A certain degree of predictability in a thriller can be a comfort, but Savarin may be settling into a disturbing rut—in his eighth Müller and Pappenheim outing (after Seasons of Change
), certain elements seem predestined to the point of tedium. Don't go up in a light plane if you're supposed to be related to Müller, for example. Many plot details are familiar from Savarin's previous books in his series about Berlin Hauptkommissar Jens Müller, a wealthy, titled young man who drives a customized Porsche and wears his hair in a ponytail, and his deputy, the chubby, chain-smoking and defiantly working-class Sergeant Pappenheim. Müller, who seems to do little actual work in Germany, is still off in Australia, looking for a couple with knowledge about his parents, who died when he was 12. The secret fascist group known as Semper, responsible for their deaths, is still a world threat. After a few pages of this, readers might well mutter, "Been there, bought that," and move on to entertainment slightly more surprising. (July)
