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Settled into married life, sober, and finally a legit private eye (the state granted his license), Scudder is prepared to become a respectable high-priced detective working for New York City lawyers. But when his old buddy, Mick Ballou, comes to him because two of his runners end up murdered, Scudder finds himself sinking back into the muck of the underworld. While dodging thugs who are out to put a stop to his investigation, Scudder must figure out who has it in for Ballou.
The writing in this novel is elegant--equally supple in describing the gibbous moon as it is in sorting out Scudder's feelings on the murder of a close friend, or when recounting a rather gory eye plucking. The dialogue is snappy and true to life. Lawrence Block once again proves he's worthy of the title Grand Master of Mystery. So be sure to set aside a chunk of time before you sit down to read this novel, because you're not going to be able to tear yourself away. --Jenny Brown
Then all hell breaks loose.
Scudder quickly discovers the spruced-up sidewalks are as mean as ever, dark and gritty and stained with blood. He's living in a world where the past is a minefield, the present is a war zone, and the future's an open question. It's a world where nothing is certain and nobody's safe, a random universe where no one's survival can be taken for granted. Not even his own.
A world where everybody dies.
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