The problem with most popular successful police/detective/suspense series is that readers and publishers demand the exact same things in the next in the series, making the series a quick parody and mockery of itself.
Nesbo seems to avoid this. Harry Hole seems just as compelling and flawed and genius as he always has.
The problem with writing books in as good a series as Nesbo’s Harry Hole story line is that sooner or later, like a first love, the bloom comes off the rose. After being wowed by an entry in the series, you somehow feel “cheated” when a next book is only “very good.”
The Thirst, while introducing a couple of new, intriguing characters (Hello Anders Wyller!) has too many clunky red herring littered throughout, creating a “fishy” plot line.
Tight, concise, skilled writing, but the overall effect is more like taking your Suzuki Estilete moped in for routine maintenance than taking it to the top of a high, steep hill in the forest and gliding down the slope with your eyes closed, hands off the handlebars, and gulping in huge draughts of cool, sweet menthol scent of pine into your soul.