Late at night, in a New York café, Jack Reacher orders coffee in a cup made of foam, not china, so he can move on at a moment’s
notice. He owns nothing, carries less. He has never met a woman who said no, or a case he couldn’t solve.
But now Reacher faces a new case so disturbing that the truth eludes him. He has to sweat the details and work the clues. He has to do it the hard way. What started on a busy New York street explodes three thousand miles
away, in the sleepy English countryside, with Reacher, armed and dangerous, striding alone in the shadows.
For those of you who have read Lee Childs’ books previously then the tone of this should fall comfortably upon you. Invincible, tough, attractive, Jack Reacher is almost a comic-book hero,
writing wrongs and moving on quietly. The writing is pacey and easy to digest and, when you get tired, is easy to put down and pick up again. The trouble is Childs’ style has not evolved since he started with these books; the plot is linear – there are no sub-plots, nothing to take you away from the main storyline and up the tension.
Readable, but in need of development.