You always start a Robin Cook novel with a prayer--please Robin, with all your millions, hire a dialogue coach, so that your characters will stop talking like cut-out dolls better suited to English as a Second Language textbooks.
If only he would do that, then the Harlequin Romance sensibilities he also brings to his works would be more tolerable.
Nevertheless, I generally enjoy Robin, and were it not for this book, I would gladly award him the Most Improved Author Golden Keyboard, or whatever, for he has gotten much better in these departments, since his breathtakingly awful early stabs at modern English. His plots are always good, his viewpoints humane.
Sadly, not here. As 76 pages of comments over three years here attest, he has seriously gone off the rails and out of his depth (a mixed metaphor maybe--just imagine a train going off a trestle bridge). He begins with one storyline--a death induced by chiropractic medicine--which in itself carries the potential for a complete book. Jack confronts the man. The chiropractor launches a defamation suit--how will Jack respond? Will there be a trial? Will Jack launch a counter claim of murder or wrongful death? Drama in the courtroom?
Noooo! Robin completely abandons this storyline, and we never hear of the chiropractor, his lawsuit, Jack's vendetta against alternative medicine, again.
Instead we are abruptly served up two new characters, a squabbling couple, Shawn and Sana, who carry out an unbelievable Indiana Jones raid on St. Peter's in Rome, discovering what might be an ossuary containing the remains of the Virgin Mary.
This is bad news for yet another new character, Cardinal James of New York, because according to Roman Catholicism, the Virgin was assumed physically to heaven, i.e., no remains should exist. From here on, the book goes into an irrevocable tailspin, as polemic is piled on polemic on dogma, and you start muttering to yourself "what? what? what IS this?"
Now many other readers here can further elaborate the basic story, but a glaringly obvious question presents itself here, which is never asked, never alluded to by any of the characters. If Cardinal James, exemplifying the supreme arrogance of this particular brand of organized religion, is so darn sure he and it have got the Monopoly on Truth, why oh why do they always go ballistic if anything is presented to contradict them? If the Church is always right, where's the challenge? What's the big deal? Why sick the Spanish Inquisition onto anybody if you know what's what and God is on your side?
One dreams, begs for some George Carlin like character to appear and put everybody in their place, but of course this does not happen. Everybody seems to be a good little Catholic in the book, even the ones who are not Catholic. Everybody wants to save the Church, even if it means suppressing reality. Nobody points out the contradictions in the Cardinal's logic, which is age-old and responsible for untold misery and suffering through world history.
The book oozes on, throwing up one non-event after another, until it closes with a literal bang near the finish, that oddly, doesn't seem to put out Jack too much, even if it involves those near and dear to him. But then, he's depressed as a rule, makes his living with the dead, and of course, he is written in the equivalent of Google 'moderate', so we shouldn't be surprised.
Fortunately, Robin returns to form since this aberration, 'Death Benefit' being one example I enjoyed a little while ago.