As always the consummate story-teller, Grisham unfolds the plot of his latest work as a series of convoluted nerve-ends, sure to titillate his reader's eager expectations. Beginning in a minimum-security prison in Florida, where a triumvirate of incarcerated judges - the eponymous Brethren - are operating a scam to extort money from closet homosexuals (the word "shaft" here takes on a whole new meaning), the plotline then reaches out to encompass the threat of a new Russian warlord and an attempt by the director of the CIA to install his own man in the White House. Grisham will never be hailed as a great prose stylist, but his documentary-type delivery does superbly convey the dread possibility that the awful scenarios he writes about may actually take place. In particular, here, the manner in which the CIA chief orchestrates his candidate's campaign bears a factual ring, certainly in the light of past and present political chicanery on our own doorstep. The one thing that this particular novel lacks is a truly sympathetic character. The three judges are all obnoxious in their various ways, while the director of the CIA, one Teddy Maynard, is as cold and calculating as a robot. So, no Tom Cruise or Julia Roberts clones to empathise with, only a succession of low-lifes who will be difficult to cast when the film tie-in comes round.