Like a long gulp of the titular drink, this fourth Jack Daniels thriller goes down smoothly but kicking. The colorful covers continue to grab the eye, while the sharply told story within continues to grab your gut with its paradoxical blend of darkly horrific criminals and laugh-aloud humor based mostly in one-liners and ridiculous situations. The mix is potent partly because the two elements don't always rub up against each other comfortably.

Chicago insomniac homicide cop Jacqueline "Jack" Daniels is up to her ears in family trouble again when a madman dubbed "the Chemist" goes on a poisoning rampage intended to bring the city to its knees. Saddled with an eccentric mom (fortunately on vacation with a new boyfriend), a father she didn't know she had, her killer house cat Mr. Friskers, her loyal but suddenly reticent partner Herb (who transfers to Robbery because he's tired of saving Jack and/or almost getting killed on a continuous basis), and a marriage proposal from accountant boyfriend Latham, you might think Jack doesn't have time to mess around with crazed mass murderers, but you'd be wrong. Jack can't resist a challenge, so once roped into the trap of heading the investigation (costing her career if she fails, showing how good women cops can be if she succeeds), she bites hard into the poison apple that is this latest case. As Jack Daniels readers know, she tends to transfer her anxiety over personal problems into tenacity on the job, a tenacity well-blended with her darkly humorous perspective.

Naturally, The Chemist soon develops a bizarre relationship with Jack, toying with her in classic "Dirty Harry" style (the phone-driven ransom drop) even as he targets cops all around her with his deadly traps. As is usually the case, only rough sketches of the criminal are allowed, so we can't determine his identity. The matter-of-fact way in which he targets innocents gives this otherwise light novel its darkest edge, reminding us that a determined terrorist would have little trouble taking down dozens, if not hundreds, of fellow citizens with very few materials and not all that much knowledge.

Narrating in a deadpan comic pseudo-noir first-person that alternates with the Chemist's sketchy but creepy point of view, Konrath will keep you in stitches even as the killer parades around the city, dosing random innocents with rare toxins and diseases. Of course, he has a grand finale in mind, but will Jack catch on before it's too late? Konrath's thrillers are sometimes shockingly dark, yet breezy and fun—all action and humor, perfectly laid out for the screenwriter. If you like the taste of this Dirty Martini, stock the bar and mix up a Whiskey Sour, Bloody Mary, and Rusty Nail, too. Your funny bone may never be the same. And you may never look at a salad bar the same way, either.