It stars a 56-year old Medal of Honor holder turned accountant who is a scarred soul leftover from his stint in Vietnam, and who is now partners in a publishing firm. He somehow has garnered a ton of money but we are not told exactly from where, but he wears bespoke suits, custom-made shoes, made-to-order shirts, and drives a $100,000 Jag. Must be nice.
His young niece is found murdered, the fourth in a series of young models who died from what appears to be an ice pick jab to the brain. And the fourth to be wearing a dress designed by the up-and-coming designer Fargo, and posed in fashion shoot style.
He set off to find the killer, and we get to tag along as he moves through the monied young and annoying set as they hit the trendy night spots and the must-be-seen-at charity dinners.
I bet you think it was the designer, right? You might be right. But you will have to read the book to find out. I really liked it, and although it says “The Manhattan Mysteries”, this seems to be the only one so far. I am eagerly awaiting the next.
Now where did I put my Prada bag and my Manolo Blahniks? Oh, yeah, that’s right. I don’t have a Prada bag and Manolo Blahnick shoes. Note to self: for the next husband, be sure you marry very very well, for money. Forget this love stuff. 🙂