I picked it up because I'd read it several times before and liked it a lot (which is why my very old copy is still with me). Flynn, a big Irishman with numerous very intelligent children and a very intelligent wife, has worked for years for a nameless, borderless super-intelligence organization. Now they want him to find out, at the request of the American president, why packages with $100,000 each have been given to every citizen in a selected area--a small Texas town, a northeastern fishing island, an intelligence department in the Pentagon. Flynn starts in Texas, but no matter where he goes, there seems to be no motive. No motive, but plenty of complaints about inflation and what paper money is, and isn't worth, today--in terms of oil, in terms of credit, in terms of how your take-home pay won't take you home anymore.Frankly, for the first time I found the book a little creepy-making for the first time. It reinforced the feeling I've had lately, that fiscally, we are all right on the edge of a cliff, waiting for someone nasty to shove us over the edge. And I don't see a big, brilliant Irish fellow with an affection for herbal tea ready to stop him, do you?It's a wonderful read, all the same, but I did have to wonder if it hadn't gone from near-future SF to mainstream fiction when I wasn't looking.
PERHAPS IT WAS READING THIS IN 18-PT LARGE PRINT EDITION--THE ONLY VERSION AVAILABLE AT THE LIBRARY. Perhaps it was fact that the recent economic messes have eclipsed the messes of the early 1980s, when McDonald wrote this book. Perhaps it was the focus on N.N. spy games rather than Flynn's family and his flat-footing around Boston. Perhaps it is simply impossible to recreate two lightening strikes in a row (Fletch and Confess, Fletch).Whatever it is, this had some very enjoyable scenes and writing, but did not blow me away. Good quick read (pages fly by with 18 pt. type), but I'm ready to check in on Fletch again.
