I occasionally pick up books that I sense I will not enjoy, just to see if I can figure out what others like about them. Such was the case with this book. This is the latest in a long list of novels, short stories and plays by the much acclaimed British writer and member of the House of Lords. I admit that I have vague memories of somewhat enjoying his 1977 Shall We Tell The President. This story is set around the year 2000, mostly in Britain, Saudi Arabia and the U.S., although there are no exact dates mentioned.
The plot is exceedingly complex with so many characters that I found it impossible to keep them straight, and almost none of them are honest law-abiding citizens. There are so many improbable occurrences that it became impossible to believe any of them. I accept that the world of crime and law enforcement is more complex than usually appreciated, but this exceeds all limits of believability.
Forged art and documents are bidded on at Christie’s auction by Donald Trump and Michael Bloomberg, and it seems characters carry around millions of dollars in cash and lethal weapons and yet never have any troubles crossing borders.
There are a few memorable quotes. A high-end prostitute notes: …‘« like footballers and ballet dancers, we have our sell-by date. »
An unscrupulous lawyer: « …lawyers gain a reputation for being ambulance chasers, but not Mr Booth Watson QC. He was of a higher calling and fell into the category of a funeral attending QC. »
I cannot recommend this book, and do not comprehend why it and others like it are bestsellers. But that is just me.
1.5/5
The Passionate Reader 