This book was enormously entertaining, and took two hours to read, only marginally longer than it took to write. The story involves a super handsome, hyper intelligent millionaire explorer / playboy and his relentless search for the Mansonesque gang of hippy misfits who butchered his film star wife in the name of Satan, and it cracks along at quite a lick, especially as author Avallone keeps his foot on the accelerator by having lots of one sentence paragraphs.
Yes, he does.
Definitely.
There is no question of that.
No question at all.
The Mansonesque gang are only playing at being Satanists, of course, and the relentless search of our hero (did you notice he's called Phillip St. George?) mainly involves him getting his lawyer to get him a long list of stuff like smoke grenades and a cigarette lighter with a gun in it and then idly hanging around the scene of the crime and waiting for the murderers to come back. When they do eventually return, St. George stuffs the miscreants full of psychotropic drugs and subjects them one by one to all manner of psychological torture while they cry and soil themselves.
That'll learn 'em.
Definitely.
There is no question of that.
No question at all.
I think perhaps the author had ingested a little too much Moorcock
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