Page 45 Review by Stephen
First two hardcovers in a single volume. Of book one, I wrote:
Slick and intense European thriller in which we get inside the head of a hitman who seems so disengaged from humanity that it's all facts and figures, an endless stream of self-justification for being a cool-hearted killer without a care in the world.
"Don't talk to me about justice or morals. Even God himself I wouldn't listen to. Not with His track record. I take orders from no one. I report to no one. I have a single motive for what I'm doing: money... I help rich people kill one another. Poor people, they can't afford me. They handle it themselves. And they end up in jail for life."
Normally he researches then executes his assignments calmly, methodically, all around the world. Patience is the one virtue he would own to possessing, but this time his target hasn't even shown, and it's starting to unsettle him...
Like CRIMINAL, this gets right under the skin of the individual in question who makes more than a few valid points about our own culpabilities, whilst the art is lush with jagged jungle leaves, classily coloured and splinters expressionistically as the pressure builds to force this most dispassionate of men to make a critical blunder. At which point everything unravels, and he's forced from his natural comfort zone into an environment he does not control.
Of book two:
Welcome to the return of the ruminative assassin. Here he's particularly preoccupied with the disadvantages of dying in your sleep. And whom it is wise to hang out with.
"The hard part is not the loneliness. The hard part is choosing the right people to have around you, when you finally decide to have people around you. Loneliness offers guarantees that vanish as soon as you try and trust someone. Stepping away from it is running a risk. Especially for me."
You never do know whom he should trust. It's a source of suspense which builds and builds.
Previously even the man he'd always placed the greatest trust in, long-time accountant Edward, turned out to be capable of treachery and pretty stupid into the bargain. Edward had been the conduit in a contract on a man called Martini, and then gone one further and tried to take out The Killer himself. It didn't really work out for Edward, no.
Now lying low in luxurious seclusion, our anti-hero is visited by a man called Mariano, god-son to a Columbian drug baron called Padrino. Seems Martini was one of three men Padrino had set up in high society Paris in order to distribute his wares. The way Padrino sees it, taking out Martini has caused him some serious inconvenience even though The Killer saw the man under police surveillance and may have done Padrino a favour in silencing him. Unconvinced, Padrino insists The Killer accepts contracts of his own in exchange for forgiveness. It remains a lucrative deal so although the worryingly talkative and inexperienced Mariano is foisted upon him, The Killer accepts.
From Buenos Aires to New York City things go (sort of) well until, while cruising down the Amazon, there's a vicious attack back home on his lover. Instinct leads him to question whether it was Padrino, but that simply doesn't add up and The Killer hates it when things don't add up. He doesn't like coincidences, either, like the assassination of a second of those three drug dealers in Paris, or being befriended by a cop who's being investigated for police brutality. Who's after him now, and what connection does it have to Martini and Edward?
There, I think I've accurately set the scene whilst leading you all astray! Your turn now to grow as paranoid on The Killer's behalf as I was this sunny Sunday afternoon.
That you will all fear for this hitman's safety is a telling testament to Matz's skills as a writer. The Killer's cogitations on his career and craft and its implication for life in general play a substantial part in this. They're well reasoned and betray a heart he denies having, as do his new sentiments towards the woman he's chosen to trust. I think you'll like the cop too.
As to Luc Jacamon, his colouring has always impressed me no end, particularly when it comes to the dappled shadows under a boulevard of trees, and I love the way that there's this constant presence throughout, even outlined in negative on the side of a building, of an Orinoco Crocodile the very essence of patient, predatory guile. He excels at details others would never think to incorporate like scaffolding, netted in green, supporting the side of already impressive edifices. There's a gorgeous sense of space no matter what he's asked to draw, in whichever country, and there's plenty of globe-trotting to be done here. I'm an enormous fan of the wit-ridden 100 BULLETS, but it can become bogged down by words whereas Matz never allows any self-indulgence to crowd out Luc Jacamon, maintaining a perfect equilibrium for a pleasurable read as smooth as the operator himself.