I sat up past my usual bedtime last night to finish it. I was eager to see how all the pieces of the latest cold case shook out, and also keen to find out the fate of some of the players in the story, but as the clock ticked on I realized that the real reason I was staying up late was that I didn't want to carry this one on into another day.
Yes, I was finally caught up in the whodunit/whoisdoing it thing, but honestly? Maybe it's a Danish thing or something, but I grew very weary of the endless references to people's bowels churning, and clogged toilets, and such. While murder and mayhem in a novel don't phase me much, I suppose I'm a prude when it comes to bodily functions. There is a reason there are doors on bathrooms, people.
Apart from that recurring theme keeping me at arm's distance, it was the first of Adler-Olsen's Department Q novels in which both the cold case and the current day machinations didn't hold me in equal thrall. I found myself bored with what was going on in the current day investigation, and for the most part, in the day to day lives of Mørck, Rose, and Assad outside the case itself.
This wasn't a godawful book. Had it been, I would not have finished it, and you'd know about it, but it just didn't measure up to the earlier books in the series.
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