This book made me very very angry - even when I enjoyed it.
Here's the thing: Someone is killing patients at Boston Memorial, and the reasons are confusing - but two people are close to realizing that something is going on, so the killer must act. One, Cassi Kingsley, is a former pathology resident who has switched to psychiatry, and the other is her friend Robert, who is still in pathology. They've noticed a pattern in deaths that don't have proper explanations. Cassi's husband, Thomas, is a superstar of the cardiology ward, and a surgeon of top class - he wants her to stop, as if these deaths have a medical reason, it will bring down the hospital. And the murderer wants these investigations to stop as well, for obvious reasons.
Sounds neat, right? Well, it is. Except that the book was written in the 80s, and here's the 'getting mad' part.
Thomas is annoyed that Cassi is associating with a 'known homosexual' like Robert. Other homosexuals in the book are likened to AIDS as a sort of causal result of their lifestyle (this from a doctor, *sigh*). Oh, and when Cassi starts to wonder about her husband's sanity, everyone tells her to calm down, stand by her man, etc. She also constantly thinks things like, "If my husband left me, my life would fall apart! What would I do?!" He's emotionally abusive, and she takes it as if it is her due. Sexism is rampant throughout the book, Cassi has all the resolve of a wet noodle, never trusts herself without her husband's opinion, won't schedule necessary eye surgery because her husband hasn't chatted it over with her yet, and dear criminy I'll stop now, before I blow a vein or something. Urk.
Honestly, in its day I'll bet this was quite the reading experience, but in today's standards, Cassi reads terribly. It's painful to watch her, frustrating to see her unable to help herself, and the attitudes of most of the hospital make you want to punch something. Certainly, this thriller kept my pulse racing, but mostly in anger.
'Nathan