The Copper Bracelet  --  a collaboration serial thriller

-- conception by Jeffery Deaver

Book 2 of The Watchlist aka the Harold Middleton series

 

Other authors involved:  

Gayle Lynds, David Hewson, Jim Fusilli, John Gilstrap, Joseph Finder, Lisa Scottoline, David Corbett, Linda Barnes, Jenny Siler, David Liss, P.J. Parrish, Brett Battles, Lee Child, Jon Land, James Phelan

 

 

This book is a collaborative effort among various crime thriller novelists, with Jeffery Deaver fronting the project (he created the main protagonist, Harold Middleton, and he also writes the first and last chapters).  I don't know all of these other crime thriller authors, though I think some of them were part of the first book's writing... and some are new names.

I was just as intrigued with it as I had been with The Chopin Manuscript (my review), though I had been worried that the book would be a big mess with so many minds and so many ideas trying to take precedent. And despite The Chopin Manuscript getting slightly out of control towards the middle and the ending, it was still a very enjoyable piece... if you can ignore a lot of the mess.

Whether this book was really a big haphazard, narrative mess, or if it was just me, being distracted at all the wrong times while listening to the audiobook, I can't be sure. But I sure as hell had a hard time following what was going on with so much going on within moments of events.

It's a pretty good concept that has potential to last a few more books, honestly. Harold Middleton is pretty much the leader of a group of Volunteers who are tasked with helping keep the world a safe place by going after potential terrorist threats and the like. And, of course, in The Copper Bracelet, there's a lot of action, and traveling, and secrets, and secret reveals, and death, and destruction, and betrayals, and torture, and... there's just a LOT going on in this book.

Like I said already, I had no idea where the book was going with all the things happening for a good long time.

Still, I had fun with this one. Even if it was a lot of confusing fun.

And once again, Alfred Molina did excellent with his narration; though I can't help but feel that it was better in the first book.

bookshelves: film-only, summer-2013, published-1953, mystery-thriller, series, north-americas

 

 

Nero Wolfe was almost as famous for his wealthy clients and extravagant fees as for his genius at detection. So why has he accepted a case for $4.30? And why have the last two people to hire him been ruthlessly murdered? Wolfe suspects the answers may lie in the story of a twelve-year-old boy who turns up at the door of his West Thirty-fifth Street Brownstone. In short order, Wolfe finds himself confronted by one of his most perplexing and pressing cases, involving a curious set of earrings shaped like spiders dipped in gold. The case is all boiling down to a strange taste of greed—and a grumpy gourmand's unappeasable appetite for truth.

I couldn't find the first book in the series recommended to me, A Trouble of Fools, so this book, the twelfth in the series, was my introduction to the Carlotta Carlyle series. Lots has obviously happened in previous books, and Carlyle is working as a private investigator and is no longer with the Boston Police Department, although she's still friends with her old partner Mooney who heads Homicide. The story is mostly told by Carlyle first person, and I did find it jarring when in the Fourth Part it switches to third person from Mooney's point of view, only to switch back to Carlyle telling the story first person. Most books that do this kind of switch have a consistent pattern of switching back and forth so it feels more natural. I also felt Carlyle came across as far too naive about her fiance Sam and the significance of his association with organized crime, given she's none too young and a former cop. Still, I liked this one, mostly I think because of the chemistry between Carlyle and Mooney and having spent three years in the Boston area, I enjoyed the setting.

TV seriesGreat fun!

Pleasant, but so unmemorable that I'm having trouble even conjuring the interest to write a review. The sort of book that doesn't inspire enough glorious frustration to write a rant, nor the adoration to pen a slavering paean to its greatness.

Carlotta Carlyle, the story's protagonist, is a former cab driver and former cop, now private investigator. She's single and has the requisite cat, T.C. And T.C., being a thoroughly modern cat, gets mail.

When the story begins, Carlotta is eyeing a letter that claims T.C. is the winner of 20-thousand dollars. Because the story details have already been replaced with details from another novel, I can't remember if the letter is from a condo company, and collecting the money requires listening to a sales pitch, or whether there are no strings attached at all. Either way, to claim the 20K, Carlotta and her "husband," T.C., need to collect the money in person. A problem since T.C. isn't precisely a person.

Right off the bat, I'm wondering how smart woman could ever think this was legitimate. I mean, seriously? Anyway, Carlotta is on the hunt for a human stand-in for T.C.

Meanwhile, an elderly lady, Margaret Devens, appears on her doorstep, wanting to hire Carlotta to find her missing brother, Eugene. Unfortunately, Granny is less than forthcoming with the truth about her brother, and pretty much expects Carlotta to located him out of thin air.

I think I'm supposed to find Margaret endearing because she's old. Mostly, I found her prickly, like a cactus, but without the occasional burst of pretty flowers. Consequently, the fate of Margaret's brother didn't exactly keep me up nights worrying. Or reading this book. (A kind of stupid obstinacy kept me reading.)

Eugene works for a cab company, the same outfit that once employed Carlotta. And pretty soon, Carlotta's back driving a cab, following Eugene's compatriots around the streets of Boston, seeking clues to Eugene's disappearance. Carlotta also reacquaints herself with Mooney, a police detective, and tries to enlist him to play the part of T.C. The obligatory (tepid) love interest is provided by Carlotta's ex-boyfriend, Sam, who owns the cab company.

Stuff happens, and the above plot threads - cab company, local police department, T.C.'s prize money - are bound together reasonably well with an IRA money-making scheme (as in Irish Republican Army, not retirement - the novel was first published in the 80s).

The pace was just too meandering, and Carlotta, despite the occasional witty insight, felt like just about every other young, single sleuth in the genre. I got sort of annoyed with her at the end when she goes all schmopey over the death of the antagonist. (She shows up at the funeral, with flowers.) The guy is a drug dealer, precisely the kind of person who endangers the life of Paulina, her little sister/surrogate daughter. Maybe the point was to show that Carlotta was kind-hearted, but honestly, all it did was make her look like an ass.

Yeah, a boring review for an uninspiring book. This is the start of a series that spawned many more books, so evidently the character and setting works for other readers.