This remarkable novel spins subjects we've been hearing about lately: psychopaths, serial killers,
terrorists, and genetic tinkering. It contains some of the most gut-clutching murders in modern crime
fiction, one after the other, fascinating and repellant, like watching a rattler close in on a mouse. Hero
Greymon Gift has an unusual occupation: he's a fire marshal, applying detective methods to burn scenes.
The one he's investigating in the opening chapters goes strange: FBI agents swarm in, along with creepy
types, CIA or worse. The link seems to be a sperm-donor bank, and suddenly we're confronting evil as
something carried in the genes. Can it be manipulated, as with the Nazis' attempts to breed superwarriors?
This is the underpinning to the thrill-a-minute plot, carried along by vivid writing: "The sun was so bright
shadows could not exist." And also by a sinister conceit: we are not just victims of evil but often its
unknowing agents as well. There's a bit of Dexter here, without the fey humor. The colorful style is a
constant delight. And the undercurrents are unsettling. Put Kendrick on your must-read list, and move him
near the top of the pile.