The Cold Moon - Jeffery Deaver

Has Lincoln Rhyme finally met his match? It's sort of looking like it, since the latest serial killer to stalk the streets of the Big Apple has proven extremely difficult to run to ground. This one calls himself The Watchmaker, an appellation that's most appropriate: every operation is planned with the precision of a jeweled Swiss movement, not to mention his signature practice of leaving a clock at each scene. That "gift" of a clock, though, is pretty much the only thing the Watchmaker leaves at the scene: besides being an obvious fan of precision, he's also a fan of cleanliness. This is one clean dude. No fibers, hairs, stray drops of saliva; no nothing to help Rhyme and his team of Detective Amelia Sachs and Patrolman Ron Pulaski pull their customary Sherlockian rabbit out of the hat. And with Rhyme and compatriots stymied, it looks as though The Cold Moon will shine down on more victims even as New York slides deeper into winter.

Perhaps Detective Sachs is a bit distracted – she's concurrently running her first murder case as principal investigator instead of crime scene tech (a crime scene tech with forensic superpowers, but a crime scene tech nonetheless). What had once seemed a cut-and-dried suicide began looking less so when Sachs realized that the dead man couldn't have tied a hangman's noose with his broken thumb. Oops: looks like murder after all. But is her investigation into "The Other Case" interfering with her hunt for the Watchmaker? She doesn't think so, but Rhyme's not so certain.

When a potential witness at a Watchmaker scene proves reluctant, Rhyme grudgingly allows the team to reach out to a visiting firewoman for help. California cop Kathryn Dance, expert in kinesics, helps the team turn a critical corner with her almost psychic-seeming interrogation technique. Her results prove so valuable that Rhyme and company keep calling her back time and again – until the encounter that cracks the case wide open: Dance "innocently" meets with the Watchmaker's running buddy, a morbidly obese serial rapist. Looks like it's all over but the shouting… except there are still two hundred pages left in the book. It appears that Rhyme – and the reader – still have a few surprises coming…


In this, the seventh installment in the Lincoln Rhyme series (which also includes The Bone Collector, The Empty Chair, The Vanished Man, and The Twelfth Card), Deaver displays his own signature features much like his fictitious serial killer's clocks. The first is the return of the irascible – dare I say "curmudgeonly"? – yet likable Lincoln Rhyme, quadriplegic criminology consultant to the NYPD, and his team. Besides Sachs and Pulaski, expect to hear the usual mixture of insults and admiration from Detectives Bell and Selitto, plus Rhyme's caregiver Thom; and look forward to a brief visit from FBI contact Fred Dellray. Then there's the infinite cunning of Rhyme's opponent – in this case a man who approaches his task with all the deception and planning of a chess grand master; a man who may yet prove Rhyme's equal. And, as in past installments of the series, Deaver once again introduces an outsider, a character with critical expertise to share; this time in the person of Kathryn Dance and her kinesics ("…the interpretation of body language such as facial expressions and gestures – or more formally, non-verbal behaviour [sic] related to movement, either of any part of the body or the body as a whole": Wikipedia). As always, Deaver also demonstrates a firm grasp of several topics, a grasp based on prodigious research: watch-making and kinesics are among them this time around.

As much as Rhyme's irascibility, super-cunning villains, and his own broad-ranging knowledge may be counted as Deaver signatures, however; one other facet of his novels stands out even more. That's his intricate style of work, his writing replete with plot twists – some of which are so sudden and so unexpected as to induce a form of psychological whiplash. I like to think of it as a form of literary "brain freeze." For fans of that aspect of Deaver's talent, The Cold Moon can certainly be considered a rousing success.

Yet this time Deaver's signature – the ineluctable, neck-wrenching plot twist – might well be the weakest point of The Cold Moon. By leavening his plot with a bit of deus ex machina and a well-timed visit from the Coincidence Fairy, Deaver may have crossed the shadowy line separating good writers from great – and crossed it headed the wrong direction. With a colossal plot twist that sucker-punches the reader ten chapters from the end, The Cold Moon might well strain the willing suspension of disbelief for readers, rendering a factor so critical to the success of a plot ineffective. It's not that Deaver hasn't done the whiplash thing before – his revelation of the identity of the killer in The Bone Collector is a case in point. It's merely that this time he seems to be forcing matters in an effort to pen a Moriarity-style character for his modern-day Holmes (ADA or no).


As I've said before, however, even when he's not at his best, Jeffery Deaver still rises head and shoulders above the crowd. His "average" effort would be superlative for most – and The Cold Moon is no exception: it's as far above the pedestrian cat and kitchen mysteries as Derek Jeter is above my coed softball team. Well, maybe not that far, but close. Read it. Read it and enjoy it!





Other Rhyme Novels:
The Vanished Man and The Twelfth Card

Also by Jeffery Deaver:
The Blue Nowhere and Speaking in Tongues

Recommended: Yes