Has this ever happened to you? You re-read a book you remember really disliking, only this time you can’t recall what it was that put you off. What you are reading flows really well and keeps you engaged. Was it you? A bad mood, say, or an uncomfortable chair?
This happened to me with Calypso, a novel I remember being a nadir of my previous jaunt through the 87th Precinct. But blow me down; what a strong start! It has what you look for in a police procedural: a compelling murder victim, a sense of authentic urgency and sundry aspects of police process brought in with smooth clarity.
Then with no warning it takes a hard left into Silence Of The Lambs territory, with a crazy subplot that more or less renders all prior conventional police work meaningless. This isn’t the worst 87th Precinct novel; it does pull one in. But it may just be the most disjointed.