The pioneer in reconstructive and cosmetic surgery, a Nobel Prize winner and veteran of the Urban Wars, Dr. Wilfred B. Icove is murdered in his office with a single, precise, stab to the heart with a scalpel. The suspect, a stunning young woman, is a ghost; her name and address is bogus and no one seems to know her.
Digging deeper into the saintly doctor's life, Lieutenant Eve Dallas suspect something nefarious. No one is this squeaky clean, and encrypted, coded files she finds just might prove her theory. Then the good doctor's son is murdered in the same way, and the perfect image starts to unravel.
This book makes you think. Not just about who is the baddie (are they really?) and who might be next, but once the motive is clear, a whole new picture forms. A picture, a (fictional) truth that really gets you thinking about ethics, morals, and how some people think they can play God and get away with it.
This story was chilling, but not in a gory, bloody way, but in a psychological way as it makes you contemplate human nature, the boundaries of science and medicine, and the lengths some would go to create perfection.
It was jarring, chilling, engrossing...Even though, the ending was a bit over-the-top science fiction-y and mad scientist-y.
There was little drama on the personal front, with only Eve and Mira butting heads over the medical, scientific and ethic dilemma of the case. On the happier side, there were the holidays, with Roarke inviting his newly-found family over for Thanksgiving, where his unnatural nerves and his family's descent on the household offered a few moments of levity to the otherwise rather dark and brooding story.