C. T. Ferguson is the scion of a wealthy Baltimore family (his given name is, I kid you not, Coningsby). His only distinctions are skills at martial arts and computer hacking. He just returned from three years in Hong Kong, during which he helped some dissidents out and spent a horrific 19 days in a Chinese prison, before being deported.

Now he wants nothing more than to spend his parents’ money, but they are determined to make something of him. They’ve offered him a deal – work for free at some occupation that helps people, and they’ll provide a generous allowance. After some dithering, he settles on becoming a private eye. Thus he is The Reluctant Detective.

C. T. doesn’t really know anything about private investigation, beyond what he’s learned from TV and novels. But he sets up his office and goes to work. His first case is, as might be expected, a domestic. Alice Fisher is convinced her husband is cheating on her. C. T. uses his hacking skills to examine the husband’s life, does some discreet surveillance, and decides the man is faithful – even devoted. But now he’s curious about Alice, the wife. There are certain irregularities in her life that make him suspicious about what this whole exercise is in service of. Then somebody gets killed, and C. T. is hip deep in trouble and danger.

The Reluctant Detective wasn’t awful. The prose was generally good, which is a distinction in our times. But two elements kept me from getting engaged in the story.

First of all, I didn’t like the hero/narrator. C. T. never comes to life as a character, or inspires sympathy. His actions and thoughts seem uncoordinated, not rising from any central motivational core. I had the idea the author might have intended him to be a modern Lord Peter Wimsey, but Dorothy Sayers did it better. Perhaps C. T. needs to get a monocle.

Secondly, I didn’t believe the story. The author seems to be as clueless about the law, police procedure, and what a private detective does as his hero is. He seems to think that P.I.s carry some kind of official authority. He thinks a private citizen can just waltz into a police station and drop into an interrogation observation room without being challenged. And he greatly overestimates the willingness of cops to invite P.I.s into their investigations (even when, as in the case, the cop is the P.I.’s cousin). He also raises intuition to the level of evidence, which just doesn’t wash.

I read The Reluctant Detective all through, and that sets it above a lot of other books. But I really don’t recommend it. Cautions for language, as you’d expect.