If one ever doubted the value of a good editor (or even the spelling/grammar checker in Word), all of the 'digital only' books published for the Kindle vindicate their value in spades!
This book doesn't fall into that category, other than the occasional glaring examples: In one paragraph the point is made that it's 2:03 in the afternoon (and the time is significant) and in the next paragraph there is a narrative comment about "... this time of the morning..."
Maybe I should have rated this higher, because it kept me going until the last page and I just downloaded another in the Moe Prager series to read (though it was through the lending library, as I don't think I'd have paid for it), and it's a page-turner.
So why the 3 stars? First, Prager learns at the beginning that he has stomach cancer, and the rest of the book we get his "hard-boiled detective" patter mixed with his self-pity about the cancer. OK, the character has cancer and feels bad for himself - that's fair. But it's badly done, feels endlessly repetitive, and as though the author is just fluffing out the length.
Second, I have no idea if Coleman lives in, or is from, New York at all. But he paints it just like every tourist imagines it, which not only lacks authenticity, but is trite. There is not one stereotype he misses, and I don't mean just about the people, I mean about the neighborhoods and everything else. No, hold it - he misses one: Throughout the novel he drives, never once has a genuine problem finding a parking space, and the only time he mentions traffic being bad is when someone tries to kill him in a car. Moe may have stomach cancer, but the parking/traffic angels have his back.
When all is said and done, my frustation with this is that I think Coleman could have made this book so much better with just a little more care and time.