(Of course, we all
know by now that’s just an ill-advised pseudonym for J. K. Rowling…)
Hulking, disreputable-looking private eye Cormoran Strike is
pretty much at the end of the road. His gorgeous girlfriend has kicked him out
for the final time, he’s out of clients, he’s deeply in debt, and his
prosthetic leg is giving him hell. As he contemplates living in his office, up
the steps to his door comes comely and competent Robin, sent by a temp agency
that assumes he wants to replace the departed secretary. Strike neglected to
tell them he simply can’t afford one anymore.
Unnerved by the unexpected appearance of a pretty girl eager
to work for a private investigator, Strike excuses himself to the back office. After
pulling himself together, he marches back out to explain the mistake. But in
the meantime, Robin has organized the desk, straightened the reception area,
taken a few phone calls, and ushered in a well-heeled client.
Robin continues to make herself indispensable as Strike
launches into his new case: the death of a supermodel, known informally to her
cohorts as “Cuckoo,” that the police have ruled a suicide. Her brother hires
Strike to prove it was murder.
 |
| J. K. Rowling |
And so we enter both the glamorous and seamy side of London’s
fashion scene. Interwoven subplots carry us off in all directions: family secrets,
legal conflicts, suspicious friends and fans, scandal, etc. Rowling, as we well
know, knows how to blindside her readers!
But the end is satisfying, even though issues remain unresolved
with Robin’s fiancé. After all, it wouldn't be realistic if things were too tidy!
I would have to say that it’s a romping good read, even
though the magic is missing. I never felt as pulled into this adventure as I
was into Hogwarts. But then, there will never be the equal of Harry Potter.
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