The Collectors

Clark Kent lives in Metropolis – which we all recognize as a fictional place – and, knowing that, we can go along with anything that happens there, like the way that simply slipping on a pair of eyeglasses hides the secret identity of Superman.

David Baldacci sets his thriller “The Collectors” in Washington DC, and since we know that place exists, it is a little more difficult to accept those single-bound leaps beyond believability.

Bringing back the eclectic Camel Club from a previous novel, Baldacci sends the aging protagonists on the trail of a spy ring. Members of the informal group, led by a former CIA hit-man who now calls himself Oliver Stone, are little more than misfits, but the ex-spy keeps them on the trail by pulling clues out of thin air, the way many fictional detectives manage to do.

The second storyline is too strong to be called a sub-plot, and might have made a better stand-alone book. The daughter of a career conman sets out to scam the casino owner responsible for her mother’s death. Unfortunately, the book ends with the casino owner on his way to exact his revenge for the theft of his money, a cliff-hanger for the obvious sequel.

Meanwhile, the Camel Club detectives finally discover that a coworker has been donning a hat and a fake beard and completely fooling everyone as to his identity. While comic book readers have accepted the Clark Kent glasses disguise for decades, it is pretty hard to believe that a US Government employee can’t recognize a long-term coworker wearing a silly hat and fake beard.

Still, his writing style is compelling, and the eccentric characters are a hoot. It’s too bad Baldacci didn’t split the book into two separate stories, but readers know that’s exactly what sequels are for.