It had a promising start- the murder victim ID’d in the opening sentence. Then, in poured the adjectives, describing everyone’s clothes and personality and accents in painstaking, overwhelming detail. It became something shy of beach reading, lost some of its intellectual shimmer. In the end, seems like just the kind of book that would be recommended by a librarian– easy to read, wide appeal. Of course, none of those books ever jibe well with me.
The quick & dirty on plot: a Montreal inspector is summoned to Three Pines, Quebec, to investigate the death of elderly Jane Neal. She’s just had a painting accepted by the local art exhibition, and makes the unheard-of invitation for her friends to enter her house, beyond the kitchen door. But then, death. Turns out she’s spent years drawing over the walls of the rest of the house. The key to the mystery is in the painting, and the face that is blotted out and redrawn. Fair Day. Who wasn’t in the painting? Timmer’s son Ben, who inherited all that cash.
Blah blah blah, skip it.