These days, Gregg Hurwitz (he’s since dropped the middle name on his covers) is best known as the author of the Orphan X thriller series (coming soon to a movie theatre near you, produced by and starring Bradley Cooper). I read the original book, really liked it, and hope to continue with the series soon.
But this was his debut novel, and you can feel him struggling to find his voice. It reads a bit like a Silence of the Lambs knockoff, but instead of a sympathetic young female FBI-trainee you’ve got a jaded, asshole ex-FBI dude-turned-tracker named, as if he’s some hard-boiled noir anti-hero, Jade Marlow.
And rather than being behind bars, Marlow’s antagonist, a psychopathic serial killer named Allander Atlasia (names are not the author’s strong suit) has escaped one of the most well-protected maximum-security prisons in the world and is now on a killing spree.
That extended, elaborately planned escape comes at the beginning, and it’s one of the most effective and best-written sequences in the entire novel. Hurwitz, who’s also a screenwriter and comic book author, knows how to create visually gripping and suspenseful scenes. And meeting the inmates in the eponymous “Tower” is creepy, shiver-inducing fun.
Alas, Marlow himself isn’t so much fun. He’s got serious anger issues and is a terrible communicator – he’s also a bit of a misogynist. (Passages depicting his attraction to an underwritten female FBI agent are almost laughably bad.) But he’s good at what he does. Hurwitz tries to elicit some sympathy for him by gradually revealing his painful childhood backstory; we come to see that Marlow and Atlasia aren’t so different in their obsessions and compulsions, they just manifest themselves in different ways. And, as any watcher of a true crime docudrama will know, in order to profile a killer you’ve got to get into their mind and start to think how they would.
A note of caution: this book is not for the squeamish. Atlasia’s crimes – and the harrowing incident that possibly turned him into a criminal himself – are written in gruesome, stomach-churning detail. There’s a lot of blood.
As with many first-time novelists, the writing is uneven; sometimes it’s vivid and evocative, at others overwrought, obvious and cliché-ridden. References to Freud and Shakespeare feel, at times, sophomoric.
I was struggling how to rate this. I’d give it 3 1/2 stars, but am rounding up because, in 1999, the young author obviously shows signs of talent.