I imagined this collection of stories, billed as 'linked by the background narrative of the arrest of a serial killer' would be sensational and gory. But I couldn't have been more wrong; each story gently deals with the life of a different woman with only peripheral connections to the crimes. The lives described are sad and unfulfilled, but overall the book manages not to be depressing. It's the sort where you need to pause after each chapter before starting on the next.
A winter evening in Vancouver, a high-school parking lot, the inside of my Chevette lit up by the dome light. Outside, the darkening sky, the colours leeched out of everything: evergreens, grass, the mountains, all muted like dull iron, metal shadows. I rolled up my window and turned on the radio, punched through the stations, then turned it off again. Too many heartfelt, sentimental songs for a grey and lonely night - unrequited love, avenged love, young love, who the hell cared? I stared down at the two amphetamine capsules in my hand and sighed.