One might class even a portion of this novel as emulating Greek tragedy since the nemesis proves, in many ways, to be one’s own ego. That portion of the mystery is fascinating, even though the careful reader can see the two authors (Preston and Child) placing the tendrils to the web early and often. I particularly liked the use of Constance Greene in this novel, Pendergast’s ward. Her motivation and the eventual revelations concerning her make her more than the convenient female Robin to Pendergast’s Batman, Bucky to Pendergast’s Captain America. Indeed, there are places in this book where Pendergast’s Captain America wholesomeness and typical altruistic aura falls away like overripe fruit. If for nothing else, those scenes are worth the price of admission.
The book opens in a Tibetan monastery. Not only is this appropriate to how the mystery will unravel (and I use the verb purposefully) but it offers an incredibly well-rendered setting for the events and conversations which occur within this mysterious venue. Several twists away from the expected occur in these early scenes which set the stage for the big surprise (at least to me) at the end. On the other hand, the big surprise at the end seemed telegraphed to me at the end of the last book.

Another venue is a super luxury passenger liner. During certain descriptions in this portion of the novel, I almost had to look at the cover to be certain that I wasn’t reading Clive Cussler. Unlike Cussler, however, the emphasis was less on the technology of the vessel and more on the actual operation of the vessel, including passenger operations. Naturally, this provided an opportunity for an excursus into a card-counting scenario that allowed Agent Pendergast to show his stuff.

By far the most satisfying aspect of this adventure was seeing the psychological effect of the macguffin on its victims. Portions of this read like descriptions in a Stephen King novel (at least, in Needful Things), but they are worth considering. The most dissatisfying aspect of this adventure was a supernatural phenomenon which was not explained. Normally, there is some rational explanation for those aspects of the Pendergast novels which seem, at first, inexplicable. Here, however, the authors leave the understanding open. I usually like open-ended phenomena, but I’m not used to seeing such a diabolus ex machina in the work of these authors. As a result, it drops my rating, but not my enthusiasm for the series as a whole.