British novelist Campbell's latest thriller is, on the surface, a fairly typical story: years ago, a deranged man killed several children and then died himself; now a young boy and girl have disappeared, and their parents desperately try to find out what has happened to them and whether it's possible that the dead maniac isn't dead after all. An all-too-familiar premise, but if you look under the surface, you'll find fresh characters (including the boy's mother), better-than-average prose, and a few good plot twists. Campbell has written more than 20 thrillers, many straddling the crime and horror genres; not all of them are successful, but he hits far more often than he misses, and he's still finding new things to do with both genres. Unlike many of his competitors, Campbell gets along without graphic violence, relying instead on clever storytelling. It's a good idea, and in the right hands, it works. --David Pitt

Over the past 30 years, Campbell (The Last Voice They Hear) has perfected a story style distinctive for its stifling atmosphere of dread and oblique approach to horror. Applying it here to the shocking theme of a serial child-killer, he has crafted a nail-biting psychological thriller, his best in nearly a decade. The tale begins on a high note of menace when Leslie Ames and her adolescent son, Ian, move back to the house they had vacated upon the discovery that builder Hector Woollie had stashed the corpse of a young girl beneath its floor. The sense of impending terror only intensifies. Distrusted by the locals and hounded by the tabloids, Leslie and Ian nevertheless let a room to American horror-writer Jack Lamb. Jack quickly befriends Ian and beds Leslie, but says nothing of his secret, shameful tie to WoollieDwho has not died by misadventure as reported, but is on the loose and intent on returning to the scene of his crime. Campbell establishes his characters in sharp, precise slashes of chapters, which alternate the viewpoints of the oblivious Ames family, self-tortured Jack and Woollie, a grotesque travesty of a human being, whose sentiments toward children are presented as hideously warped feelings of affection. The climax they build to is a tour-de-force of suspense, in which Woollie's abduction of Ian is abetted by miscommunication, duplicitous motives and a freakish but plausible succession of near discoveries and cliffhanger escapes, all expertly set up in the early chapters. Ingeniously imbedded reflections of family ties, personal responsibility and even the esthetics of horror fiction give the narrative substance without ever slowing its relentless, cinematic pace. (July) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved