Ross MacDonald was writing Raymond Chandler novels into my lifetime. How odd.
This book tracks Lew Archer as he looks for a missing woman whom he’d given a ride. He finds a twisted set of intertwined well-to-do families still living under the shadow of crimes committed during the World War II years.
So the reader comes along, sometimes picking up insights because it’s a twisted hard-boiled detective mystery that put him ahead of Archer, but the book and the crimes are labyrinth enough that you still won’t figure it completely out until the end.
I enjoyed it. I’ve probably read it before, and might read it again if it’s in one of the Archer omnibuses still on my to-read shelves. Hopefully, though, I’ll wise up and not buy another copy, but when I’m in a book fair berserker frenzy, I cannot be sure.
