My first Tony Parsons experience was The Slaughter Man, and I became a fan within a couple of Kindle taps. I wasted no time diving into this, and all it did was increase my insatiability for this author.
DC Max Wolfe is on the trail of human traffickers this time, when a refrigerated truck containing twelve young dead women is found abandoned in Chinatown in London. But there are thirteen passports in the driver's cab. Where is the driver, and where is the missing woman? It's essential to find the latter for her safety, the former to hold him accountable and provide intel on the head of the organisation. It's an unpleasant, gritty insight into the harsh, brutal and evil world of human trafficking. But, oh my, Parsons is a master at getting you totally addicted. Pick this up and you won't be able to put it down. Well told, well characterised, well everything.
But I am going to have a little nitpick. Few us…actually, I don't think any of us, constantly refer to our car by make and model. I don't park my Mazda MX5, or drive my Jaguar V8 575PS or get into my Ferrari GTC4Lusso. I get in my car, I drive to the shops, I park the car. The constant reference to the 'BMX X5' did start to get my goat. It's a car, incredibly useful to get from A to B…I really don't care if the lovely DC Wolfe drives a jelly mould.
That aside, Parsons is my find of the year. My blog is going to be awash with reviews of his books.
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