Labyrinth, a novel, was written a year before the O. J. Simpson case came to trial. Labyrinth is a parallel, riveting legal drama. Amid the gritty courtrooms and chilly analysts' offices of New York City, David Kirk's life as a much-sought-after criminal lawyer is hectic and all-consuming. He works seven days a week, twenty hours a day, and has no time for anything beyond his own career. There is also no need for him to take on the case involving a murdered young actress, except for the fact that the police suspect - who is also her boyfriend - seems so...innocent. There is no good reason for such an all-American kind of guy to be implicated in such a gruesome killing except for his proximity to the crime. And the a glove is found with blood that, through DNA testing, matches that of the boyfriend; the boyfriend seems to have a history of abusing the woman; he tries to run; the boyfriend believes he is being framed. As Kirk takes the case further he finds himself grappling in the twisting turns and blind alleys of an uncertainty he has never before experienced. As he seeks the expert opinions of an aloof and beautiful psychoanalyst, suddenly the differences between illusion and reality become more difficult for him to comprehend. Then, at trial, a truth emerges that will reverse everything that Kirk has previously thought to be true about the proceedings, a truth that will call into question his career as well as his own beliefs about himself and the American legal system. But will his knowledge have arrived too late? Life is stranger than fiction. Sometimes it comes very close.
I found this book at a transition period in my young life, around eleven years old, when I was reading a whole lot but mainly concentrated by my peers and a variety of authority figures into reading those mid-teen thriller/horror novels (eg. Point Horror, Goosebumps); opting for something with a bit of a kick in comparison to 'Sweet Valley High', etc. the lesser of several evils, in my opinion. So when I found this huge hardback lurking amongst my parents affects, I just had to read it - the front was so dark and bland, the book so hefty and obviously adult; the sort of book I had never read before or had ever really had access to. This undoubtedly was the first 'grown-up' book I ever read and it was fantastic.
I was hooked on the idea of someone having Multiple Personality Disorder - the prospect of one individual never really knowing another, at least not for certain. The existence of these disorders intrigued me and continues to do so into my adulthood and the uncertainty throughout the novel about the criminal character, did he or didn't he? is he or isn't he?
Well worth a read, maybe not your usual cup of tea but it'll definately make you think - maybe consider something by Jodi Picoult or James Patterson if you enjoy this.
Well... after just finishing a Jeffrey Deaver mystery, this novel left me disappointed. I figured out ahead of time what the twist near the end would be.
I fell a bit disloyal writing this comment because Henry Denker is my cousins' , Rose and Edie's "Uncle Henry." I think Uncle Henry should stick to novels which are NOT mysteries.