What begins as a missing-person investigation takes a nasty turn when good-time girl Jane Colby is found drowned, strangulation marks around her neck. Coast Salish cop Silas Seaweed soon discovers that some of Jane's associates would benefit by her death. Armed with his customary wit, intelligence and compassion, he sets out to find Jane's killer. In his search he runs afoul of shady loggers, witches and an attractive woman who owns a million-dollar yacht. Solving the case pulls him into a dangerous underwater vision quest-one from which he may never return.
Now a full-time writer, Stanley Evans has been a soldier, a surveyor, and deep-sea fisherman. He was born in England, immigrated to Canada in 1954 and currently resides in Victoria, British Columbia. He began his career by writing articles for newspapers and magazines, has written two plays that were produced at the Arts Club in Vancouver and is now an aspiring author.
I give up on this book, which for me is very rare. I think this author has a horrible view on women, and the amount that every female character is objectified is disgusting. I wonder if the author is a gross old man too, like Seaweed. The character, and maybe the author, comments on women in the same way my grandpa does.
Also, I find this novel vaguely racists. I don't think it is appropriate to take an existing culture and make up a bunch of details about it. If you want to make stuff up, invent a new culture.
I hated pretty much everything about this book. I read 80 pages and just cannot bring myself to read any more.
This is another noir masquerading as Canadian cop fiction. Even more, I feel, than the first book, this one addresses the seedy, the obscene, and the horrible things that accompany a detective in his job. Only the detective is a cop and not private. Yet here are the meat head body builders, the businessmen in grubby clothes, the very handsome women with yachts, champagne and sex appeal, all waiting for their scene.