CLEAN CUT

Sex, violence, Catholic guilt and sloppy police work mark Monsour's debut thriller, which features a horny female homicide detective in pursuit of a serial killer in St. Paul, Minn. Monsour runs hot and cold with this cop caper; some scenes are chilling, others corny. There is no whodunit here; Monsour identifies the killer early on, leaving only revelations of sick motives ahead. Paris Murphy is the detective, estranged from but still energetically sleeping with her husband and having a torrid affair with the medical examiner as well. Paris and her partner, Gabriel Nash, a fat, 50ish cop who eats liverwurst and Miracle Whip sandwiches, deduce the killer's identity fairly quickly, but they never quite seem to get their act together to bring him in for questioning. Despite having enough evidence to make a district attorney drool, the cops dither and scratch their heads while the killer, who is supposedly ingenious, makes stupid mistakes. They let the killer escape so many times he tires of the pursuit and decides to become the pursuer. Paris and the murderer enjoy taunting each other; it turns out that they're both Catholics who worry about getting to heaven given their respective sins. The novel has little mystery, but there is much graphic, racy action. Monsour seems to be saying that crooks are as dumb as cops. It's an interesting point of view, but in this case it doesn't make for an intellectually engaging psychological drama. Agent, Esther Newberg. (Feb. 3)

Forecast:Blurbs from John Sandford, Daniel Silva, Paul Lindsay and Jeffery Deaver, among others, will give this novel a strong headstart.