James Siegel's debut novel navigates you through the horror of investigative discovery no different than a movie director. Siegel presents glimpses of a killer that no one ever knew existed. And he does it so well.

Long-retired PI William Riskin moved through the course of his life without ever enjoying it. A broken marriage because of his wife's affair with one of his partners nearly kills him. He is also haunted by the senseless death of a child while he was on duty as a security guard, years later. His belief that the past is buried is proved wrong when he receives a newspaper from an off-track betting patron. The obit of the very person who tipped him off about his wife's infidelity is in the paper. It isn't respect that leads him to Jean Goldblum's funeral in Flushing or on a flight out of Long Island Airport with destination set for Miami. It is that "one case of a lifetime," Goldblum's lifetime, and now through inheritance, his own. The strange part of it all is there is no actual crime. No "visible" photographs of a grizzly scene and no loved one interested in learning the truth.

William has to dig for clues. He does have something to go by. After the funeral, Jean's landlord, Rodriguez, gives him a box with a little black book of proverbs, a few names and numbers and souvenirs. The names lead to a series of dead ends, for Samuels, Shankin, Timinsky, Palumbo and Winters aren't at the addresses listed. Each time William arrives at an address only to discover that Jean had been there first. One of the individuals William makes contact with is a high-priced prostitute, which is a little bit too much for William to handle at his age and after having too many drinks. He's barely hanging in there at 70.

Another obstacle in the case is the impression that 12 individuals went to Florida and simply disappeared. Only one man was spared. The others indirectly revealed a single clue, a postcard stating that the weather is great and they were fine.

William slowly tries to unravel this difficult case with the assistance of his neighbors: Mr. Brickman, who lives for gossip and is traumatized by poor Mr. Wilson's mugging. Quiet Mr. Weeks, who holds suggestive photographs of the prostitute, which were Jean's. Weeks informs William that Jean tried his hand at security years before and was hoping to start over with a one-man agency. But it was the thin, red file that demanded William's attention. Jean gave it to Mr. Weeks because he knew he'd look at the information and should anything happen to him, it wouldn't be lost forever. And then there's Mrs. Simpson, who suspects something weird is going on in her own background. Though, William doesn't meet her until the very end of the book.

EPITAPH is more than aches and pains and regret. This book is going to take you by the collar and hold on to you so tight that you suffer right along with William. The victims of past atrocities may no longer have voices, but sometimes justice does win in the end.

5 out of 5 TRENCHCOATS
-Denise Fleischer, GWN Book Reviewer
12/29/2001