This is the first of Connelly's non-Detective Harry Bosch novels, its slightly tainted hero instead being a member of the 4th estate, one Jack McEvoy. Jack works for a newspaper in Denver, dreams of getting a job with one of the large national dailies, and tinkers with a novel. Then his policeman brother, Sean, is murdered - made to look like a suicide, but sibling intuition deems otherwise - and Jack is off on a crusade to find the killer, a crusade that will change his life forever. Connelly comes up with a suitably gruesome plot that sheds light on the otherwise shaded world of the paedophile and the serial killer. And he's an expert at the double whammy of appearing to have everything sewn up and then come in with a further denouement to make the hair stand up in static shock. Don't read this one if you're of a nervous disposition or don't feel at home in the dark.