Soon dull, nondescript men are found shot in their homes with two bullets lodged in the chest area and two in the nether regions. This baffles the police. But do they call upon any sort of profiler or psychological specialist? No, they rely on the musings and insights of the current lover of one of the police officers assigned to the case. Is this the way things should happen?

A tenuous link between the dead men is discovered which allows the reader to guess the killer’s motivation far sooner than the police do. Why does it take so long? Are their brains frozen from the harsh Swedish winters? Van Veeteren continues to give only hints of personality and his colleagues are reduced to clichés - “ the family man,” “the ladies man” and the curmudgeonly chief inspector. Give me Morse with his grumblings and witty bon mots and beer over van Veeteren and his caustic comments, cigarettes and beer. 

The story is dull and predictable and the only surprise is that the killer’s identity is never revealed when the motive for revenge is finally puzzled out.  There’s no suspense, no brilliance, no great disclosure. Mind’s Eye and The Return, previous books in this series, held some promise but none appeared in this offering. 

--Jane Davis