I love books that re-evaluate life a little, that make me think. That is, those in which there is little more value than words, or just the story itself. This book is like that.
The story isn’t fast-paced, sometimes too slow, almost boring. Yet I didn’t want to put down the book, I wanted to know what would happen in the end, who the killer was, and what the motives for the murders were. There were not many surprises, yet the writer maintained the tension until the end. In fact, the end was the best, although I would have finished the book with the letter because I already felt the last few pages were redundant and uninteresting.
In most of the books, the operation of law enforcement is illogical. Although that may be why the story is lifelike.
I’ve been avoiding books in the crime genre lately because they’re starting to get a little one-sided for me. But sometimes I get a book like this, but in that case, the book has to meet two conditions in order for me to read it: the description promises such an exciting story that it should definitely pique my interest, and preferably not be part of a series that the person in charge of the police officer is bound because such books are usually unnecessarily full of irrelevant information about the life of the police officer. This book has gone through the filter, so I read it and it became a favorite.
Agatha Christie is my favorite, and the basics of the story have been compiled from her books, as Peter Swanson describes it. But it didn’t become a bad imitation, but rather an interesting and improved version.
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