Prayers for the dead A Peter Decker/Rina Lazarus novel

Review by Booklist Review

Kellerman, one of crime fiction's most popular authors, has done it again. Her latest Rina Lazarus/Pete Decker mystery will extend her hot streak. It begins when L.A. cop Pete Decker is called to the scene of a grisly crime where the mutilated body of renowned heart surgeon Azor Sparks has been found. The nonsmoking, churchgoing, family-man doctor, it turns out, wasn't nearly as perfect as he would have had his adoring public believe. He had plenty of enemies, even among his own family members. The case gets personal when Decker finds, to his dismay, that his own wife has had a long and--to Decker--oddly unsettling association with the Sparks family that may impact the case. With his usual painstaking persistence, Decker follows all the leads and finally arrives at the bizarre and shocking truth. Skilled writing, an intriguing plot, and Kellerman's deft and oh-so-subtle exploration of family dynamics make this a winner all round. Headed for big sales? You bet! Buy plenty. (Reviewed July 1996)0688143679Emily Melton

From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.

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Review by Publisher's Weekly Review

Powerful, assured and absorbing, Kellerman's ninth Peter Decker/Rina Lazarus (Sanctuary; Justice) mystery begins with the brutal murder and mutilation of renowned heart surgeon, researcher and fundamentalist Christian Azor Sparks. LAPD Lieutenant Decker gets the call. He also gets an abundance of suspects. First there is Sparks's large family: his wife, Dolores, and six adult children, including triplets (Paul, Luke and Abram, a Catholic priest), and their assorted spouses. Then there are the victim's surgical and research colleagues and his unlikely biking buddies. Religion and morality are integral to Kellerman's mysteries‘built on the bedrock of the Deckers' orthodox Judaism. Here she deftly casts her net around the commanding victim, whose shadow lay equally over family and colleagues, and his son, the theologian Father Abram, whose past connection with Rina may force Decker off the case. Human strengths and frailties, decisions made or not made and mistakes overcome or yet to be reckoned with provide the material that Decker must sift through to find the murderer. As his competent staff (Marge Dunn among them) launch their probes in all directions, they uncover a catalogue of motives that may relate to Sparks's murder and to another that follows. Kellerman succeeds brilliantly in making the search for understanding as compelling as the search for the murderer. 100,000 first printing; audio rights to Brilliance. (Aug.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

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Review by Library Journal Review

Published in print in 1996, this book is best-selling mystery author Kellerman's ninth outing in the Peter Decker/Rina Lazarus series. Dr. Azor Sparks, a beloved, prominent heart surgeon, is found brutally stabbed and shot dead in his car. Among the many suspects are the members of Sparks's large family, his medical colleagues who were partnering with him to bring a revolutionary new drug to market, and his motorcycle-club friends. Actor Mitchell Greenberg does an excellent job of capturing the characters' various voices and emotions (especially noteworthy is his interpretation of a drunk). VERDICT Recommended for mystery collections and Kellerman fans. ["Kellerman offers another handsomely crafted work, full of twists and turns that keep the reader on edge to the last page," read the review of the Morrow hc, LJ 8/96.-Ed.]-Ilka Gordon, Aaron Garber Lib., Cleveland (c) Copyright 2013. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

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Review by Kirkus Book Review

For a man who often seemed to be presenting himself as God, Dr. Azor Moses Sparks met an unusually ignominious end, shot and slashed to death in the car parked in the alley behind Tracadero's restaurant. Now, everywhere Lt. Peter Decker looks, he finds riddles about the discrepancy between the gifted heart surgeon's exalted reputation and the reality of his life. Why does his large family--his wife, four sons, and two daughters- -seem more shocked than grief-stricken at the news of his death? Why did Sparks spend his weekends riding with a motorcycle gang headed by toughs named Grease Pit and Sidewinder? Why did the outspoken fundamentalist keep flamboyantly gay Dr. Reginald Decameron on his staff at New Christian Hospital? Why were the latest reports on Curedon, the anti-rejection medicine Sparks had pioneered for transplant patients, seem suddenly so much more encouraging than previous trials, and why did Decameron swipe the Curedon data from Sparks's fax? And--since Decker's own family won't be spared from the maelstrom of Sparks's murder--what's the connection between Sparks's enigmatic son Abram, who turned his back on his father's fundamentalism to become a Catholic priest, and Decker's wife Rina Lazarus? Plotting as sumptuously as P.D. James, Kellerman (Justice, 1995, etc.) uses the fashionable issues of homosexuality, religious differences, and medical ethics to reach the tormented humanity at the core of the all-too-well-named Sparks family. (First printing of 100,000)

Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

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Prayers for The Dead A Peter Decker/Rina Lazarus Novel Chapter One The living room was dimly lit, the house motionless, reminding Decker of his divorced, bachelor days -- days he'd be reliving soon if he didn't start making it home earlier. To wit: The dining room table had been cleared -- dinner long gone -- and the door to Hannah's nursery was closed, Rina nowhere in sight. Yes, she was a patient woman, but she did have limits. Decker often wondered how far she could be pushed before she'd explode on impact. Because as of yet, no one had developed a road test for wives. He placed his briefcase on the empty table, his fingers raking through thick shocks of carrot-colored hair. Ginger came trotting in from the kitchen, Decker bent down and petted the setter's head. "Hi, girl. Are you happy to see me?" Ginger's tail wagged furiously. "Well, someone's glad I'm alive. Let's go see what the crew had for dinner." Decker dragged himself into the kitchen, draped his jacket over an oak kitchenette chair, Rina had kept his dinner warming in the oven. He put on a quilted mitt and fished it out. Some kind of Chinese cuisine except, by now, the snow peas and broccoli were limp and khaki green, and the rice had developed a yellowish crust. At least the noodles appeared nice and crisp. He set the dish on top of a meat place mat and took out cutlery. Washed his hands, said a quick blessing, but paused before he sat down. He noticed a light coming from under the door of his stepsons' room. To be expected. As teens, they often went to bed later than he did. Perhaps he should say hello to the boys first. That should take all of five minutes. Kids had been preoccupied lately, hadn't seemed to have much time for quality conversation. Maybe they were peeved at the late hours he'd been keeping. The more likely explanation was typical teenage behavior. His grown daughter, Cindy, had gone through sullen moments in her adolescent years. Now she was doing postgrad work back east in Criminal Sciences. A beautiful young lady who truly enjoyed his company. Ah, the passage of time... He glanced at his withered food, eyes moving to the dog. "Don't get any ideas. I'll be right back." He knocked on the door to his sons' room. He heard Jake ask a testy "What?" Decker jiggled the doorknob. It was locked. "Someone want to open the door, please?" Scuffling noises. Desk chair wheels sliding against the floor. The lock popped open, but the door remained closed. Decker hesitated, went into the room. Both boys were at their desks, books and papers spilling over the work surface. They mumbled a perfunctory hello. Decker returned the greeting with proper articulation, and studied his sons. Sammy had grown tall this last year. At least five ten, which, according to Rina, had already made him a couple of inches taller than his late father. From the pictures Decker had seen of Yitzchak, the elder boy strongly resembled his dad -- same long face, pointed chin, and sandy hair. His complexion was smooth and fair, freckles dabbling the bridge of his nose. His eyes were dark and quiet in their intelligence. He was also nearsighted like Yitzchak; Sam wore wire-rimmed spectacles. Jake had been the one to inherit Rina's stunning baby blues, her 20/20 eyesight as well. The boys were still in their school uniform -- white shirt and navy slacks. The fringes of their prayer shawls -- their tzitzit -- were hanging past the hems of their untucked shirts. Jake wore a knitted yarmulke, its colors designed to look like a slice of watermelon. Sammy had on a black, leather kippah embossed with his Hebrew name in gold letters. "How's it going, boys?" Decker asked. "What're you doing?" Sammy put down his textbook. "A paper on the evolution of the American Ideal through the literature of Mark Twain. A real conversation stopper." He rubbed his eyes under his glasses, peered at Decker. "You look real tired, Dad. Maybe you should go eat something. I think Eema left you something in the oven." "Trying to get rid of me?" "No, I just thought..." Sammy frowned. "Jeez, try and be a nice guy around here. Do whatever you want." His eyes went back to his notes. He picked up a highlighter and started underlining. Well, that was spiffy, Deck. He shifted his weight, wondered what to do next. Jake came to his rescue. "You have a hard day, Dad?" "Not too bad." "Felons took the day off?" "Never." "But no famous people accused of murdering their wives." "No, not today." "Too bad," Jake said. "You woulda looked cool on the witness stand." "Thank you, I'll pass." Sammy said, "Jeez, Dad, where's your sense of adventure?" "Adventure is for the young," Decker said. "I'm just a stodgy old coot." "You're not a coot," Sammy said. "What is a coot anyway?" "A simpleton," Decker answered. "Nah, you're definitely not a coot." "As opposed to stodgy and old." "Well, better too stodgy than too cool." Jake grinned. "You read that article in the paper? 'Bout the father who was arrested for contributing to the delinquency of a minor or something like that with a stripper?" "What's this?" Sammy's interest was piqued. Jake guffawed as he spoke. "A father hired a stripper to perform at his son's twelfth birthday." Sam wrinkled up his nose. "That's gross." His smile was wide. "Kinda fun, I bet, but gross." Jake was doubled over. "One of the kids...told his mother. The mother complained and they arrested the guy...stupid jerk. The father said he was just trying to be a 'cool dad.'" Now Sam started chortling. "Now, why can't you be a cool dad like that?" "Your rabbaim would really love that," Decker said. Prayers for The Dead A Peter Decker/Rina Lazarus Novel . Copyright © by Faye Kellerman. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold. Excerpted from Prayers for the Dead by Faye Kellerman All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

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