Knife, Jo Nesbø

There’s no end to the fever – once I’ve taken a liking to Jo Nesbø‘s novels, they’ve been on my to-read list one after the other. Of course, one of the reasons is the vacation, which itself implies reading, but also the very convenient application Bookmate, which is the easiest way to find new reading.

So, “Knife” is the twelfth novel in the Harry Hole series, and I was a little afraid that Nesbø would kill him in the end, because in the novel, Harry hit rock bottom. Completely and hopelessly. After a series of vicissitudes in the previous adventure, Harry Hule returned to the police force, but with the lowest possible rank (and salary) – in the meantime, Rahela (wife) threw him out of the house and he again indulged in alcohol. And to such an extent that one day he wakes up covered in blood and with complete amnesia about the previous evening. The collapse begins. And after the news that will completely tear him, the question arises as to how long he will survive. On top of all that, the news that the serial rapist, who was arrested by Hule years ago, is out of prison and is ready to do nothing good.

An excellent novel. Excellent.