Simon Riske drives again but not as fast.
Plying his ostensible trade as a restorer of sexy European sports cars, freelance spy Riske is in California shepherding a classic Ferrari through an auction. The car sells for $102 million, a record, and everyone is happy. Well, not everyone. The restoration did not include a critical piece of original equipment, for the very good reason that the piece was lost. But suddenly the buyer, Sylvie Bettencourt, receives news that the piece does exist, and she demands Riske find it and complete the restoration. Of course it's not that easy. Riske and his team had already scoured the mechanical world for the piece, and though they resume the search, there are no new leads. As a sidebar to the search for the gearbox, Riske researched Bettencourt and learned she was a major player in the process of laundering the fortunes of Russian oligarchs. Then Bettencourt blackmails Riske into helping her steal back some money she claims her superior has taken, and Riske becomes a mole spying on Bettencourt. In a further plot development, Carl Bildt, a Danish banker who managed the accounts Bettencourt services, is murdered, and his daughter Anna undertakes to find the killers. With Riske unraveling the oligarchical knot from the Bettencourt end and Anna pursuing her father's killers, the extent of the laundering scheme is revealed. But these are Russian fortunes, and there is the obligatory presence of hulking violent enforcers, callous ultrarich misogynists, and even a teasing pirouette by Novichok, a nerve agent. Riske is a raffish rogue, ready to ride or preferably drive a Ferrari in whatever quixotic enterprise presents itself, but in this adventure he is somewhat subdued—still irresistible, still a seasoned street fighter, but somehow less visceral. Intricately plotted, the novel reaches a climax that is somewhat surprising yet disappointing, as if the magician had pulled a mouse from his hat.
Riske is still Riske, and the automotive world is still the better for it.