Rating: 3.75* of fiveThe Book Description: From rising South African thriller writer Deon Meyer, a gripping suspense novel about revenge, forgiveness, and the race to catch a trained killer.A young woman makes a terrible confession to a priest. An honorable man takes his own revenge for an unspeakable tragedy. An aging inspector tries to get himself sober while taking on the most difficult case of his career. From this beginning, Deon Meyer weaves a story of astonishing complexity and suspense, as Inspector Benny Griessel faces off against a dangerous vigilante who has everything on his side, including public sympathy. A gruesome abuse case has hit the newsstands, and one man has taken it upon himself to stand up for the children of Cape Town. When the accused is found stabbed through the heart by spear, it's only the beginning of a string of bloody murders - and of a dangerous dilemma for detective Griessel. The detective is always just one step behind as someone slays the city's killers. But the paths of Griessel and the avenger collide when a young prostitute lures them both into a dangerous plan - and the two find themselves with a heart-stopping problem that no system of justice could ever make right. My Review: For once it's a good thing I don't keep good track of who it was suggested I read something. Whoever suggested this book to me: Don't fess up or there will be split lips and black eyes in your immediate future.I hated this reading experience. Hated it. Fathers with murdered children, children in jeopardy that they can only desperately struggle to save, oh my bloomin' garden I was hit from every emotional angle and then smacked from behind and then misdirected into several dark corners and therein kneecapped. I started reading the book and, six and a half hours and one piddle break later, emerged on the other side of the dust jacket with bloody stumps in place of my ground-away teeth, hurting belly from all the unaccustomed muscle-clenching, and a serious need for a shower and hair wash to rid myself of the stress-sweat stink.I am still in a state of high dudgeon at being made to participate in the shenanigans surrounding vigilante justice that I can only say I approve of (oh how that hurts to type) and police corruption scandalously indifferently treated (pause for blood to stop boiling over) and a miserable alcoholic a-hole with a serious need to destroy, himself his life the world, whatever comes into range, who happens to be the one being Diogenes would light up with that damn lamp...!So. Unless you want to be lifted from the confines of your safe little rut, smacked into walls and hit with unbearably terrifying images of loss and its unending damage, beaten with the sensory overload of immersion in a landscape and a culture alien and familiar and overwhelmingly pungently vibrantly present, don't even think of reading this book.Poor you, if you don't.