From start to finish this book is a Möbius strip of plot twists. That was only one of the ways author David Ellis avoids predictability in this noir genre crime novel. All the right elements of uncertainty are here. Is the protagonist an entangled victim trying to do the right thing or is he the creator of a complicated web of lies that might at any moment ensnare him? There is sexual obsession and there will be murder.
Marty Kadish is the first person narrator. His career toward a lucrative partnership is on an upward trajectory; his personal life has plummeted in the opposite direction. He has no deep relationships, no living relatives apart from his divorced sister and her two young children. He has repressed strong emotions that alienated him from his mother who died of cancer when he was young. He has no fulfilling activities outside of work, except, well, a clandestine affair with a married woman, Rachel. Rachel and her husband head a foundation for deprived children. Marty is a volunteer fund-raiser, part of the community service stint expected of someone of his status. Thursday nights, Rachel's husband works late hours at the hospital. Marty crouches on those nights with voyeuristic longing at Rachel's erotic figure backlit against the wide bedroom window. This is how the story opens, with Marty crouching in the November wind-chill at his usual vantage point with a clear view of the back patio and den.
The stalking is creepy. The obsession disproportionate. Yet he seems like a decent enough guy, concerned for Rachel's safety when she alludes to her abusive husband, almost idolizing her unattainability, her flawless perfection. These ambivalent impressions are conveyed by flashbacks of past intimacy. Yet, with the first person point of view, his reliability is never to be taken for granted.
Part I depicts a frenzied internal dialogue. That dialogue will continue over the next five days. Has he removed all traces of his presence? Does anyone know about his affair with Rachel? He hasn't spoken to anyone, but perhaps some close long-term friends suspect. Are there any holes in the alibi his has constructed? And above all, how does he act? How exactly would an innocent man act? Does his pretense at innocence actually cast more suspicion on him? It gets worse when the police come around to question him. First he claims only a passing acquaintance with Mrs. Reinhardt; then he's referring to her by first name. Was she having an affair? Of course not. Rachel wouldn't do that, he protests, a bit too heatedly.
Privately he confides to the reader, “I've always wondered what it would feel like to have killed someone. Not the feeling of committing the act – that never really interested me – but after. Of carrying that little secret, wondering who knows what, playing the little games with everyone.” (p.61) He should feel remorse, but Instead he thinks of Poe's Tell-Tale Heart: “There will be no thumping heart calling me from the floorboards. No voice tormenting me. No ghosts.” (p.61)
On the other hand, he is so good with his ten-year old nephew, Tommy. Tommy loves him. Can't wait until his next visit. Marty has become Tommy's emotional anchor ever since the divorce. So is Marty a sociopath? A narcissist? Or just someone who let his impulses get away from him?
This book had me hooked every minute. I could barely tear myself away from it. The finely crafted suspense was a welcome distraction from the current Coronavirus lock-down.