The detective novel “The Death of the Guitarist” is read in one breath, ends unexpectedly, yet does not disappoint with that unexpectedness, but instead makes one reflect. In each chapter, the author presents us with one candidate for the murderer—with a brief biography, motives, and opportunities. Each one’s guilt seems virtually proven. We gather information about the guitarist himself little by little from every chapter. And we change our attitude toward him at the author’s will. “He’s a saint!” it seems at first. “What a bastard!” one thinks a little later. “Serves the swine right for being killed!” comes to mind at the end.