"Hell, there are no rules here. We're trying to accomplish something." 
 - Thomas Alva Edison, on creating the first electric grid. 
 Jeffery Deaver clearly embodies Thomas Edison's concept of genius: a talented man who does his homework. He's crammed so much knowledge into this book, I'm less tempted to label it Fiction, Crime than Reference, Electricity. Now, if only he'd tossed more spark in the prose, I might have rated the story a five. 
 Unless the problem was Lincoln Rhyme. 
 Not to declare myself un-cool, but resourceful inventor, Charlie Sommers, would have provided a far more fun (read likeable) central character than the ornery criminologist. For that reason alone, I'll probably pass if I stumble upon another Rhyme--but not necessarily works by Deaver. 
 In illustrating the perils of weaponry fashioned from electricity, the author definitely made his point. 
 Weeks after reading the final page, I still can't vacuum or iron clothes if my feet aren't strapped into rubber-soled shoes.