A doctor at a European conference is forced to perform a mysterious autopsy, then spends the rest of his trip outrunning a bevy of bloodthirsty pursuers in John Lange's Zero Cool.
I may be the last person to know this was actually written by Michael Crichton back in his peanut-butter days of the late 60s. Zero Cool is a suprising departure, not nearly as dense or intense as his later, more well-known work. Our physician protagonist is as quippy as any PI of the time, is accompanied by several mysterious women and a strange, colorful supporting cast of baddies, and jetsets around several exotic locales. The combination reminds me of the James Bond movies of the era more than any sort of medical thriller. A pretty fun read overall.
I found this one in a library book sale for a shiny quarter, with a silver, 70s-style cover. It is more recently seen as part of the great Hard Case Crime series with a more appropriately retro look.
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