[ This review is 2 and a half years old ]
While (standing, actually) at the train station at half past ten last night, I finished
Dial Emma for Murder
. Yet more than with
Why Begins With W
(which I've read four times, three with hard copy, once with the Kindle app), I couldn't put the book down.
Now, given my schedule yesterday, this is what couldn't put the book down meant: I read
Emma
on my morning train ride into Boston, and again while riding the Green Line from Government Center to the MFA, again during my break at the museum, and then again on the Green Line from the MFA to North Station, and then finishing the book off while waiting at the station for my train home.
So, to such a degree as my day's agenda permitted, I read far the greater part of the book in one breath. A thoroughly engaging, witty, entertaining read.
What to say, that will not blurt out any spoiler? The smart-alecky-but-likeable (I wanted to say "simpatico," but realized I couldn't without suggesting a gender, a continued unknown quantity) narrator is more on edge than in
W
, the confidence at times wavers, and when a number of apparently important elements come to light, they of necessity admit of more than one reasonable possibility, and . . . there is danger of error.
And what of Lana? Is she a ditz? Or does she have a chunk of brain, which perhaps falls into place at odd times, if she cocks her ear just so? . . .