Clementine’s sister, Poppy, has supposedly taken her own life. For six months Clementine accepts it as suicide and lives with the grief of not picking up the phone right before it happened. Then new information surfaces, and it starts to look a lot more like a serial killer. Almost right after, it becomes evident to Clementine that the killer might be one of the 3-4 men in her life.
But which one?
At different points in the book, I was convinced it could be any of them. Lucy Goacher keeps us guessing the entire time, pushing the story to a Agatha Christie style grand finale, after explaining all the bits and pieces leading to it.
The book brought to mind the novels by Nicci French, where nobody believes the main character for countless pages and she has to face some dark force entirely on her own. The book is translated by the same translator, published by the same publisher, and designed in the same style as the Nicci French’s series. It’s up to the bar. I marked it as 4/5. It’s more Maud O’Connor than Frieda Klein. A lot more “nobody believes me” than “I’m going to run over the killer like a train and he won’t see it coming”.
Veselin.blog 