Novels No. 48 (LL366)

 

K.T. Nguyen. You Know What You Did. USA: Dutton Press, 2024.

Anh (Annie) has been sandwiched between her headstrong, spiteful teen daughter Tabby and care for her disturbed immigrant mother (called Mę), an obsessive hoarder. Her mother's death, instead of relief from a worrisome burden, brings Annie haunting memories and nightmares—only hinted at—of her grim impoverished life before she met and married Duncan Shaw. Although Duncan provides a very comfortable lifestyle, Annie works casually as an interior designer, ambitious to develop as an artist; the carriage house on their property, where her mother had lived, will be perfect as a studio. The thing is, with due respect to mental health professionals and their patients, Annie's crazy as a bedbug. No wonder Tabby rebels and Duncan's endless patience is getting frayed. Mine was! Obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) to be specific. Earlier treatment for it, from psychiatrist Lily Patel, is no longer working and Annie refuses to see her again.

Annie seems destined to endure blow after blow. First mom, then her beloved therapy dog dies. Her biggest client, Byrdie Fenton, causes her a huge disappointment and later, shockingly, is found murdered. Annie's brain seems likely to explode or implode from stress coupled with chronic reminders of her mother's relentless emotional abuse. It's hard to maintain empathy due to her repetitive cycles of self-torment and defensive tactics that alienate people around her. Even worse, the descriptions of her paranoid delusions are sickening. Annie comes to police attention for more than one violent incident; maybe then she, and we, will understand the tricks an unhealthy mind can perform. Are bad things happening, or are they all in Annie's head?

Who knows if the story portrays some truths about a complex OCD case? There seems no resolution for this frightened, confused, mentally battered, help-resistant woman. Toxic mother-daughter relations flavour the entire story until the action suddenly flips—which you may find credible, or not. A tense read!

Annie

▪ It wasn't necessarily a head-over-heels romance, but after fifteen years of marriage there's a lot of love between them. (19)

▪ Nasty criticisms came to Mę as naturally as breathing. (25)

▪ Obeying the commands of her obsessive disorder had become more important to Mę than her own physical needs, more important than her own child. (38)

▪ ... her nightmares have grown more vivid, more violent. Every night, she awakes sick with guilt from the carnage her unconscious mind has wrought. (41)

▪ As her vision adjusts, the figure next to her begins to take shape. A white hotel bedsheet wraps around his body, but, of course, she can tell—it's him. (112)

▪ Dr. Patel's description captures the powerlessness she feels with OCD. The endless cycle of distress, doubt, and compulsion—not being able to stop yourself even when you recognize what you're doing isn't working. (185-6)

▪ She strokes the thick, sinewy muscle of his forearm, reveling in the texture of the dark, coarse hair that is so unlike her husband's. (224)

Others

▪ "You get what you deserve, Anh. You know what you did." (25)

▪ "Can you please not overreact for once!" (52)

▪ "Have you lost your mind, Annie? Our daughter did not ... your paranoia is out of control!" (90)

▪ Dr. Patel described a lesser-known type of the disorder, a form of contamination-based OCD characterized by intense disgust. The human brain, as a means of self-preservation, is hardwired to be repulsed by "disgusting" stimuli— (94)

▪ "Your mother may be gone, but the more irrationally you behave, the more I see her in you." (140)

▪ They stored food inside the oven. It was one of only a few places safe from the rats that roamed freely about the house. (157)

▪ "It seems Miss Fenton was gradually poisoned. Hence, the coroner's classification of homicide." (196)

Elly Griffiths. The Last Word. USA: Mariner Books (UK: Quercus Editions Ltd.), 2024.

Mild curiosity: compare with Taylor Adams' The Last Word? (No. 19, LL337) I'd looked on the latter very favourably, but there is no comparison other than both books are about writers. Writers—especially crime fiction writers—are clearly a hot topic for ... crime writers.

Here we are with writers dropping dead of heart attacks. Or is something more sinister afoot? Private detectives eighty-four-year-old Edwin and his partner Natalka, much younger and gorgeous, are investigating at the behest of writer Melody Chambers' daughters. Who suspect a poisoning death by her second husband Alan. It's not long before similar deaths of other writers are noted, not only by the team but by policewoman D.I. Harbinder Kaur. Edwin and Benedict—Edwin's best friend and Natalka's boyfriend—sign up to attend a writers' weekend retreat at Battle House, perhaps the common denominator among the several deceased. They are about to make new friends.

Leonard Norris and Imogen Blythe are the retreat's coaches. Although Ben the coffee shop owner is secretly an aspiring writer, it's Edwin who is comfortable, even charming, with the pretense of being a crime writer. Finding in a pond the dead body of their new friend Sue, girlfriend of heart attack victim Malcolm Collins, brings the retreat to an abrupt halt. Murder is the verdict, but so many suspects! Our team flails at interviewing them all, improvising theories (the indeterminate flailing is relieved by the characters' saucy dialogue and antics). Then Leonard inexplicably becomes another victim; Edwin may be next in line unless he can figure out what is driving the killer.

Those who enjoy witty old folks and well-defined characters and mildly mad mysteries will love this. It is not Griffiths' first novel to introduce Edwin, Natalka, and Benedict.

[Another mystery: Why does the title page say "A Ruth Galloway Mystery" when Griffiths' well-known protagonist does not appear whatsoever in these pages?]

Bits

▪ "You shouldn't take it so seriously," Benedict's mother told him when he expressed a wish to give up meat for Lent. (39)

▪ Once more, Benedict feels a stab of jealousy. It's very childish to be jealous because the teacher prefers your friend to you but there it is. (90)

▪ "This is a police investigation." She's addressing all three of them now. "I don't want amateurs involved." (130)

▪ "I can cry if you like," offers Valentyna. "I'm good at acting." (169)

▪ "I wrote about prep school," says Edwin. "Boarding school is very useful if you want instant trauma." (196)

▪ He's not sure how he feels about the effect his girlfriend has on every member of the male sex but he supposes it's useful if it stops them being murdered. (201)

▪ "That's the good thing about not having children," says Pietro. "You don't have to worry about them growing up to despise you." (247)

▪ "It's about who Melody loved the most," says Alan. "And I can't help it if that was me." (192)

Clues?

▪ "I just wanted to say," she says, "I know it's your first time here, but you need to be a bit wary of Imogen." (69)

▪ "There's not much time," says the voice. "We have to be brutal. It's the only way." (80)

▪ "Malcolm sent her some pages he'd written and she didn't even bother to answer." (107)

▪ "I thought he was a nasty character. He talked about writing cannibalism books for children." (138)

▪ "I just want to see whether he's a bit free and easy with prescriptions. Or if he offers you something dodgy." (169)

▪ "Oh my God. Did you get the messages? About being scared and there being evil in the air?" (253)

▪ "There's something we're missing. I'm sure of it. 'If only I hadn't.' Why did Imogen set that task in the first place?" (284)

Novels No. 47 (LL365)

 

Clare Pooley. How To Age Disgracefully. Toronto: Viking, 2024.

Not a scrounge, a purchase, which of course must next go into our in-house library. Someone dies, but it's not a crime novel. Osman's Thursday Murder Club will come to mind due to the elderly age factor, although here we have a squabbling gang of eccentric individuals. A seniors social club at the Mandel Community Centre is what pulls them together, and saving it from city-proposed destruction becomes a slightly unifying force of protest. Daphne is front and centre of the brand new seniors' group, opinionated warrior woman with no filters. Art is a mediocre actor with few gigs these days; his inseparable friend William is a retired photo-journalist. Anna had been a long-haul truck driver, now deftly piloting a mobility scooter. Ruby is a therapeutic-knitting champ. Menopausal Lydia is the hapless underpaid worker in charge of their entertainment.

Ah, but this is not merely a seniors' romp. The Centre hosts other worthy programs like the karate club, prenatal classes, AA meetings, and a childcare nursery. The latter greatly benefits teenage Ziggy, accidental single father of baby Kylie. A shoplifting habit, yarn bombing, illicit drug running, internet dating, and covert surveillance help explain the chaotic introductory scene, to which the reader may return from time to time. Collaboration on a gender-neutral Nativity play performed by the nursery element with seniors assisting (and a scruffy dog called Margaret Thatcher) is a highlight for persuading the city to keep the Centre. If only Daphne would stop shouting and scaring everyone—she fell naturally into a leadership role despite (or because of?) a background she keeps well hidden. No one's problem is too hopeless for her to solve.

It's hard to stop laughing at the unconventional characters and their advocacy efforts that fly haphazardly in all directions. Admire the wordsmith perfection; read, laugh, love!

Daphne

▪ She Googled "hook-up," which, it transpired, was all about sex. Daphne hadn't had sex for over fifteen years, and wasn't sure it all still worked. (41)

▪ She was going to have to attend this ghastly council meeting. No one was closing down the Senior Citizens' Social Club on her watch. (63)

▪ She appeared to have jumped out of the frying pan of sexism and into the fire of ageism. The final frontier of isms. (65)

▪ "So you two are my best friends?" said Daphne. William and Art started laughing. What looked like genuine belly laughs. (114)

▪ "STOP RIGHT THERE, EDWARD FUCKING SCISSOR-HANDS!" came a shout. Daphne. Obviously. (199)

▪ "Well, luckily I've never aimed for nice," said Daphne. "That sort of wishy-washy adjective is much more your bag." (230)

Others

▪ "Part of the ceiling came down, and someone died." (36)

▪ "Or if you wanted to go farther afield, which might be good for you, the universities all have arrangements for single parents." (57)

▪ "She hated me for seducing her perfect only child, and never forgave him for marrying someone brown from Bangladesh, rather than a blonde from the local pony club." (79)

▪ "Lydia," he said, as he turned away from her and made his way up the stairs. "You're drunk, hormonal, and delusional. Hopefully by the morning you'll have pulled yourself together." (77)

▪ "Just doing my bit," said Anna, peeling off her leather jacket to reveal an AC/DC T-shirt. "Luckily, this ain't my first rodeo." Lydia had no idea what she meant by that. (103)

▪ And if he ever did have sex in the future, he was wearing a full-body condom. He'd make sure none of those suckers ever got loose again. (125)

▪ "And due to decades of Tory government austerity and the inadequacy of Universal Credit, Mary and Joseph had to travel to Bethlehem to visit the food bank." (148-9)

OOPS >>> Daniel Cole. The Hangman. USA: HarperCollins, 2018.

Still scrounging fillers from here and there. Oh dear. Looks like I arrived in the middle of something—much reference to the previous novel featuring the same cop and the serial killer she caught, a man whose bizarre murder method is being copy-catted. DCI Emily Baxter is the brusque, impatient Brit policewoman who thought she was finished with it all, but agents Curtis (FBI) and Rouse (CIA) want her assessment of a similarly outlandish murder in New York. References to colleagues and former activities quickly became interruptive or incomprehensible, so it was either abandon the book or look up the author. The latter, of course.

And that, indeed, revealed that what I'd latched onto was the second book in a trilogy, the first being called Rag Doll. There's just too much prior context clearly invested in The Hangman, so for once I'm calling it quits. The synopsis of Rag Doll looks as gruesome as this one seems to be; not going there, thanks.

A.J. Finn. End of Story. Ebook download from TPL. USA: William Morrow, 2024.

A quirk of fate landed me with both the e-book and the paper copy at the same time. I switched from former to latter part way, thanks to the unreliable antics of my tablet. Quotes with an E page number indicate from the ebook.

Sebastian Trapp is the eminently successful author of mystery novels featuring gentleman sleuth Simon St. John. Having enjoyed a mutually spirited correspondence with Nicky Hunter—a literary critic of crime fiction— Sebastian invites her to "write his story." He seems to intend a type of memory book for family posterity—the man is slowly dying of renal failure. Nicky arrives at his overwhelming San Francisco mansion almost speechless with hero worship. Given the man's ability to mask personal feelings, she's not sure if he will talk about the mystery surrounding him for twenty years—the mystery of his young son Cole and first wife Hope utterly vanishing at the same time but from different places. Public speculation has attributed every imaginable scenario, including that Sebastian murdered and disposed of them.

Second wife Diana is hospitable and sensible, calmly coping with Sebastian's theatrical outbursts; is the man bipolar? Nicky meets affable nephew Freddy, his hovering mom Simone, and new friend Jonathan. Daughter Maddy, feeling useless, unworthy of her father, resents Nicky getting his attention. All contribute stories to Nicky; her preliminary work pleases Sebastian. Unknown to anyone, Nicky had been a school-assigned childhood penpal with Cole; his fate in particular has her detective instincts quivering. After ever-so-carefully building the setting, the author brings Cole into the picture as a virtual presence—the child who was unmercifully bullied—and events turn deadly. Be aware that in the end, suspending your disbelief could be problematic even if you think you scrupulously collected clues along the way. Finn generates disturbing twists or more mysteries on almost every page; nothing is linear.

One accustoms oneself to the often choppy narrative; these characters are on edge, facing the imminent loss of the capricious giant in their lives. A breathless chase through Chinatown is but one memorable episode. Crafty story-telling, to maximum effect. Surprisingly (isn't it always?): an "off of" writer.

Bits

▪ "And thanks, but tomorrow I'm scheduled to be overweight and out of shape all day, so I must decline." (E98)

▪ She's a stout woman, on the downward slope of her sixties, wearing a ruby red top, billowy yellow slacks, green sandals. She looks, Nicky thinks, like a traffic light. (E113)

▪ Who could possibly know about Magdala? (125)

▪ She hasn't told Cole about Nicky, has she? The girl their father is ... well, using, isn't he? Manipulating? To shape his legacy or something? (165)

▪ Floating in the water is a woman, facedown, hair sprayed about her head, her back and arms bare. (224)

▪ "You're—ever since you got here for this pointless, moronic memory book, everything's gone wrong. Everything's wrong, Nicky!" (249)

▪ "They even asked if he reminded me of anybody! Meaning Cole. As if I wouldn't recognize my own nephew." (262)

Sebastian

▪ Just sitting before her, he seemed to radiate energy, like a dying star. (E37)

▪ "Life is hard. After all, it kills you." (E75)

▪ He's speaking in his whitewater voice, that full-boil roar that rushes around corners and bursts through walls. (E127)

▪ Maybe this is all a game for him. (167)

▪ "Stay as long as you like," he calls. "Die here." (172)

▪ "Do you know why people don't like you, son? Because you're weak." (185)

▪ And in the center of the room, Sebastian is a popped bottle of champagne, fizzing and sparkling and overflowing. (201-2)

▪ "Neither one of us really wanted lives beyond those we had already led. We were each other's afterlives." (266)

▪ "I expected a son who—not deserved, but validated my survival, and would himself survive. And live. As I had not." (308)

Invitation

Your published work is searching and humane—rare qualities in a critic. You know Simon well, and of course I am a part of him just as he is a part of me. In you, Miss Hunter, I see the audience for the final story I will ever tell. I see someone who can tell it in kind to anybody who cares to know.

I'll be dead in three months. Come tell my story. (23)

Novels No. 46 (LL364)

 

Shari Lapena. Not A Happy Family. Doubleday Canada, 2021.

(Not her latest; grabbed as a filler) You can always count on Lapena for domestic drama. We meet, briefly, Sheila and Fred Merton in their upper class mansion in the Hudson Valley. Before you can say snob, they are dead ‒ murdered. Two days before the bodies are discovered, a glimpse of their Easter Sunday family dinner shows Fred's incredible contempt for his three visiting children. He recently sold his prosperous robotics business out from under son Dan without warning, leaving Dan unemployed and wife Lisa worried. Now, he plans to sell the mansion that they all knew daughter Catherine wanted to inherit. Nor does youngest daughter Jenny escape Fred's caustic temper; they've grown up with it, have seen him enjoy his cruelty. Sheila sits by, seemingly helpless. The killings, discovered by housekeeper Irena, bring detectives Reyes and Barr to their doors looking for alibis.

Speaking of inheritance, Fred's unliked sister Audrey joins an uncomfortable gathering of the Merton children. Audrey smugly announces that Fred changed his will to give her half of his considerable estate—a shocker to all, especially financially strapped Dan—only to learn quickly from the lawyer that Fred never executed it. Furious Audrey then stirs the pot to increase police suspicion on one of the family. Each of the three children has lied to the police; they all become suspicious of each other. Dan seems the most likely to break under the stress. Irena, who loves them from childhood, observes passively their intensifying anxieties. But Audrey's friend Ellen Cutter has another bomb to drop on the family.

An ongoing circular switch from one character to another—their fears, their lies, their suspicions—becomes repetitive rather than suspenseful. About two-thirds into the novel, the pace and anticipated twist takes effect, only to fade away in a rather bland finish. Not A Happy Family has the certain Lapena touch but IMO, not one of her better novels.

Bits

▪ Dan says Jenna is out of control, but Catherine knows better. Jenna uses her lifestyle as a means of control. (5)

▪ "Mom's harmless, I guess. Dad's an asshole." (7)

▪ Catherine seems her usual self—such a princess, always, in her pearls, her conventionally handsome husband chewing politely next to her. (22)

▪ No more family dinners. No more asking for money and being told no. No more demeaning digs from his father in front of other people. (61)

▪ Why would she try to hide that she went back over there that night? Why wouldn't she just say so? (89)

▪ "He was going to change his will," she says, her voice rising, all her plans crashing to the ground. (102)

▪ "I don't think he was an easy man to live with. He had a mean streak." (111)

▪ "He's my little brother. We have to protect him." (156)

▪ "I know it was one of you. And I know all your little secrets." (180)

▪ "Even after all the terrible things he did to me, I didn't kill him. And I would never kill my mother." (202)

▪ "They're clever, and selfish, and greedy, and they were fathered by a psychopath. I did my best, but I wouldn't put it past any of them." (210)

▪ She obviously feels she's owed much more for keeping quiet about what Fred did all those years ago. (257)

Louise Doughty. A Bird in Winter. UK: Faber & Faber Limited, 2023.

Still waiting for the books I've ordered, TPL: ya hear me? (Our in-house library is a lifesaver.)

This book goes from zero to sixty in the first few pages, an exciting pace for us the readers and someone nicknamed Bird, real name Heather. Suddenly leaving her work in a big city office tower, Heather is on the run, an eventuality she somehow always expected. What's happening is gradually revealed as she begins to feel safe from pursuit—after sleeping rough, changing disguises, planting her phone and real ID elsewhere. She is was a class of British secret service that monitors their own spy network, digging out any agents who sell confidential intel for money, often to foreign powers. Heather, who's no spring chicken, mostly keeps herself in excellent, healthy shape thanks to her former army training.

But Heather found trouble of her own making. We don't know what it was or who is seriously hunting her, because the story shifts to her background influences where we decelerate into a slower lane—her father's secret service career, her army stint, the segue into intelligence work. Heather has only one great friend, Flavia; otherwise, work occupies her insular life. For a woman so adept at her job, over two decades she mismanaged her personal finances to the point of creating embarrassing debt—making her vulnerable in a sensitive job. Not difficult to predict a big Problem when she discovers a corrupt internal network, but she's oddly apathetic about it until we reach the present day, a contrast into full speed again. More than one source threatens to eliminate her. Much is left unsaid as she struggles with an action plan, not knowing herself where the ultimate power or checkmate lies.

The action of being on the run, is so well done in vivid locations, the danger so compelling—again, contrasting with Heather's usually quiet cerebral life. Is anything resolved? It's a wild ride seeking promises of safety until it all peters out in the end. With a murder charge waiting. Disappointing, questions unanswered. And author Doughty lost me with the name Ruth!

Background

▪ And so I suppose it was always in my blood, running I mean ‒ perhaps not running itself so much as the preparedness to run ‒ the capacity to go through each day always being ready. (20)

▪ All my life, men have underestimated me because I'm small. (39)

▪ "You're no fucking officer," I said, my voice hissing and low, "you're a disgrace to your uniform." (105)

▪ The thing you don't realise about small babies is how dense they are, how hot and heavy, like a tiny nuclear device ‒ so small, and yet they could explode the world. (126)

▪ Spying on spies is hard: they know how to cover their tracks. Once they get wind of the fact that they are being investigated, you've had it. (153)

▪ My mother was a good person and her love was a good love to have, an unobtrusive love. None of us had returned it well enough. (214)

Now

▪ I'm hurtling away from my life. I've done it. I'm gone. (25)

▪ I'm longing to speak to Carmella and find out what happened after I left the meeting, but it wouldn't be safe to call her even if I had a phone. (64)

▪ Then I do a practice run, timing myself on my watch. I can get up the stairs and out of the skylight in three seconds. (66)

▪ Everyone I care for is gone. I've had to run away from all the people I work with, everything I own, and no one in the world knows where I am. (85)

▪ "What are you doing in the boss's office?" she asked, crossing her arms and leaning against the door frame. (199)

▪ As long as I put enough distance between me and him, I will be able to hide. He'll never find me in this pitch-black night. (243)

▪ The fucker used me as bait ‒ but he reckoned without me going on the run. (300)

Novels No. 45 (LL363)

 

Dervla McTiernan. What Happened to Nina? USA: HarperCollins, 2023.

When we meet her, Nina Fraser seems like a refreshing twenty-year-old college student, passionate about the sport of climbing and her long-term boyfriend Simon Jordan. But Simon has undergone a slow change from caring lover to possessive abuser—a change she believes is temporary, that their mutual love will resolve it. Near the end of their climbing vacation together at Stowe, Nina approaches Simon to talk out the issue; that's when her presence vanishes from the story. Her hardworking parents Leanne and Andy report her missing; detective Matthew Wright takes the case with officer Sarah Jane Reid as assistant. Simon came home early from the vacation, saying Nina broke up with him and has a new guy. Days go by, no Nina.

Simon's parents Jamie and Rory are stereotypes—the entitled wealthy—furious that Simon, their only son, looks bad in the media for leaving Nina on her own. Rory hires a "reputation management" firm to disseminate disinformation, disparaging Nina's alleged behaviour to deflect from malicious talk of his son. The voracious internet takes over, bottom feeders eager to trash anyone and everyone involved. Consequences from the fallout are destroying anguished members of both families, including Nina's younger sister Grace. A search party is mounted for the extensive vacation property—it happens to be owned by the Jordans—but aside from an erratic sniffer dog, there's no trace of Nina. Or was the dog erratic? Very well-played by author McTiernan with spontaneous defensive and offensive moves by both sets of desperate parents—parental protection in the extreme.

Who will win this ungodly battle of character assassination? And what happened to Nina? Our dependency and thriving on internet devices is all too evident, especially when they support the worst in us. Top marks to McTiernan for superb irony regarding human folly.

Nina

▪ I told myself that Simon was just going through an insecure stage, that I knew the real him and that we'd get back there again if I could just make him understand how much I loved him. (3)

▪ It's the most sickening thing in the world, losing the support of your rope. (6)

The Frasers

▪ I was certain that I would find her, if I could just get to Stowe without any interruption. (56)

▪ We were smart, capable people, and it was too much to ask that we switch off our brains and put away our abilities and do nothing while our daughter was missing. (107)

▪ Our girls were our life, but the inn was our home. Our safe place. And these bastards, these sad, bored, basement-dwelling bastards with their pathetic conspiracy theories and their desperate need for attention, they were going to destroy it all. (203-4)

▪ "She's not here. She's not in school." He sounded panicked. Terrified. (204)

▪ "I'm begging you," Lee said. "Mother to mother. I know you understand that I ... that we can't survive unless we know what happened to Nina." (238)

The Jordans

▪ "She dumped me on Friday night. I asked her if she'd been seeing someone behind my back and she didn't deny it." (26)

▪ Breaking into our home was the behavior of a crazy woman. A normal person would have asked the police to check the house, if they were that worried. (96)

▪ "She pointed her finger straight at Simon at that press conference. We can't just stand back and let her do that." (102)

▪ "If the world decides that Simon did something to Nina, you and I will be picked apart. They always blame the parents." (102)

▪ I knew my son. I knew him. He was not a murderer. (127)

▪ "What matters is that we keep muddying the waters. People are going to be talking either way." (182-3)

▪ "With both girls running away, it does call into question what's happening in the home, doesn't it? Clearly something isn't right there." (220)

▪ "Jesus, Grace. You're acting crazy. Maybe it runs in the family." (234)

Peter May. A Winter Grave. UK: riverrun/Quercus, 2023.

Little did I realize this novel was set thirty years into the future, but hey, open mind, right? Lose the distaste for dystopian settings. DI Cameron Brodie is not your eager new detective nor your jaded Glasgow cynic, but he is worn out. His boss sends him into the Highlands (in a marvellous driver-less drone-copter) to investigate the perfectly preserved body of a man discovered frozen in a chunk of ice. Identified as Charles Younger, a journalist, he exhibits numerous bruises and a broken neck, consistent with a beating or a bad fall. The mountain rescue volunteers, many of whom work at the nearby nuclear facility, had a hell of a time freeing the body. No one seems to know what the man was doing in their area. Pathologist Dr Sita Roy is on the spot, collecting DNA evidence from his fingernails. Due to constant storms, the power is often out, stopping all communications.

A twist: The lone local policeman, Robbie Sinclair, is married to Brodie's daughter Addie—a daughter who angrily cut him out of her life ten years ago. Brodie knew of them in advance; burdened with a grim medical diagnosis, he wants time for her to hear her mother's true story. But someone is stalking them; Younger's body disappears only to be replaced by another. Avalanche slide, river immersion, transportation malfunction—Brodie is tested to the limits of his flagging strength. Climate change weather is a big factor in this story, and the author provides a graphic atmosphere. Besides the crime thrills, an amazing love story lurks AND a smashing climax! (not to mention my ancestral island has a role :)

After all: there's nothing here that isn't predictable thirty years from now—flooding in coastal cities, rampant urban rats and cockroaches, crumbling infrastructure, abandoned buildings, but nevertheless the inexorable progress of technology and AI. Certainly one of prolific Peter May's best novels.

Now

▪ "Well, it [GAN] stands for generative adversarial network, in which two neural networks use AI to out-predict one another." (13)

▪ "Bring the glasses into play, and they provide an augmented reality VR screen that allows you to receive video calls, surf the internet, or interpret the world around you. Facial recognition is instant. Everything functions on voice command." (24-5)

▪ "Ironic, isn't it?" he said. "A nuclear power plant at one end of the loch, and a hydroelectric power station at the other, and all we seem to get all winter these days is power cuts." (98)

▪ "You're a material witness. And like it or not, you're going to have to take your father up the mountain to show him where you found the body." (134)

▪ A vast slab of snow beneath his feet began to slide, and he instantly lost his balance, falling backwards as a sound like the roar of a jet engine filled his ears. (162)

▪ Addie had created a life for herself. A family. He had no right to come barging in to ruin yet more lives. (181)

▪ "He's just ... well, hopelessly addicted. He's put almost everything in hock to feed his habit. Online. Always online." (255)

▪ "His piece in the paper and on the internet, Mr. Brodie, was going to blow this government clean out of the water." (281)

Before

▪ Words hurled at him in a fury, barely heard in the moment, and now lost in time. But the shrill tone of anger and accusation still lived with him in every moment of every day. (111)

▪ "Oh, my God! He's back! Oh, my God, Cammie, you've got to go." She turned to face me with real fear in her eyes. (189)

▪ What was I going to do? Turn around and drive away? Accept that life with Mel as I'd known it was over? (229)

▪ "I can't even explain it ..." Her words came staccato through her sobs. "He ... he just has this hold on me." (232)

Novels No. 44 (LL362)

 

Caro Carver. Bad Tourists. USA: Avid Reader Press/Simon & Schuster, 2024.

Carver's opening scene is a scary nightmare—perfect teaser for a thriller. One wonders, is this the product of someone's imagination rather than real? Then: We meet Darcy, stay-at-home mom and mother of three boys, who scored big in a divorce settlement, so what does she do? Treats two friends to an expensive holiday in the Maldive Islands. For her, it's R & R after an arduous child custody fight, and yes, also to celebrate her parting from high-tech businessman Jacob. Friend Camilla is thrice-divorced, the lively owner of a fitness empire; Kate is an introvert, single, a ghostwriter for minor celebrities, working on her own novel. And we learn that the three women bonded due to their association with that introductory scene of multiple murder. None of them had realized that the anniversary of the terrible event is coming up during their holiday week. They've all had therapy to process the trauma, to deal with loss.

Sapphire is an over-the-top posh resort on a small island—all the pampering they can imagine. In a heart-to-heart, the three friends agree with Camilla's insistence that they request re-opening the old murder case because of new evidence: Hugh Fraser, the killer who confessed and later died in prison, was not working alone, as the police concluded. Meanwhile, they befriend young Jade, honeymooning with Rob, but their experienced eyes see that he abuses her. Antoni is a Spanish guest, treating his nephew Salvador to a vacation as an eighteenth birthday gift. Undercurrents are spiralling to the surface: Rob insists he's met Darcy somewhere before, making her uncomfortable; Kate has a panic attack on receiving roses on the anniversary, sender unknown; and who is Adrian Clifton that Jacob is hounding them about?

The three-way friendship for the most part is touching and bantering, yet someone is hiding information. Unseen threats surround them, accidents waiting to happen, degenerating into ugly free-for-all violence. The climactic revelation comes with disappointing—to me—exposition; it doesn't make up for a lack of credible profile building during the story.

Darcy

▪ Darcy had said it was a good idea, that being together in a gorgeous place on the anniversary of the event that tied the three of them together would be healing. (81)

▪ Darcy was like her father, an open book, naturally inclined to share, talk things through. Volatile, too, until she learned to control it. (85)

▪ Who would think that the wholesome mum with the sensible haircut and the wet wipes in her handbag would be a vessel of violence beneath all that chair-of-the-PTA charm? (118)

▪ Why the living fuck would Kate be phoning this number? (167)

▪ "I'd like to know which of you told Jacob about Adrian," Darcy says after a moment. (211)

Camilla

▪ "I teach Pilates, and I emailed a few days ago to offer a free Pilates class to the guests. Do you think you can follow up on that?" (26)

▪ She is seized by blind panic, trying to work out Jacob's meaning, his strategy. (95)

▪ "Darcy tells us you used to be a detective sergeant with the Metropolitan Police?" (141)

▪ "The fucking anniversary! And now you tell us that we're really here to confront someone who may have killed my twin brother!" (185)

▪ She turns her eyes to two men standing at the edge of the causeway. "But they found the body, and one of them said his throat was cut." (228)

Kate

▪ In the back of the ambulance, she shook in giant, uncontrollable spasms as she watched body bag after body bag being carried down the steps of the guesthouse. (8)

▪ Rob stands out, certainly, with his swagger, his tattoos, eyes like knives. (98)

▪ "I'm so angry. I don't have privacy. What if they're here, on the island?" (155)

▪ "The letters spell Briony Conley. My real name." (163)

▪ Whoever sent those roses must think they can destroy her wherever she goes. (173)

▪ The email from Jacob sticks in her mind, the words a software issue. (195)

B.A. Paris. The Guest. USA: St. Martin's Press, 2024.

Still grabbing for fill-ins, thanks to TPL waiting lists. Against my better judgment I picked this up; the last time I read B.A. Paris I was not impressed (The Breakdown, LL232). When Gabriel and Iris Pelley return home from a weekend trip, they don't expect to find a guest installed. It's Laure, wife of Gabe's best friend Pierre; she fled to them for refuge on learning that Pierre had fathered a child some years ago thanks to a one-night stand (during his marriage). He told her he never knew, until he chanced upon the woman and her little daughter on the street. The Pelleys are stunned; Pierre is not responding to phone calls. Laure is devastated, burrowing right into her friends' everyday lives, futilely questioning Pierre's betrayal, thinking the woman could be their friend Claire. Laure's lamentations, and her visit, go on. And on. Pierre does not show up to meet Laure at their Paris apartment after inviting her.

Gabriel is more than half-disbelieving about the affair and the child, yet Laure says Pierre managed a DNA confirmation. Gabriel recently witnessed the accidental death of a young cyclist he knew, who whispered some bitter dying words to him. Now on burn-out leave from work, Gabriel is haunted by the words he can't tell anyone, let alone the boy's mother Maggie. Pierre's situation only adds to his torment. After returning unhappily from the no-show in Paris, Laure uncharacteristically seeks comfort from Joseph the landscaper. New neighbours Hugh and his pregnant wife Esme provide some social relief for the Pelleys... until Laure disappears. That's the crux, and unwanted police attention is about to further upset an already strained marriage.

Oddly, most of the "action" takes place in hindsight which gets a bit tiresome. From the third person perspective, all these people are continually agonizing, heavy with guilt, over their own betes noires and losing meaningful relationships with others. The grand reveal itself is related from retrospect, pages and pages of dispassionate exposition. What I said the first time around (little action, little dialogue, overabundance of repetitive agonizing) pretty much sums it up.

Laure

▪ "Hurt. Confused. He said he never wanted children." (23)

▪ She looked at him, her eyes wide. "It is all right, isn't it, me staying here a bit longer?" (77)

▪ "Are you saying that nobody has seen her since she went for her run—what, about six hours ago?" (164)

Gabriel

▪ "Are you suggesting that Claire wanted a child, so Pierre gave her one?" (32)

▪ "If all goes well, she might decide not to come back at all," Gabriel had said, and they'd both crossed their fingers jokingly. (95)

▪ "What if it isn't true? What if there isn't a daughter, what if Laure made it up to cover something else?" (130)

Iris

▪ The conversation was always about Pierre, and she was tired of hearing about Pierre. (56)

▪ "Have you decided yet about Maggie?" A closed look came over his face. "You can't refuse to see her, Gabriel." (119)

▪ "Funnily enough, I asked Laure if she wanted you to go to Claire's, to see if Pierre was there. But she said it would only make things worse." (131)

▪ She couldn't stop crying, and she needed to, because her tears only added to Gabriel's distress. (190)

Novels No. 43 (LL361)

 

Liz Nugent. Strange Sally Diamond. Simon & Schuster, 2023.

Without a doubt, this is the most unique crime story you will read this year. Words seem scarcely adequate to describe it and its protagonist. Try awesome, heartstopping, extraordinary! We meet Sally when she's on the cusp of middle age, the day her beloved father died. For years, the widower Tom Diamond, a retired psychiatrist, and his adopted daughter have lived on an isolated property near the village of Carricksheedy. To say that Sally understands other people's words literally, depicts only a part of her complex personality. Tom had a habit of lightly saying, "When I die, just put me out with the trash." After ensuring that he is well and truly dead, Sally does exactly that, in a shocking way. Throughout the ensuing consequences—police, headlines, medical evaluations—Sally is sustained by family friend, Dr Angela Caffrey.

The facts of her background, before adoption at the age of five or six, all come out in the media again as they did at the time: her biological mother Denise Norton's kidnapping, forcible confinement, pregnancy, and ultimate rescue. Sally has no memory of that time; Dr Tom has mostly protected her from the discomfort of socializing. Tom deemed her "emotionally disconnected" yet she functions as an independent adult, albeit a brutally honest one with few filters. Sally has resilience. In the publicity aftermath, she acquires a helpful therapist, Tina, and slowly, makes a handful of friends. She meets with relatives of both her deceased mothers, Denise Norton and Jean Diamond.

Conor Geary, who committed the crime so long ago, disappeared without a trace; Sally thinks he is still alive and may come after her—who sent her old teddy bear to her in the mail? But this is also the story of Peter, another child kept isolated by the same twisted criminal, who was told and believes he has a rare disease. When tragedy enters Peter's life, he responds the only way he knows how; he had only one role model. The novel is simply an exceptional accomplishment in writing. Damage done by manipulation and perversion may be rehabilitated with humane treatment. Shocking or poignant, angry or funny—the characters are consistent and compulsive.

One can but admire with awe the author's considerable skills, her sensitivity. Sally is a very, very special person.

Sally

▪ "He just wrote to open it after he died. I didn't know I was supposed to open it the same day." (19)

▪ "It may be evidence," said Angela. "Do you have the wrapping paper it came in?" (62)

▪ I lashed out at Angela with my fists, punching her in the face, the stomach, her arms. (85)

▪ I understood what shame meant. It was one of the emotions I was in touch with. (88)

▪ "I have emotional development issues because of him. I can't call you Aunt Margaret, by the way. That feels wrong." (122)

▪ "My fear of sex and relationships. ... I've found Google helpful, Tina, and I know you won't approve, but I don't think I'm socially deficient. Emotionally, I'm a child." (147)

▪ "I'm forty-four and I don't know what I want to be when I grow up." That was my little joke, but neither of them laughed. (149)

▪ Stella thinks I should start dating. Like I said, she is funny. (124)

▪ "Look, you fucking weirdo, in the beginning I felt sorry for you, even after what you did to your poor father, because you were on your own, but now everyone feels sorry for you because of what happened when you were a kiddie." (131-2)

Peter

▪ "Oh my God, you're just like him. He'll turn you into a monster too if you don't escape." (104)

▪ "It's called necrotic hominoid contagion. If you touched another person, you would get sick and you could die, a painful death." (108)

▪ "Your stupid mother seems to have forgotten about you. They don't appear to know you exist, and by the time they do, we'll be on the other side of the world." (144)

▪ The biggest change was that I was no longer a secret. Dad was proud to introduce me to people we met. (154)

▪ Dad told our sob story about the poor dead mum and wife. This elicited sympathy and congratulations to my father for raising me alone. (154)

▪ I was desperate to socialize, but my inarticulation made it hard. (154)

▪ "Anyway, she sounds the same as my mother!" I said, delighted that we had this in common, mad and dangerous mothers. (167)

▪ "You wanted a friend. I got you one. Now, quit whining!" (193)

▪ "I can't believe a word you say, Dad." (204)

▪ I took the car that night and drove for hours, but where could I go, and who could I tell? (205)

Kjell Ola Dahl. Little Drummer. 2003. UK: Orenda Books, 2022.

An interesting find while my TPL waiting list languished. And a mouthful of names from this popular Nordic Noir writer: Gunnarstranda is the cop charged with wrapping up the case of Kristine Ramm who died with a syringe of heroin in her arm, his superiors believing it's a typical overdose (and a demeaning job for an overly smug policeman); his team includes Emil Yttergjerde, Lena Stigersand, and Frank Frølich. Gunnerstranda's unusual request for an autopsy, in such a case, reveals that someone else administered the drug. Nothing in the victim's history or friendships indicates that she was a drug user. The last contact she had before death was several unanswered phone calls to Stuart Takeyo—but Takeyo, a Black man from Kenya, vanished at about the same time.

It's evident to me that the interplay/interaction among the cops is an essential story ingredient, but the collegial familiarity is lost in translation. Apparently also, Gunnerstranda's, or Frølich's, mind makes quantum leaps from one fact or discovery to another without a key transition. It could be that I walked into a well-established series. While I appreciate the author's subtle style, I struggled to follow who did what in a sea of Norwegian place names. Plus, I was on mighty painkillers for a botched molar extraction that could have been rendering me particularly stupid. Therefore: speed reading began when Frølich, in the wake of an inquisitive and mysteriously well-informed journalist, Lise Fagernes, is sent to Africa after Takeo. Naturally, many factors are in play before a killer is nailed. High class yacht parties, corrupt policemen, African poverty, environmental projects—all encountered because someone is killing in order to conceal lucrative investor fraud.

A quicker head than mine will follow the intricacies of international aid and financing. A different change of pace—it grows on you.

Bits

▪ The satisfaction of paying a senior officer back for a deliberate slight and also precipitating a row between two people who occasionally riled him put him in such a good mood that he determined at once to do some field work and clarify the identity of the victim.(13)

▪ "Don't forget that Stuart, with his academic background and all the status he's acquired, would be a privileged person in his home country." (46)

▪ "My jaw dropped when I saw Stuart being rowed over and climbing on board a boat like that. It didn't ring true. (79)

▪ "You forced through the autopsy, now you're leaving me to finance an operation outside Norway?" (122)

▪ "Pederson himself has had no declared income since 1995, but lives in a villa in Snarøya, where he drives low-slung cars and eats high-class cuisine, to use their jargon." (126)

▪ "The only person who can be officially linked with Nor-Comp is Britt Lise Staw, the old lady with Alzheimer's in Stokke, and by definition she isn't responsible for her actions and so will never be charged with anything." (158)

▪ She shouted to her son again, than laid a slim hand on his thigh and whispered, "I'm gonna make you a very happy man." (160)

▪ The older boy seemed to know what he was thinking and said: "It's true. I know where he is." (168)

▪ Lise cleared her throat. She felt a touch of dizziness and was unable to think clearly. The dark corridor, the dreadful stench, the man's impenetrability. (173)

▪ "My job was to convince the police that you had nothing to do with the murder." (196)

▪ "Following clues after a murder is like gathering the fragments of a dream. It's all about finding pieces of some surrealistic act and trying to make them fit into a comprehensible picture." (201)

Novels No. 42 (LL360)

 

Kate Hilton & Elizabeth Renzetti. Bury the Lead. Toronto: House of Anansi, 2024.

Since the two authors were celebrated at a dinner and talk next door to me, I thought I'd give it a read. The plot centres around the summer destination town of Port Ellis and its lauded Playhouse Theatre. Narrator Cat Conway writes for the town's small newspaper, charged with interviewing celebrities who appear in the new season's productions. Well-known actor Eliot Fraser is chief among them, a rather obnoxious old lecher; co-star Jonah Tiller is a man with a grudge against Eliot. Prominent theatre board member Martha Mercer is Eliot's ex-wife; her son Alec is directing the play Inherit the Wind. When Eliot chokes and dies in public on opening night, it's international news, and the town is inundated with media. Cat and her Quill & Packet colleagues—publisher Dorothy, managing editor Amir, reporters Bruce and Kaydence—are galvanized.

Young Declan Chen-Martin, a native of Port Ellis, is the nervous understudy for Eliot's part. His mother Adeline owns a popular restaurant, Second Act, above which Cat rents an apartment. Cat's recent past includes an acrimonious divorce, but beyond that, she avoids talk of why she left her big city journalism career in disgrace. Old newspaper buddy Nick turns up, pushing a tempting offer to return to the big time. But she's feeling the challenge to beat him and everyone else in breaking this murder story—inviting surprisingly dangerous reactions. As Cat interviews and investigates, more people than she can count had secret reasons to kill Eliot; he had theatre history in Port Ellis so it's not just other actors whom he antagonized. Behind the scenes at the Playhouse and in the town has more drama than the plays.

The writing is effortlessly stylish, smoothly laced with humour throughout, even as it deals with topical issues. I could easily picture one of Ontario's real such towns. Gotta love the authors' consistently great metaphors (or are they analogies?). They fill the pages with relatable human beings and enough action to satisfy any mystery fan. Looks like a second Cat Conway novel is coming—they know their audience!

Fun samples

▪ His gaze fell to the bottom of his glass, as if he expected to find Jason Robards there. (13)

▪ I was being asked if I could handle a simple entertainment profile. It was like being asked if I could tie my own shoelaces. (25)

▪ Dorothy put down her glasses which had lenses so thick they looked like they'd been designed by NASA. (21)

▪ In the kitchen, I put a pot of coffee on and stretched once more, listening to my spine crack like ice along the lakeshore in March. (193-4)

Bits

▪ "All because I wouldn't sleep with a disgusting old man? I should sue him." (48)

▪ "Just for starters, Jonah and Eliot have been at each other's throats for weeks." (50)

▪ "Those old bastards thought they were entitled to everything. Eliot's ass was kissed more often than the pope's ring." (66)

▪ Men. They walked through the world as if it was designed for them, because it was. (75)

▪ That voice. It was the aural equivalent of seeing the cops in your rear-view mirror, flashing their lights. (81)

▪ "My businesses employ most of Port Ellis, one way or the other. You can mess with me if you want, young lady, but you'll only be hurting yourself." (101)

▪ Adeline's hand snaked out and took Declan's glass and, with one quick movement, reached over the bar and dumped it down the sink. (168)

▪ And then, in a flash, I remembered what had happened the last time a rage like this had consumed me: I'd erupted at a random stranger on the street, and then watched my career go up in flames. (198-9)

▪ "That was the last peaceful night I had before women started throwing dog shit at my house." (240)

▪ "Of course he was jealous. I was him, minus a few decades on the clock." (258)

Anders De La Motte. The Mountain King. Ebook download from TPL. 2022. Simon & Schuster, 2024.

I ask myself, why did I choose this novel? It's creepy: you can tell early on because the psycho (the "mountain king") is given voice in brief disturbing passages. Ditching the book was my first reflex, but the police protagonist, Leonore (Leo) Asker, was an intriguing reason to continue. The handling of a missing persons' case is taken away from her in revenge for an old humiliation she gave Jonas Hellman. His influence on her boss Rodic has him appointed as superior officer in charge of finding what happened to Smilla Holst, daughter of a wealthy local man. Smilla's boyfriend, Malik Mansur, who vanished with her, is being quietly sketched as the potential kidnapper. Asker is relegated temporarily to heading what we'd call cold case files, but that she calls Department of Orphaned Cases and Lost Souls. Her new underlings—Virgilsson (cryptic toad), Rosen (nervous rabbit), Zafer (mental techie), and Attila (scary hulk)—inspire no optimism in her whatsoever.

Meanwhile we know Smilla is alone, trapped in a mountain cave by the unknown creep. Urban exploration is a theme; old abandoned structures are a big attraction for its enthusiasts. Such as underground, sealed-off, former military sites. Much more than a kidnapping is going on here: Asker's new office companions have secret agendas; odd clues to missing people turn up in a gigantic model railroad; Mansur is found dead in his car; Asker's childhood friend Martin could be her best resource for locating the killer. She knows Hellman has been way off base in his investigation, but her partially pieced-together theory—and her involvement at all—is rejected by Rodic.

Throw together Leo's peculiar father Per, police misogyny, a tender friendship, control freaks, an extended Swedish hillbilly family, and a charged atmosphere in every corner: the creepiness does not dominate. Nordic Noir with a muy sympatico champion. Apparently The Mountain King is the first of three, so far, in a series starring Leo Asker. I hope the translator is working night and day!

Bits

▪ Jonas Hellman is going to come for her; she doesn't doubt that for one second. (44)

▪ "Isn't it a little early to lock in on such a blinkered hypothesis as Mansur kidnapping his own girlfriend?" (57)

▪ The only sound she hears is the clunk of her career hitting rock bottom. (88)

▪ The figures are an almost exact copy of Smilla Holst's last Instagram post. (123)

▪ Observing them as they slept peacefully in their beds, wholly unaware of his presence. His power over them. (166)

▪ "... Per honed her till she was sharp as a razor. Taught her shooting, close combat, driving, you name it." (204)

▪ He owns us, Julia had whispered. (237)

▪ Did Hellman know Eskil and his two henchmen were planning to attack her? (375)

▪ She wishes she could be there to see it happen. To watch on as his investigation implodes. (376)

▪ The control centre is feeding them the coordinates of the GPS in Asker's police radio. It gives her location accurate to a matter of feet. (436)