What, double take, is that a toupee dangling from another hotel  balcony suicide? And I’m trying to keep a straight face writing this. And worse still, future hotel guests want to rent the same room, in hope of osmotically drawing in the bear’s wealth and prestige. None of this will make any sense unless you have dipped into the make-believable world of Mr. Davidson.

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The book is so real, right down to that  ‘Bismillah’ graffiti on the wall of a textile factory in Ciudad Del Este in Paraguay or the cascading waters of Iguazu Falls that skirts the nearby borders of Brazil, Paraguay and Argentina; you can even feel the mist enveloping you as jostle for space amongst other  tourists taking selfies  with the help of long ‘selfie’ poles.

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Even on the remote  windswept shores of the west coast of Ireland, the little village of Cleggan takes on a curious life of its own – Fish and Chips at Oliver’s Pub only 13 Euros. And those castles near Shannon where Harry and Sasha fly out for clandestine assignments?

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It’s a Google Earth treasure trove, taking us to exotic locations, from Brazil, Paraguay, and Israel to Monaco. It’s the story that counts most, everything else is just a well thought out prop. Krystal, Harry, Sasha, Robert, Ronan, Shurgin, and other unsavoury neckless characters bring to life The Incubus Vendetta.

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Krystal follows up from this book which is a psychological thriller   that guided the book to a satisfactory Davidson resolution, meaning it was fucking brilliant in so many ways.

But knowing what Krystal went through in this book, adds even another layer in the novel ‘Krystal’. Serial killers usually end up dying by their own sword. But in the end, I was actually willing somehow for Shurgin to be rescued and reformed.

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Retiring in Brazil with a young mistress seemed like a fitting ending for someone of bullish standing. I had images of Putin wrestling bears and riding bareback  in the wilds  of Siberia  when Davidson described Shurgin toward the end of the book. There was so much ‘yep this is plausible’ going on  that I was beginning to  question how close was the author to the events that transpired in The Incubus Vendetta.

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More than we’d ever know, no doubt.

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Yet one question looms out of the fog of espionage.

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Who intercepted that Panamanian registered freighter?

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My bet it was the Israelis.