Dead Famous

This installment in O'Connell's Mallory series is situated in Chicago, where an FBI agent is discovered murdered in a psychiatrist's office. In the meantime, each member of a noteworthy jury in New York City is discovered murdered, one by one, after a bizarre disc jockey urges the public to seek them out because he disagrees with their verdict. Alyssa Bresnahan accompanies the listener on a thrilling psychological exploration of a serial killer's distorted mind and a brilliant but disfigured psychiatrist's determination to reveal confidential information connected to the crimes. At the same time, Mallory copes with a depressed ex-partner. Bresnahan delivers an exacting performance, making it possible for listeners to follow all the details of the turmoil. B.J.P. (c) AudioFile 2004, Portland, Maine

Starred review from August 4, 2003
O'Connell's post-feminist detective Kathleen Mallory returns full-throttle for an eighth grisly urban crime saga. And O'Connell's prose—sharp, gritty and streetwise—is in top form. In her previous case (2002's Crime School), Mallory solved a very personal murder and faced the doubts of coworkers about her competence. Now she's in total control, overseeing the recuperation of old friend and partner Riker, victim of an arrest-related shooting (she sets up a bogus fund to send him disability payments) and staying two steps ahead of a belligerent FBI agent named Marvin Argus. Two other vivid characters figure prominently in the story (or three, counting New York City itself, which O'Connell gives a palpable neo-noir grit): Argus is hounding Johanna Apollo, who's fled Chicago in the wake of a high-profile murder of another FBI agent named Timothy Kidd. A hunchback with extra-long legs, porcelain skin and raven hair, Johanna is working long, difficult hours as a crime scene cleaner. In Chicago, she was Kidd's therapist, and maybe his lover... and maybe she killed him, too. O'Connell devilishly fills in the pieces of the puzzle so that the reader's perspective undergoes constant shifts. Shock jock Ian Zachary—more abrasive off the air than on, if possible—exhorts loyal listeners to locate the members of a jury that let a killer walk free. And with his encouragement (if not instruction), a serial killer calling himself The Reaper has been obligingly knocking off the jurors. The way these two cases fit together is ingenious; once again, O'Connell sets the standard in crime fiction. 60,000 first printing; author tour.

January 5, 2004
O'Connell's previous noirish novels featuring Kathleen Mallory (Crime School
, etc.) wove together the NYPD detective's pursuits with glimpses of her past life, beginning with her semi-feral street urchin youth. This time, however, much of the book focuses on Riker, her crusty former partner, who's recuperating from a near-fatal shooting, and fascinating newcomer Dr. Johanna Apollo, the beautiful, deformed psychiatrist whom he loves. Apollo is the mysterious central player in a serpentine scheme that involves a vengeance-driven FBI agent, an obnoxious radio shock-jock, his unhinged assistant and The Reaper, a serial killer who's bumping off jurists who set a murderer free. The novel's convoluted, tricky plot is in need of audio clarification and that's what stage and television actress Bresnahan brings to the table. She wisely opts for a straightforward approach, presenting the book's lengthy descriptive passages in a clear, crisp manner and defining the cast of eccentric characters with subtle vocal shifts. (One notable and laudable exception is the supercilious, snarky tone she uses to nail the loathsome shock-jock.) The result is a compelling, smartly paced entertainment, as focused and coolly efficient as its affect-less heroine. Simultaneous release with the Putnam hardcover (Forecasts, Aug. 4).