by Warren Murphy
His name was Remo and he felt foolish wearing the coarse brown monk's robe.
Two for Remo
If the two men in the lobby had worn neon sandwich boards, they could not have been more obvious. They sat facing each other, their head leaned forward, talking. Each time the elevator door opened, the looking up, and then finding nothing of interest, put their heads back together. When Remo came out of the elevator, their eyes locked on him and they nodded at each other, imperceptibly.
He was not going to be grabbed by them outside. If they wanted to talk to him, they could use the lobby. He hadn't long to wait. The two men sidled up to him and Remo decided they were not policemen; they moved too well.
Both were tall. One was Italian-looking and lean. The other was burly, and his skin tended toward yellow, some kind of Oriental. Both men had the same kind of eyes, though, humorless and somehow connected with the profession of crime--either solving it or committing it.
Remo know the eyes well. He saw them every morning when he shaved. Yes, it looked like he'd have to get real nasty with these two goons, Maybe arrange a sudden end to stupid careers.
Review: This book contains a plot line which will become a staple of several of the later books; an identity crisis. Remo loses his memory and doesn't know he's Remo any more. Instead, he thinks he's a Mafia hitman. This was fairly well done, and the missing memory plot was fresh and new when this book was published. I enjoy this novel, it's not a classic, but has enough action and adventure to be worthy of another look.
Summit Chase earns a healthy .