British journalist/ghostwriter Robotham’s first novel is a masterful riff on I Confess with a psychologist substituting for the embattled priest.

Professor Joe O’Laughlin is shocked to hear about the murder of Catherine Mary McBride, the Liverpool nurse he’d treated for self-mutilation who responded by coming on to him and crying rape. He’s even more disturbed when he realizes that one of his current patients, Bobby Moran, fits DI Vincent Ruiz’s description of the sadistic killer. Bobby’s nightmares and violent behavior, together with compelling circumstantial evidence, make Joe itch to share his suspicions with Ruiz despite his secular priesthood’s promise of confidentiality, and eventually he gives in. But it’s already too late: Ruiz, pointing to baffling discrepancies in Joe’s description of Bobby and Joe’s lack of alibi for the fatal night, arrests Joe for murder. So far, so predictable—especially the hoary reason Joe can’t say where he was when Catherine was killed. When Joe turns detective in order to save his skin, however, his narrative takes off, for he’s both desperate and drastically competent, fully a match for the demon bent on destroying his livelihood, his family, his home and his life.

Readers will forget their own jobs, meals and families while they race to find out which one of his targets the killer actually hits before he’s brought down.

Joe O'Loughlin, a London psychologist, loves his job and loves his family—wife Julianne and eight-year-old daughter Charlie—even more in Australian author Robotham's well-written, if somewhat convoluted, debut suspense novel. O'Loughlin's life takes two disastrous turns: first, he's diagnosed with Parkinson's disease; second, while helping Det. Insp. Vincent Ruiz on the case of a murdered nurse, Catherine Mary McBride, he becomes the primary suspect in the killing. The crime occurred close to O'Loughlin's London home, giving him opportunity, and it turns out that McBride had been his patient and had accused him of harassment, giving him plenty of motive. Vivid characters mostly avoid stereotype, while a fast and furious last section makes up for a wealth of asides and anecdotes that, however effectively done, slow the narrative. More seriously, the book can't decide whether it's a psychological mystery or a conspiracy thriller and strains credibility well past the breaking point. Still, Robotham shows real promise, putting a fresh spin on the familiar crime fiction trope of the falsely accused man.