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Powell looked hard at Reich. “What about D'Courtney?" “He looked dead too.
Hell, he was dead." “And everybody was standing around staring?" “Some were
in the rest of the suite, looking for the daughter." “That's Barbara D'Courtney.
You looked at them, sitting silent and awed, and suddenly you realized that each
of them looked saintly, glowing with the aura of the floor; and each of them
sounded saintly, their bodies echoing the music of the floor. The candles looked
She looked inexpressibly mischievous, high-spirited, fascinating. But she was
adult. He did not know her. “I'm being discharged this evening," Barbara said. “I
know." “I'm terribly grateful to you for all you've—" "Please don't say that." “For all
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I was set to give this story five stars throughout most of the book, but the ending threw me off. Way off.
The majority of the story is a detective story; we follow a crime from the angle of the perpetrator, and the investigating police officer. The caper is made all that much more exciting by the existence of people with esp, known as peepers, of which our investigator is one, and our perpetrator is not. A thrilling game of mouse and peeper cat made the book a quick read, and fun to follow. The inclusion of the catchy lyrics the perpetrator has purposely stuck in his head to keep himself from leaking his crime to the psychics around him interspersed throughout the dialog and action was a great touch that really increased the tension through certain parts of the story.
The conclusion however, I felt turned suddenly to a different tone altogether. The plot became less understandable, and the ending somewhat preachy. I suddenly got the impression that the author wrote the whole book as a means to state the exposition. Five stars until the last thirty pages or so.