I am way too used to watching "Cold Case Files" and other shows that make it seem like no matter how old the crime, it can be solved. So it is a big disappointment to me not to know who the killer was. That being said, this book is not about who killed Jean Ellroy. It is about how her son dealt with her death and, eventually, her life. And his way of dealing with it is extremely messed up. Talk about your Oedipus complex! And I have to say I am not a fan of the style of writing, but I never could get into the short, blunt sentences filled with cop-speak that seems to pervade mystery novels. It's just not my thing. Plus, the swearing is a bit over the top if you ask me. There are times and places for it, but here it seemed more gratuitous. And the author himself admits most of the things he has done in his life are for show, so you get the feeling he doesn't need all of that crap floating around to get his point across. I expect better than that, but I have high standards. I did like the book, but not enough to pick up his others, no matter how highly they come recommended and no matter how many Oscars are won by the movie versions.