When last I met Lucas Davenport, the hero-detective of John Sanford’s long-running and continually bestselling series, I’ll be honest: I hated him. In “Silent Prey”, the book prior to “Eyes of Prey” (the third in the series), Davenport was cheating on his girlfriend, who had just given birth to his daughter. The woman he was having an affair with was married, and despite her attempts to end the affair, Davenport kept pushing her into it. He was a narcissistic and borderline sociopathic asshole with a badge and a sex addiction problem. I hated him so much as a character that I almost gave up on the series. Indeed, I almost didn’t want to finish the book.
Something compelled me to read further, though. It may have been my slightly obsessive-compulsive need to finish a book I started, regardless of how bad or infuriating the book is, or it may have been the need to see closure to the mystery. (Say what you will about Davenport, Sandford writes a pretty fucking intense thriller.) In any case, I’m glad I finished it.
It began to dawn on me, near the end, that Sandford wasn’t condoning Davenport’s behavior at all. He was attempting to paint Davenport as the incredibly flawed, fucked-up and unlikable police detective that we didn’t get from the first book. He was creating depth. He was illustrating the fact that cops may not all be bastions of moral fortitude---indeed, some of them are complete assholes (see Ferguson, Cleveland, L.A., New York, etc.)---but they nonetheless do a thankless job and their moral flaws don’t necessarily interfere with their success in stopping criminals. In some cases, their moral flaws are the hard-to-define “edge” that makes them exceptional cops.
I know, it’s fucked up.
“Eyes of Prey” begins to give Davenport some of his due comeuppance. At the onset, Davenport is suffering from clinical depression brought on by the fact that his girlfriend, Jennifer, left him and took his daughter with her. He gets rare visitation rights, and Jennifer wants to take those away, as well. He is beginning to realize that his history of philandering is a serious problem. Of course, thanks to the depression, he hasn’t had much desire to screw around, so he’s been going the celibate route.
He refuses psychiatric treatment, however, preferring instead to deal with his depression the old-fashioned way: completely unhealthy violence and acts of police brutality. It’s actually his recent spate of violent episodes with criminals that has gotten him in hot water with Internal Affairs.
All of this is simply background to the real meat of the story: a serial killer who violently gouges out the eyes of the victim. The twist? There are two serial killers in this one. One is an antisocial actor named Druze. He commits the murders. The brains behind the two-man serial killing operation is an incredibly handsome and sociopathic doctor named Bekker. He doles out the orders and sets up the kills while he is away, ensuring that he always has air-tight alibis.
Davenport knows the doctor is dirty, and he knows that there is a second killer, but he doesn’t have any evidence upon which to build a case.
Sandford does some interesting things in this book. First, having two serial killers is interesting, logistically. In everything I have read, two serial killers working together is extremely rare but not completely unheard of. I like how Sandford sets up the relationship between the two killers, with one being the alpha dog and the other simply following orders.
Second, the dynamics between Davenport and Bekker. They meet in several key scenes throughout the book, and what’s interesting is how much they seem to have in common. It’s telling that, initially, Bekker actually likes Davenport. In Davenport, he seems to find a kindred spirit. What that potentially says about Davenport is extremely disturbing.
I’m glad that I decided to give Sandford another chance. I still don’t necessarily like Davenport as a character, but he is certainly growing on me, and Sandford clearly gives him room to mature. There are roughly 20 more books in this series, and based on its popularity, I’m guessing many other readers have taken an interest in Davenport’s emotional and spiritual growth.