This book is supposed to be great. It says so right on the cover. It reads: “Reminiscent of Henning Mankell and Stieg Larsson in it’s toughness… worthy of Ingmar Bergman – but with lots more guns. -Kirkus”

Well, I’m on page 117 and so far it’s a COMPLETE BORE and there is not a SINGLE likable character, except maybe the dead guy. No kidding, a hundred pages in and only ONE thing has actually happened. I know that this book is supposed to be a fictionalization of the Olaf Palme murder, but so far I’m getting nothing but tedious exposition about dickheaded police officers. It is awful.

I’m hoping there’s a payoff for all of this, but I’m afraid that for now I’m putting the book away. I’ll come back to it later.
Or maybe never.

We’ll see.

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