Dr. Death

But for John Rubinstein's versatile performance of the new Alex Delaware mystery, the listener would succumb to boredom long before the plot takes off. What begins as an intriguing tale, the murder of a Kevorkian-type character in a van by a death machine, no less, bogs down in much talk, recovering only toward the end. Until then, Rubinstein's solid characterizations and upbeat style support, and even bolster, this whodunit. As suspicion for the good doctor's death focuses on the family members of one of his former "patients," Rubinstein's slightly gravelly, slightly nasal voice makes Delaware come alive. This is one thriller that's better because of the reading. A.L.H. (c) AudioFile 2001, Portland, Maine


John Rubinstein continues his remarkable interpretations of Jonathan Kellerman's works in the latest thriller featuring psychologist Alex Delaware and LAPD Homicide Detective Milo Sturgis. This time they're investigating the murder of a Jack Kevorkian-like character who has very publicly assisted in scores of suicides. Rubinstein uses Delaware's voice as the story's unifying thread. He then peppers the narrative with distinctive voices and characterizations for the novel's other players. A gratingly unpleasant voice for an officious police bureaucrat is a guilty pleasure, while his reading of the doctor's drug-addled son is unexpectedly moving. G.N. (c) AudioFile 2001, Portland, Maine

December 4, 2000
A series of well-publicized gentle deaths are the work of self-appointed angel of mercy Dr. Eldon Mate, who attends to the terminally ill in cheap hotel rooms or in the back of his van. Now Mate himself is dead, carved up and found by two joggers and their dog on a high road above Los Angeles. Like Kellerman's previous bestsellers, this title features psychologist Alex Delaware, whose self-righteous pomposity blends neatly, as it has before, into a narrative liberally dosed with psycho-angles and agreeably warped murder motives. This time out, Delaware works with cop Milo Sturgis and counsels Stacy and Eric Doss, two teenage children getting over their mother Joanne's death, which Dr. Mate seemingly helped to hasten. In his dual role, Delaware encounters a rogue FBI agent tracking a killer obsessed with Mate; Mate's disturbed son; and Richard Doss, the kids' father, who by slipping cash to a shady character in a dark bar is marked as a prime murder suspect. Joanne's illness too proves mysterious. But Kellerman isn't in top form here. Most annoyingly, the FBI guy does the bulk of the sleuthing legwork, while Delaware spends much of the book either making love or pontificating on motivations for characters all very similarly flawed. The ending is agreeably tricky, but by then great gobs of Delaware have either delighted Kellerman's faithful or else turned readers' stomachs in a way that serial deaths, gentle or otherwise, may have somehow failed to do. Kellerman's rep and the book's strong, geometric cover will send this one on to the lists.