I feel compelled to report that at the moment of death, my entire life did not pass before my eyes in a flash . . . What I experienced was a little voice piping up in an outraged tone: âeoeOh come on. Youâe(tm)re not serious. This is really it?âe It was a Monday early in December when Kinsey Millhone first got involved in the Isabelle Barney murder case. She was out of work. Attorney Lonnie Klingmanâe(tm)s usual private investigator had just dropped dead of a heart attack. Kinsey was more than happy to oblige. The trouble started on the very first day of the investigation. Either Kinseyâe(tm)s predecessor was incompetent âe" or someone had been getting away with murder. And next time it might turn out to be hers . . . âe~Terrific build-up to a satisfyingly shocking climax. This edges Kinsey to the top of my personal American private-eye hit paradeâe(tm) The Times