Polo Levington is the son of a famous detective with an eidetic memory, a traumatic past, and an obsession with coffee. He’s also a writer with an assignment he doesn’t want. The job takes him to a film studio in Buenos Aires to observe a day’s shooting for a new feature, The Last Farewell. After that, he’s to interview the film’s female lead, Virginia Sinclaire, and write an article for Cine Azur magazine.

But The Last Farewell is a star-crossed production. First, the pompous leading man, Victor Dumas, stabs an actor during a take. The knife is a stage prop, but the actor’s wounds are real enough. Then Ms. Sinclaire keels over dead in front of the camera. And if that weren’t enough, Polo finds Dumas’s body in the studio, an apparent suicide.

The police conclude Dumas is responsible for all three incidents, but that explanation doesn’t satisfy Polo. Encouraged by a young actress Clara Bourque, he reluctantly assumes the role of detective and vows to determine the “real truth.” He soon realizes there is a connection between these two deaths and another one that occurred in a film studio twenty years earlier. Polo battles against his personal demons and the killer to avoid becoming the next victim and solve the case.

The Last Review isn’t always a smooth read. For the first several chapters, the action stays stuck in the film studio. As I progressed through the book, I found, the writer’s over-fondness for similes becomes increasingly distracting. I also thought the concluding chapter was unnecessarily long and didn’t have much significance.

Given the South American setting, I expected the story to prominently feature Buenos Aries. But other than an occasional mention of a street or a district, it could occur in any generic city.

Even with these imperfections, I ended up liking the book. The pace does pick up as the story unfolds, ultimately piquing the reader’s interest. Clues along the way gradually explain the connection between the present and the past, but don’t give away anything until the end. In the denouement, Polo channels Hercule Poirot in Murder on the Orient Express, yet the déjà vu that scene evokes is more comforting than troubling. The storyline is solid enough to keep the reader invested until the the final page.