Private detectives Patrick Kenzie and Angie Gennaro are hired on to do what seems like a simple job – find a black cleaning lady that disappeared with some important documents. But suddenly they find themselves caught up in something more. Something that could kill both of them.
I picked this up because I enjoy Dennis Lehane’s writing and was looking for a new series since I just finished the last published book in Tana French’s series. This completely fit what I was looking for: flawed characters that delve into the dark side of humanity. This one being focused primarily on racial tensions.
Finding someone to blame. You’re white and can’t get a job? Blame affirmative action. Can’t get one and you’re black? Blame the white man. Fucking whole country’s filled with nasty, unhappy, confused, pissed-off people, and not one of them with the brain power to honestly deal with their situation.
Although this book was written some time ago in 1994, the truths are still scarily true today, which is the sign of a good book.
We listen to politicians who fuel our hate and our narrow views and tell us it’s simply a matter of getting back to basics while they sit in their beachfront properties and listen to the surf so they won’t have to hear the screams of the drowning.
They don’t respect us because we are their molested children. They fuck us morning, noon, and night, but as long as they tuck us in with a kiss, we close our eyes and go to sleep, trading our bodies, our souls, for the comforting veneers of “civilization” and “security,” the false idols of our twentieth-century wet dream.
The characters are also real, and I thoroughly enjoyed the banter between Angie and Patrick. I’ll definitely continue to book 2.