Gerold Frank's book on the Boston Strangler case will probably remain the definitive work on the case; despite conspiracy theorists who want to claim that someone else was the killer, Albert DeSalvo remains the only convincing suspect, and this account, only occasinally marred by tabloid-ish prose, is the best account I've ever read of the crimes and their effects on the city of Boston (including some moments of indavertent comedy). Frank takes us not only to the scenes of the killings, but to the corridors of the Massachusetts State House, the offices of the various police stations around Boston, and into the stranger reacher of Boston as the case becomes a political football and the police, in the days before psychological profiling and DNA testing, attempt to talk to anyone considered sexually deviant in hopes of running down clues to the killer's identity. And then he gives a good account of the maneuverings between the police, the Massachusetts Attorney General, and DeSalvo's lawyer, F. Lee Bailey, whose motives waver between a cynical desire for publicity and a genuine hope to get his client psychiatric treatment. Ultimately rather bleak, but undeniably engrossing