The Twelfth Card

April 18, 2005
Lincoln Rhyme, Deaver's popular paraplegic detective, returns (after The Vanished Man
) in a robust thriller that demonstrates Deaver's unflagging ability to entertain. But even great entertainers have high and lows, and this novel, while steadily absorbing, doesn't match the author's best. Geneva Settle, who's 16 and black, is attacked in a Manhattan library while researching an ancestor, a former slave who harbored a serious secret (not revealed until book's end). Amelia Sachs, Rhyme's lover/assistant, and then Rhyme are pulled into the case, which quickly turns bloody. After Geneva are a lethally cool white hit man and a black ex-con—but even when they're identified, their motive remains unclear: why does someone want this feisty, hardworking Harlem schoolgirl dead? To find out, Rhyme primarily relies, as usual, on his and Sachs's strength, forensic analysis; the book's tour de force opening sequence consists mostly of a lengthy depiction of their painstaking dissection of evidence left during the initial attack on Geneva, and every few chapters there's an extensive recap of all evidence collected in the case. Deaver offers more plot twists than seem possible, each fully justified, but this and the emphasis on forensics give the novel more brain than heart. Geneva, a wonderful character, adds feeling to the story, and there are minor personal crises faced by other characters, but as the novel's focus veers from police procedure to odd byways of American history, execution techniques and one more plot twist, the narrative loses grace and form. Even so, this is one of the more lively thrillers of the year and will be a significant bestseller. Agent, Deborah Schneider. 300,000 first printing; 14-city author tour.

June 6, 2005
The popularity of Deaver's novels about quadriplegic police detective Lincoln Rhyme and his legwoman Amelia Sachs depends mightily on their personal stories (i.e., their romantic relationship, their struggles with depression and physical impairments) and the ingeniously twisted crimes they solve. Both elements have been served better in the past. While the plot is properly perplexing (why is a 16-year-old Harlem high schooler being stalked by a ruthless killer?), fans will be baffled by Deaver's decision to move series supporting player NYPD lieutenant Lon Sellitto closer to center stage, thus significantly limited Rhyme's presence in the story. Boutsikaris, an accomplished theater and film actor, and one of the better audio performers, provides a crisp narrative that moves the story quickly enough to build and maintain a fair amount of suspense, even through several lengthy plot recaps. He exhibits both versatility and imagination in finding the right voice for most of the characters, from the impatient, almost fussy Rhyme to the gruff and emotionally conflicted Sellitto.

April 1, 2005
A new Lincoln Rhyme novel is cause for excitement among fans of twisty-turny thrillers. This time out, Rhyme, the quadriplegic forensic investigator, is trying to find out why a man was stalking a high-school student. Turns out it might have something to do with the death of one of the student's ancestors nearly 140 years ago. Deaver, who must have been born with a special plot-twist gene, somehow manages, in every book, to pull two or three big surprises out of his hat. He also has a knack for drawing us immediately into the story. For some readers, it's his detailed description of investigative techniques; for others, it's Rhyme himself, the crusty, bad-tempered (but secretly lovable) detective who, with the help of his protege (and lover), the beautiful Amelia Sachs, solves crimes that most other investigators couldn't begin to crack. The Rhyme novels are among the cleverest of contemporary detective fiction. It is disappointing, however, to report that this one has a rather noticeable flaw. He attempts to render the dialogue of an African American character, in a kind of written Ebonics ("'S'up, girl?") that is very distracting to read and pulls us right out of the story. One of Deaver's strong points has always been his ability to write flowing dialogue; the awkward effort here to translate oral idiom into written language is an unfortunate slipup. Aside from that, though, it's a typically well-written, suspenseful story.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2005, American Library Association.)