Steve Fisher can write. There's no doubt about it. The pacing of the book is excellent, but it's marred by it's cartoonish female characters, each on more two-dimensional (and stupid) than the next—Cottontop scrapes her way to something resembling a character arc by the end, but it doesn't make up for the other two.

I was hoping for a clever ending to match the set up, but was let down by what felt like a cheat. Maybe if I knew more about craps I could argue its authenticity. But, as it's no longer 1958, I doubt there are many who can.