This novel by Anders Roslund and Börge Hellström (aka The Vault in its British edition) got such rave reviews I was eager to read it. By page 85, I was so depressed with all the miserable characters that I gave up. It is Scandinavian noir at its most noir. Two young women from Lithuania have been trafficked into being sex slaves; one of them, Lydia, is so badly beaten that she ends up in the hospital. Drug addict Hilding Oldeus is just the most miserable human being you would never want to meet, constantly looking for his next hit, no matter what the cost to himself or others. Police investigator Ewert Grens seem to have a miserable personal life as well, trapped in the memory of a police bust 25 years ago that went so horribly wrong that fellow police officer and his then fiancée was left a nearly mindless invalid. He still visits her in the care home but she doesn't know him.
The book was recommended for fans of Henning Mankel and Stieg Larsson, which I am, but I just could not persist at this point in time. Reviews in Publishers Weekly and Kirkus.
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