On our Peter Lovesey page, I give him the tagline “diamonds,
not so rough”; I sometimes wonder if “red herring monger” would be more
precise. But be that as it may.

I first encountered Lovesey’s books shortly before this book came out,
and I confess it stopped me in my tracks; it’s only recently that I’ve
begun reading his Peter Diamond novels again. And all this without my
even reading it, mind you; just reading the flyleaf was enough to put me
off. Why? In this book, Peter Diamond loses his beloved wife Steph.
Although she hasn’t had a major part in any of the books, she’s had a
persistent and important role in all of them–she’s Diamond’s anchor, his
prop and stay, the thing that keeps him from going nuts, his island of
peace. And in this book, she dies…and Diamond has to deal with it.

I hate that.

Having read the flyleaf I put the book back on the shelf
and said, “Well, I think I’ll wait for the paperback of this one…and
maybe even longer than that.” I hadn’t even read enough of the flyleaf
to find out how Steph dies; just the bare fact was sufficient.

And for quite a while, the only Peter Diamond books I saw on the shelves
were this one and some I already had. About a month ago, though, I found
two others nestled on the bookstore shelf next to this one, and decided
that it was time to bite the bullet and get on with it, especially since I
could begin with the other two books. I didn’t know at the time whether
they were written before or after Diamond Dust, and it didn’t
matter; it was all insulation.

You’ve perhaps noticed that I haven’t said much about what’s in the book,
or how Steph dies, and I’m not going to. I’ll just say that parts of it
were indeed painful to read; Steph’s death is a bad thing, bad for
Diamond, and bad for us, and knowing that, I’d guess, Lovesey doesn’t rub
our noses in it. He portrays Diamond’s grief simply and poignantly
without wallowing in it.

The mystery that follows is as intricate and surprising as anything else
of Lovesey’s I’ve read, with red herrings galore, and I found the ending
perfectly satisfying–which was yet another surprise.

But I rather suspect that if I’d tried to read it when it first came out,
I’d have had more trouble. Living with the fact of Steph’s death for a
couple of years lent me some needed distance.

It might seem odd that I’d get so worked up over a mystery series, and
indeed I’ve probably overstated my dismay. It wasn’t heartbreak that
caused me to put this book back on the shelf a couple of years ago, it
was the wish to spare myself an unpleasant read. But either way, it’s
a tribute to Lovesey’s skill.