This could have been an interesting novel: a mystery where the detective needs to pursue an antagonist through the dreams of a sleeping city. This is not a very interesting novel. It's overcomplicated, laden with unnecessary twists and turns and layers, redolent with the sense the author isn't entirely clear on the what is what in the novel he's writing. Maybe if the author had more of a sense of how mystery novels worked, or was more willing to engage (not necessarily play by) those rules or expectations. I'm sure Berry wanted to say something about dreams and freedom and freewill and control, but he really doesn't seem here to have had the requisite skill to do what he wants to do.
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Black House by Stephen King and Peter Straub
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