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400 pages, Paperback
First published April 9, 2019

... my brain felt like a half lemon in a bartender's fist.The David Goodis noir talk is evident:
"Look, I really don't remember. We just spoke for a few minutes. About nothing at all really. Girl talk. Men. This place. How the cockatoos shit on the tables in the other room. I don't know."One might also pick up a whiff of the world-weary Hammett:
I amused her and she amused me and we were like two fencers trying each other out with foils because that's how it is between men and women sometimes; it's fun not saying what you mean and not meaning what you say.This is the type of detective novel that unexpectedly curveballs you with insight:
"Can you imagine how much of existence would be impossible if people didn't believe in a certain amount of luck in the face of all evidence to the contrary? The true essence of human life is delusion."And it certainly helps in the vocabulary-building department:
"What's the twenty-mark word for this particular perversion?" Angerstein asked the mistress. "Algolagnia?"With all of that, Kerr maintains a unique, distinctive voice of his own, deftly steering a story that could easily have been murky as well as lurid. He's a born storyteller.
