Novels No. 67

Fiona Barton. Local Gone Missing. USA: Penguin, 2022.

DI Elise King is on leave, recovering from cancer surgery in her new home in coastal town Ebbing. She's becoming accustomed to the locals who resent the weekenders with their holiday homes, although their business spending is welcome. Elise's cleaner, Dee, is a local who avoids gossip, unlike the majority including her neighbour Ronnie who's always on hand to help out. When two teenagers overdose at the town's music festival sponsored by Pete Diamond—an event protested by the locals—it's Elise who finds them, and quickly discovers her friend DS Caro Brennan is on the job. Finding the drug dealer is Caro's mission, but the disappearance of affable, man-about-town Charlie Perry becomes a project for Elise; Ronnie enthusiastically rides shotgun for her. Charlie, saddled with mouthy, vitriolic wife Pauline, has been privately agonizing over the amount of his debts and how to pay for his disabled daughter's care.

Besides following Elise's path, we hear from Dee—worried that husband Liam is secretly up to no good with pub owner Dave and/or possibly using drugs again. On top of that, she's hiding a concern about her recently deceased brother and his criminal associates. Everyone in town gets even more tense when Charlie's body is found; he was not the only local person experiencing serious financial trouble. Elise is pronounced fit to work again, to officially head the murder investigation. She has her hands full with uncovering Charlie's strange connections, and why he was so broke.

Good characters here; dizzying twists employed. Motivations for nefarious activities are not necessarily what they seem and keep you guessing. Detective Elise King appears in Barton's next book, Talking to Strangers, so that should be a treat.

Bits

▪ "Bottom line, Charlie, is that we can't afford any more. Surely there's a council place she could go to?" (27)

▪ Charlie's face looked ghoulish and distorted in the green spotlights raking the crowd, his eyes bulging and his mouth wide open. (40)

▪ They were very different animals: Caro was brilliant at thinking on her feet but incapable of being anywhere on time, while Elise was borderline OCD. (43)

▪ "I don't believe he would abandon his daughter without a word." (103)

▪ I should ring Liam and warn him but I don't want to talk to him. The look on his face when he heard the radio this morning. (156)

▪ "He's as guilty as sin but we'll have to start again to build a case." (169)

▪ "It was only supposed to be a one-off. A pity shag. But she wouldn't let it go." (219)

▪ "And there were some very valuable antiques and jewelry[sic] missing but we found only Mr. Williams's computer in Bennett's squat." (275)

Amy Gentry. Last Woman Standing. USA: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2019.

It's not in your usual mystery novel that a stand-up comedian plays the protagonist. But fate often seems to push Dana Diaz into involuntary commitments. She's in Austin to prepare for a contest that attracts comedy acts from across the country. Not a terribly social person, she finds herself enjoying the company of a stranger, Amanda, who had applauded her turn at the mic. Common ground in the new friendship is that both had been deeply humiliated and hurt by controlling men. Amanda, a software/cyber techie, doesn't spare her fury over her (now ex-) boss Doug who had royally screwed her out of her job. Dana is slower to confess her inadvertent sexual incident with Aaron Neely who happens to be one of the contest judges and influential in the industry. Soon after, Neely mysteriously leaves both town and contest, to Dana's great relief and Amanda's triumphant glee ... oh yes, a little blackmail works. And Amanda has a plan for Dana to return the favour: Round One. Reluctantly Dana obliges, and in doing so, discovers Betty—a disturbing new self to enhance her stage performances.

Success urges them on and Amanda wants Round Two of their grievance pact. Down go two more "guys like that": misogynistic men. Dana's favour for Amanda goes awry, Dana recognizing ruefully that vengeance accelerates her own taste for violence. Then Dana places second in the comedy contest finals, getting serious sponsor attention; she's off to LA for big-time opportunities and reconnecting with her old writing partner Jason. She ignores Amanda's demands for Round Three, unaware of the bizarre consequences approaching. Soon the pressure is on Dana to sort out the truth from lies while trying to protect herself and Jason from being stalked. The tables are turned deftly, more than once.

Oh-so-clever author, Ms Gentry. Only a master craftswoman could create such credible but damaged personalities, maintaining an elevated suspense level. But I must say, it all sort of makes you want to go to Austin—sounded like a fun town at that time with the competing comedians.

Dana

▪ It seemed possible at that moment that she might become, if not a fan, something I needed even more: a friend. (15)

▪ What he'd liked was humiliating me in the back of his SUV, showing me how small and insignificant and utterly disposable I was to a man like him and, by extension, to the industry whose highest ranks he represented. (32)

▪ Betty stood up again and swung the statue into his ribs and watched him crumple to the floor. (116)

▪ "She knows I'm here, and she knows I'm with you. She's been sending me creepy messages." (189)

▪ She didn't want me just to hurt Jason; she wanted me to kill him. (236)

▪ An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. A death for a death. She was homicidal. (236)

Amanda

▪ "Once we moved in together, he started hiding my phone to keep me from going to auditions. Spying on me. Threatening me." (10)

▪ "Neely doesn't know who we are, but we have this video. We know everything about him, and we can get to him any time." (56)

▪ "I've got skills, remember?" she said, wiggling her fingers like a magician. "Just leave it to me." (38)

▪ "I got your back," she prompted. "Now you get mine." (57)

▪ "He's too savvy to open a link, but if you can upload this to his computer, we can do some serious damage." (98)

▪ "But you can't run away from this forever. You have one more name, Dana. And so do I." (124-5)

Novels No. 66

 

Shari Lapena. What Have You Done? Canada: Doubleday Canada, 2024.

It's a bit of a relief to turn to more or less standard suspense drama. The murder of a high school's most popular girl affects her numerous friends and their families in a small town. Diana Brewer was not only pretty, she was notable in academics as well as sports, and always had a kind word for everyone. Naturally, people wonder with a shiver of fear if a local person could have done such a ghastly thing, dumping her strangled, nude body in farmer Roy Ressler's field. Boyfriend Cameron Farrell is devastated, so are her friends Riley and Evan. Cameron last saw Diana when he dropped her at home the night before. All the parents and teacher Paula Acosta, school principal Kelly, track & field coach Brad Turner, Aaron Bolduc, boss at her part-time job, are reeling. But someone is lying and someone is holding back information during police questioning.

Detectives Stone and Godfrey are a low-key presence while this passel of people agonizes, some wondering whether to correct little lies they've told. Story narrative and POV move between adults and teenagers, with parents wanting to protect their children above all. As the last person to see Diana, Cameron is detained, caught in a lie about his timing that night. Yet why had Diana privately complained to Kelly about Turner's inappropriate behaviour—Brad, who is engaged to marry Ellen Ressler soon. Then there's that creepy man who was harassing Diana at work. Two excellent candidates for being the killer. But let's face it, the main characters examine their worries to the point of excess. Not to mention Diana's ghost that pops in and out without much substance.

Lapena is usually reliable for a tale with a twist but the repetitive mental agonizing almost smothers any suspense. You have to appreciate teenagers, even though these ones are often painted more like small children than thriving juveniles. No thrills here; I'd call it a mild mystery.

Bits

▪ How will she deal with this pain? She can't let Diana go. She will never be ready to let Diana go. (36)

▪ Someone must have driven up this isolated road and carried the girl into his field and left her there for the birds. (40)

▪ Privately, I think Cameron was getting too possessive, and it was starting to bother Diana. (42)

▪ It disturbs me, what Riley's thinking. It's obviously disturbing her too. (51)

▪ As she calms, Brenda knows that her life is over now too. Because there's nothing left for her. How will she go on? (67)

▪ All his attempts to brush off her questions on the phone seem only to have made her more certain that something's not right. (155)

▪ She can't just accept this disturbing information and have everything go back to normal. (170)

▪ I should have told Riley. Or my mother. I should have told them everything. (242)

▪ "What about the other girl?" she asks. "What's she going to say?" (255)

David Rotenberg. The Hua Shan Hospital Murders. Toronto: McArthur & Company, 2003.

Where did this come from? You guessed it: the random choice pile from in-house library. I gave up on a New Zealand novel thick with unfamiliar indigenous references and incomprehensible idiomatic dialogue that drove a depressing atmosphere throughout a dark story. Not at all sure that this one has less culture shock, being in the middle of a series about Inspector Zhong Fong, head of Shanghai's Special Investigations. His previous adventures are alluded to, suffice to say he's returned from forced exile "west of the Wall" with a new wife, Lily, who happens to work in his department as a crackerjack forensic scientist. A very old (and murdered) skeleton, found on a construction site, gets their attention because it's Caucasian and crimes against foreigners are Fong's precise mandate.

More immediately concerning is some anti-abortionist activity, possibly fueled by extreme religious beliefs. A secret agent known to some as Angel Michael bombs a surgical room in a city hospital's abortion clinic. Abortion clinics are everywhere, state-sanctioned because of the government's one-child policy. The bombing reveals a metal box holding a human fetus, inscribed with "This blasphemy must stop." Fong's assistant Captain Chen and his "fireman" Wu Fan-zi are kept busy hunting for the perpetrator, fearing more clinics will be targeted after a second such box appears at Hua Shan Hospital. Arson specialist from Hong Kong, Joan Shui, is called in. Politics of the day—complicated and sometimes opaque to us westerners—affect Fong's investigative decisions. The man's intellectual depths include an appreciation of Shakespeare!

The novel not only presents a compelling crime story, it's an eye-opener to a certain period of China's history. Quite an achievement, and my admiration increased with each development, wavering only slightly over the madman's religious excess. Illegal traffic in antiquities, Robert's mysterious mission, Shanghai's wartime Jewish ghetto, a sinister cohort in the USA, Chinese humour, and the qualities of phosphorus—Rotenberg covers an amazing span. Given the publication date, it's oddly satisfying how many themes resonate with today's political reality.

Bits

▪ Robert let out a warm breath that misted the window. With his baby finger he printed the words: Silas Darfun rots in hell. (11)

▪ Lily gave them a 10-percent deposit and her very best I'm-a-cop-so-don't-fuck-with-me look. (41)

▪ "What's the difference," the man said. "They're all dead. Grisly business they were involved in, anyway. Butchers butchered." (45)

▪ Fong had no sympathy for those who rode the wave of politics when they were tossed broken and bleeding on the rocks. (51)

▪ The second blast dwarfed the first. It ripped through the entire fourth floor of the People's Fourteenth Hospital. (113)

▪ "Never been on fire before Wu Fan-zi?" she said with a quiver of hysteria on the fringes of her voice. (117)

▪ "Now just settle down and let's hear what the little Commie bastard has to say for himself." (131)

▪ The light had created the world but the darkness had come and encased the light. The soul was light encased by the body. (161)

▪ He knew it was risky to raise that kind of money quickly. It could attract attention. But he had no other choice. (167)

Flavour

▪ "He's the bishop of Shanghai," said the cop as naturally as if he were saying that there is seldom very much chicken in an order of General Tzo's chicken. (47)

▪ Then the man spat out, "That's like a merchant hanging a sheep's head to sell dog meat." (48)

▪ Despite the People's Republic of China's takeover of Hong Kong, most of the officers around the table had been raised on a steady diet of hatred for the old English Protectorate. (57)

▪ "What do peasants look like – mud that got up and walked." (89)

▪ It was pretty much inconceivable to most Chinese actors that there is a way of acting without a cigarette. (103)

▪ But they never really trusted Shanghai up there in Beijing so men like the one standing in Fong's doorway were put in positions of power just to be sure those uppity Shanghanese never forgot who really runs the Middle Kingdom. (171-2)

▪ This was a Chinese cop. Just one step up from a thug or one down from a party man. (174)

▪ "China is the ocean that salts all rivers," Fong quoted quietly. (182)

Novels No. 65

~ TPL came through. But what kind of choices had I made?! ~ 

Paula Hawkins. The Blue Hour. Canada: Doubleday, 2024.

The late, great artist Vanessa Chapman occupies the thoughts of two devoted admirers. James Becker – who never knew her – is the Director of the Fairburn Foundation's art collection, inheritor of Vanessa's artistic output. Grace Haswell was Chapman's trusted companion and executor. Becker's boss, Sebastian Lennox, whose father Douglas created the foundation, claims Grace did not deliver all the art works that the foundation is entitled to, as per Chapman's will. Becker's in the uncomfortable position of negotiating with Grace, after Sebastian made legal threats. A human bone is detected in one of the sculptures, speeding up the story pace, one would think, but the focus is all on the past. Her personal writings reflect pieces of Vanessa's life—her former affair with then-gallery owner Douglas Lennox; her philandering husband Julian whom she can't resist, who went missing after one of their heated arguments.

Grace and Becker strike a common bond, so Grace doles out notes and diary entries to him. BUT where is this going? There is no compelling activity. Nothing happens except in the past. And most of it hinged on Vanessa's unpredictable temperament, her musings on freedom and abstract concepts while she inflicted emotional damage on those who loved her. Her creative feelings had an ebb and flow something like the tidal access to her island home. Becker has other worries too. His travels to manage this complicated business mean that his pregnant wife Helena—who had at one time agreed to marry Sebastian—is often alone at Fairburn. With Sebastian hovering. Not to mention Seb's mother, the bitter Lady Emmeline, widow of Douglas.

There are old dead bodies, and a killer to be reckoned with. Lack of tension in the present bores me—call me shallow. I had trouble relating to the central figures of Vanessa and Grace, too much self-agonizing, awkward chronology. I couldn't work up enthusiasm for an unstable artiste and the author's constant obfuscation of clues to a past crisis. On the other hand (!), art lovers may find the book fascinating.

Word: haptic(s) = relates to sense of touch; tactile; a touch or vibration often employed by technology comms

Vanessa

▪ Sometimes his cruelty takes my breath away—as though his infidelity is not enough, he helps himself to my pictures, too, and the money I have worked for. (53)

▪ I have to be single-minded, I have to put work at the heart of my life. And I have to leave because, if I don't, I think I might kill him. Or he me. (53)

▪ You know things you shouldn't, and I'm not sure how to be around you again. I hope you understand what I mean. (117)

▪ "Tell them what, Grace? That he destroyed all my work? What if something's happened to him?" (168)

▪ Grace is ever-present. She is careful, solicitous. I cannot breathe when she is in the room. Her attention is smothering, she cannot know how I suffer. (202)

Bits

▪ "You don't think the press might be interested in the fact that a human bone has been found to form part of a sculpture made by the late, great, reclusive, enigmatic Vanessa Chapman?" (14)

▪ "What's fascinating for me," he says, "is the progression of her style, the development of it, both in terms of individual pieces and her whole body of work, so I imagine that almost all of those sketches will have value, provided I can get a sense of their order." (66)

▪ Through deft application of paint and sparing use of color, treading that fine line she walked between abstraction and representation, Vanessa has articulated her terror in a painting so vivid you can almost smell the fear. (125)

▪ Now he knows this: Vanessa painted what she loved, she painted her freedom, she painted the sea. She painted what she feared. (125)

▪ "So ... what are we saying? We're suggesting she's hidden the paintings somewhere?" (128)

▪ What she and Vanessa had was not romantic, but it was not subordinate either. Just a friend, that's what people say. Oh, she's just a friend. As though a friend were something commonplace, as though a friend couldn't mean the world. (142)

▪ Grace remembers the days and weeks and months after Julian went missing, how difficult Vanessa became: irrational, secretive, strange. Silent. (225)

Catherine Steadman. Look in the Mirror. NYC: Ballantine Books, 2024.

Nina Hepworth mourns the death of her father whom she adored beyond any other relationships. At the age of thirty-four, she has inherited a comfortable nest egg, and—from the man she thought she knew inside out—the surprise of her life: a gated hillside property in the British Virgin Islands. When she goes to see it, she's speechless. Why did her father never speak of this to her? When did he ever have time to supervise the construction of this amazing, high-tech home, so unlike the dad she knew? Or the clearly exorbitant cost! Is it possible he had a whole secret life he kept from her? James Booth of a local law firm made all arrangements, paid for in advance with instructions. Since Nina and dad loved word puzzles and mental games, often testing each other, she suspects that this house is the biggest test of all, probably an elaborate game set up just for her.

Maria is a short-term, contract nanny for high-end socialites; she's saving to finish her medical studies. In an island mansion, she awaits the delayed arrival of the client and children, enjoying the plentiful amenities. She's warned she must not try to enter a locked basement room—until a power blackout forces her to call electrician Joon-Gi. At the same time, Nina discovers a locked room in her basement. Furthermore, by consulting Loman contractors who excavated a cliff for the house, Nina learns of a series of underground rooms below. The two women, separately, become terrified prisoners of auto-locking doors and an involuntary course of deadly challenges. Isolated with no communications, they are tracked everywhere by interior cameras. With no known reason or purpose behind the diabolical scheme, each woman fights back as best she can. Only Joe Loman and Joon-Gi, respectively, are attracted enough, or concerned enough, to try to contact them.

Truly scary indeed, and this barely touches on the entire plight. Some suspension of disbelief is required . . . until the author blew everything up for me, exposing the convoluted manipulation behind the enterprise. This greatly promising thriller turned into an eye-rolling trip into the light fantastic. Compelling questions that come to a reader's mind about credibility or sequence or possibility and alternate reality receive only more baffling input. I finished the book, sadly disappointed.

Nina

▪ "You're telling me this house is called Anderssen's Opening?" (40)

▪ "Ah, excellent choice," he mutters then raises his voice in a declamatory fashion to say, "Bathsheba, play 'Always Look on the Bright Side of Life.'" (52)

▪ "So this house, my dead father's house, has a locked room that doesn't appear on any architectural plans of the building and no one has been able to access it since his death." (62)

▪ Did my father do something to that man? Did I somehow do something without realizing? (126)

▪ She hasn't been poisoned; the water is going to kill her in a very different way. (173)

▪ After a moment of silence Bathsheba's voice fills the pitch blackness surrounding her. "Sensory deprivation initiated. Three hours and fifty-nine minutes remaining." (194)

▪ And yet, in spite of everything, she still believes those reasons will unveil themselves before too long and she will suddenly make sense of it all, either by the nature of what she finds down here or with the arrival of help. (203)

Maria

▪ The only person Maria had met was the woman with the chignon. And why wasn't she allowed to go in that room downstairs? (28)

▪ ... it's incredibly strange. For the property to go from high security to no security in just four days is notable. (118-9)

▪ He sprints to it. A power substation. A small gray bunker. This is what he suspected; this is what his mind has circled around in the dead of night these last few days. (123)

▪ She tumbles him down, under her, releasing her hold on the stick and double-fisting hunks of sand directly into the man's eyes and rubbing down hard—blinding him. (165)

▪ She wondered back there, between bouts of terror, back under the house, if it was just a kind of gladiatorial game for someone's sadistic amusement or if it had some larger significance? (183-4)

▪ A string of messages on the dead man's phone led her right back to the woman with the too-tight chignon. (187)

Novels No. 64

 

Liz Moore. The God of the Woods. USA: Riverhead Books/Penguin Random House, 2024.

Summer camp! Words to thrill urban pre-teens. Or not all of them – in this big, long book. Back in 1975, at elite Camp Emerson situated on the large, heavily forested Van Laar Preserve, twelve-year-old Tracy is not quite comfortable until she becomes good friends with Barbara—daughter of Peter and Alice Van Laar whose summer mansion sits nearby. Barbara was "acting out" at home, such that her alcoholic mother can't handle her, plus a father seldom at home; it was unusual for the upper class property owner to request their child join the campers, but camp director, T.J. Hewitt, felt obliged to accept her. Tracy knows that Barbara sneaks out of their cabin every night to meet a boy. One night she doesn't return, thus raising the hue and cry for search parties. Camp counselor Louise, who often meets her own boyfriend John Paul after hours, feels guilty that she had left her trainee Annabel in charge—she learns the girl also had abandoned her overnight post. Tracy thinks she knows where Barbara might have gone and sets off alone to find her. Big mistake: now two lost girls.

Segue to the wealthy Van Laar family, much of it in 1961. Their eight-year-old son "Bear" (Peter Van Laar IV) went missing in the Preserve. On the family's staff then, T.J. Hewitt's father Vic, and gardener Carl, are as stunned as the parents. Everyone loved the boy. And a serial killer—Jacob Sluiter, locally called Slitter—has frequented the area. The boy was never found. Story structure here is tricky, intending to keep us nervy, hopping between two cases happening a decade apart. That includes context of all the supporting characters, some of whom have their own collateral mysteries—Alice's sister, Vic's brother, John Paul's sister, and Van Laar cronies make it even more compelling. Newby State Police detective Luptack proves herself in handling Barbara's case, despite Capt. LaRochelle's deference to the Van Laars.

Authors who love to twine assorted tangents of time into their mysteries need to make the transitions very clear. Moore moves between no less than six time periods, so keep a sharp eye! Layer upon layer of guile and manipulation filters through two-three generations, fascinating as each is revealed. Above all, woodsmanship has a dominant role. Yet the denouement left me ambivalent. With a lot going on among so many people, I pull random quotes rather than attempt to characterize various individuals.

Bits

▪ "Don't say missing," says Louise. "Say she's not in her bunk." (7)

▪ "Panic," said T.J. But no one raised a hand. She explained. It came from the Greek god Pan: the god of the woods. He liked to trick people, to confuse and disorient them until they lost their bearings, and their minds. (40)

▪ For four generations in a row, there had been only one boy. Only one Peter Van Laar. Sometimes Alice had the feeling that her prompt production of a boy—and such a fine one, at that—was the only thing she had ever done that pleased her husband. (91-2)

▪ "The thing is, Alice," he said, "you're boring at parties. A drink or two will help you be more fun." (93)

▪ He had told nobody, yet, what Bear had said about his grandfather. The way Bear's posture had changed upon hearing his name called in that stern voice. (126)

▪ "Maximum sentence for possession of a controlled substance is five years," he says, chewing. (250)

▪ "But what I'll never forgive them for is not clearing my father's name. After he died, they just let it be—presumed that he was the one who killed Bear." (289)

▪ But the quickest way to make an attractive man ugly was to give him too much to drink. (253)

▪ Behind her she hears Sluiter's voice, his tone unreadable, hovering between mocking and earnest. (395)

Karin Fossum. I Can See in the Dark. 2011. UK: Vintage Books/Random House, 2014.

Why am I reading this? Because it was on my random pile (yes, a random pile now) and at 250 pages, it would not take long to finish, should TPL come through with the real waiting list. And Fossum is known as "Norwegian queen of crime." So. We enter the mind of Riktor, a nurse in a small palliative care establishment. Basically, he's a loner. Beautiful Anna is the second nurse and Dr. Fischer manages the place. Since all the patients are dying, most of them unable to speak, Riktor habitually torments them with pinching and scratching. Not only that, he secretly disposes of the medications that Fischer prescribed for them.

Oh, ugh. Am I committed to this? Should I abandon it? Will there be some kind of transformation or redemption? Apply speed reading. The man is self-aware, perfectly at ease with his perversions, then enjoys down time in a pretty park, observing the regulars. But his dark side prevails—Sociopath? Psychopath? In a nutshell, he ends up charged with a crime he did not commit and is imprisoned. At times Fossum twists the perspective into sympathy for Riktor's work in the prison kitchen, and his tender feelings for Margareth the cook. Brilliant as the author may be, the theme requires overlooking the sick actions and analyzing the man's mind. Sorry, not sorry—not recommended whatsoever.

A few bits

▪ I was a nobody. I was totally insignificant, nothing to look at, nothing to the world at large, eminently forgettable, and this knowledge was insufferable. (68)

▪ "People die in our care the whole time, they drop like flies. They're all on the verge of death, don't you realise that?" (127)

▪ Totally and utterly alone. Deserted and misunderstood, my rights trampled on. Subject of a terrible mistake. Victim of a dreadful plot. Exhausted and in despair. (138)

▪ Margareth. Dear Margareth. (190)

▪ "I rarely find myself speechless," the judge announced. "But I am now." (201)

▪ I was exhausted when the interview was over, but I gave him what he wanted, and I scored the maximum possible, feeling a kind of strange contentment as I did so, because now I belonged somewhere, among the disturbed, and my condition had a name. (210)

Novels No. 63

 

Jason Rekulak. The Last One at the Wedding. USA: Flatiron Books, 2024.

Two TPL 'holds' in a row! ☺

Frank Szatowski was estranged from his daughter for three years until she calls to invite him to her wedding. It's an emotional wallop for the veteran UPS delivery man, but a good one; he's so grateful they can put past differences behind them. Frank is further stunned when Maggie introduces her fiancé Aidan as the son of Errol Gardner, uber-wealthy founder of Capaciti where Maggie—now called Margaret—is employed. Capaciti produces a "miracle" battery for many uses, just one of Errol's many technology innovations. Frank feels no warmth from Aidan. A copy of a photograph is sent to Frank anonymously – why? – showing Aidan with a young woman called Dawn Taggart. And so Maggie explains that Dawn disappeared some months ago and Aidan is being wrongfully blamed in local gossip. Even though she, Maggie, is his alibi for being two hundred miles away when it happened.

Nevertheless, Frank sets off happily for the celebratory long weekend in New Hampshire, bringing his sister Tammy and youngster Abigail, a foster child Tammy cares for. The Gardner family compound in the mountains is a magnificent resort camp with every conceivable luxury; it's also a fortress with numerous security features—such as a compulsory fifty-six page NDA (non-disclosure agreement)! With Maggie totally focused on wedding plans and Aidan still being distant, Frank gets no quality daughter time. Errol is friendlier but his high-society wife Catherine is a recluse, suffering debilitating migraines. Not exactly feeling welcome amid the horde of arriving guests, Frank follows his sense that something is wholly out of kilter here. A dead body found in the lake is not Dawn.

Amid this swarm of the rich and famous, straight-speaking Frank wants to protect Maggie from the sinister elements hidden among them; he ignores warnings about the dangerous hole he's digging. Love the character development here, and the unexpected tender touches. A new-to-me author and one to watch!

Bits

▪ "I have to pay for something. Traditionally, the father of the bride pays for everything." (38)

▪ Errol was smart, funny, plainspoken, and unfailingly generous. (40)

▪ "You're letting your daughter marry Aidan Gardner? Are you out of your fucking mind?" (75)

▪ And I didn't know why I felt so irritable. Maybe it was my lack of sleep. Or maybe I just knew from the get-go that something about the camp was wrong. (97)

▪ "It's three hundred square feet, Aidan. I wouldn't keep a dog in that space. What were you doing all weekend?" (124)

▪ "Convince her to call off the wedding before any more people get hurt. Because something awful is happening here. You can feel it, right?" (144)

▪ "It's totally safe. Commercial-grade psilocybin and ketamine. They make it in labs, like vitamins." (148)

▪ "But I think anyone who invented a Miracle Battery could probably forge a time stamp, don't you?" (192)

▪ "Oh, Frank! You missed the point of the whole story! Or maybe I told it wrong? Did I leave out the part about Margaret?" (219)

Simon Mason. A Killing in November. UK: riverrun/Quercus, 2022.

Newly arrived to Oxford police, DI Ryan Wilkins is the most unorthodox detective yet: no filter on his thoughts, expressed in rudimentary street language. During anti-police protests that keep Superintendent Waddington occupied, Ryan is sent to investigate a murder in the lodgings of Sir James, Provost of Barnabas Hall. Surprise: Ryan is partnered with unrelated DI Raymond Wilkins. Educated, elegant Ray is disgusted by the trashy, ragamuffin-looking Ryan. In establishing a timeline for the murder evening they encounter various college members or visitors—Leonard, the lodge porter; Ameena and Ashley in Barnabas kitchen service; Jason Birch, college handyman; American visiting scholar Kent Dodge; Prof. Goodman, the faculty Arabist; Claire, college bursar; and the bodyguard of Sheik al-Medina, the Provost's dinner guest. The Sheik had been treated with utmost deference as a potential college donor, but his nervous focus was only on their minimal security measures.

No one seems to know who the strangled dead woman is. Ryan's compulsive mouth gets him in trouble with everyone from Ray and Waddington to the witnesses; he suspects the unlikeable Provost is hiding secrets. Somehow the two detectives, frustrated with and dissing each other, manage to perform some teamwork, each new clue leading to a dead end, some of them dangerous. Ryan has moments of zoned-out insights that help make the connections they need. Not to mention that he has an adorable toddler son who captivates everyone, unlike himself. Protocol-bound Ray loses some stiffness keeping pace with Ryan's antics—the humour comes largely from their relationship, but it helps to be able to decipher Brit colloquialisms as well as Oxford college-speak.

Ryan's behaviour is so unprofessional at times, at least one character wonders aloud whether he's on the spectrum; certainly he suffered an abusive childhood. He's bound for misconduct hearings despite solving the complex case. But the duo's opinions are changing about each other. It's the first of a fascinating new series, so sign me up for more.

Bits

▪ In Syria, she had been a law graduate; here, she was a kitchen porter, someone who could be given any menial task, to clean the ovens or take out the rubbish. (5)

▪ "File says he has, quote, 'problems with privileged elites', unquote. Must be good, though," she added. "Came top of his year in the fast track." (43)

▪ He had always noticed things. They stuck to his eyes. Sometimes, things he didn't want to see. (46)

▪ "We don't tell the Provost of one of the colleges to calm the fuck down. Do you understand me?" (65)

▪ Ryan said, "But the way he was speaking to me like I was trash, calling me lowlife and stuff, and all the time he's been forcing his junior staff to do stuff for him in his study." (164)

▪ He was twice as wide and a foot and a half taller than Ryan, and Ryan marched all the way up to him, and, pivoting suddenly from the hip like a circus gymnast, flung his right leg into the air and kicked him in the side of the head. (186)

▪ "Don't tell me what to do," Ray called back. "And, by the way, next time I give you my blazer, don't just drop it on the ground. It's a Tommy Hilfiger!" (187)

▪ He breathed deeply, thinking of her body dumped on the carpet, left like rubbish to be cleared up in the morning. He couldn't look her in her angry dead face till he got who'd done it. (213)

▪ Ryan put his foot down. "There's a gap in her file. Those ten months in the UK, for a start." (310)

Novels No. 62

Ruth Ware. Zero Days. Canada: Simon & Schuster, 2023.

One way to earn a living is to access highly protected corporate security systems or buildings; "penetration testers" are hired to prove any weakness in such well-guarded areas. Jacintha ("Jack") Cross and Gabe Medway are a husband-and-wife team who do exactly that. Until Gabe is murdered one night, after remotely guiding Jack through a smooth break-and-enter into an important building. Gabe was the electronic/cyber specialist operating from home; Jack is the physical boots on the ground; they communicate with sophisticated devices. Although Jack did indeed penetrate the building's systems, she's caught returning to her car—to spend hours at a police station explaining herself and her job. Eventually reaching home, she's in shock when she finds Gabe with his throat slashed, still at his computer.

Detectives Malik and Miles are in charge of the case, interrogating a dazed and disbelieving Jack. They don't understand the depth of her grief that delayed her reporting it. When called for a second interview, her sister Helena, a journalist, advises her to lawyer up. But Jack doesn't. And to her horror, the police are considering her the prime suspect. She flees, expecting to be on the run for days, assisted quickly by Helena and Gabe's best friend Cole—and trying to think: who could have killed Gabe, and why? Dark web hackers may be tracking her stealthy movements into various offices, looking for answers. An email informing her that Gabe had recently, uncharacteristically, bought a huge life insurance policy forces her to realize someone has set her up. Surely this evil plan is well beyond ex-boyfriend Jeff's revenge, even if he is a cop.

Odds of Jack finding the killer before the cops close in on her seem almost impossible. High anxiety plus an infected gash under her ribs are draining her energy (it's a wonder she's not in a coma). Author Ware sustains the exhausting pace throughout while a zero-day exploit, worth millions to criminals, infiltrates security apps for thousands of users.

Bits

▪ I couldn't take my eyes off him, off his head, lolling backwards at a sick, unnatural angle that looked so profoundly dead, there was no way I could try to deny the reality of what happened. (35)

▪ "I'm not buying the grieving-little-widow act. I'm going to talk to Rick before her solicitor gets here." (84)

▪ I could have coped—almost—with being arrested for something I hadn't done, even the idea of going to trial, but what I couldn't cope with was the idea of Gabe's killer walking around out there, free and laughing at us both. (86)

▪ I might be able to scale walls and pick locks, but figuring out who killed my husband? That was a job for the police. And they already had their suspect: me. (160)

▪ "I'm saying, what if someone killed Gabe not to punish him, but to punish YOU? And now they're set on ruining your life." (167)

▪ I was fizzing with nerves, biting the inside of my lip so hard my teeth almost met in the soft skin. (214)

▪ That had been unbelievably close. A more decisive guard would have called my bluff—or smelled a rat. (220)

▪ "You know I didn't kill Gabe. And I think I can prove it. I just need that code off his phone." (261)

▪ "I believe it's a serious unpatched vulnerability that affects one—maybe several—of the most popular security apps on the market." (315)

Denise Mina. Blood, Salt, Water. UK: Orion, 2015.

DI Alex Morrow of Police Scotland is directed to keep track of newcomers to Glasgow, Roxanna Fuentecilla and her boyfriend Robin Walker. It's part of a much bigger project to gather evidence of money laundering. Roxanna's good friends in London, Maria and Juan Arias are also being watched, he being a Colombian diplomat. But—suddenly Roxanna goes missing near Helensburgh. In that town, two thugs called Tommy and Iain are disposing of a young woman as they'd been ordered to by Wee Paul, right-hand man of local crime boss Mark Barratt. Iain thus pays off a debt to Barratt, but the debt belonged to his good friend Murray. Killing the woman has unbalanced Iain mentally; he wanders semi-coherently, especially after an arson fire kills two victims. Middle-aged Susan Grierson, a former Scout pack leader, returns to Helensburgh seeking a job with cafe owner Boyd Fraser; she acts very oddly with Iain, showing him her deceased mother's dilapidated, dusty house.

Multiple characters with their own shortsighted problems are interacting, many of them obligated to Barratt, while the upcoming Brexit vote plays in the background. Police Scotland and the Met are vying to claim the illegal loot, when recovered, that they suspect Arias is manipulating. A woman's dead body is found; it's not Roxanna. Lawyer Frank Delahunt has his fingers in the shady insurance business Roxanna bought with someone else's money. Her school-age children are hiding information. Tommy is outfoxing Iain. Susan may not be who she claims to be. Plot and subplots take turns. Plenty of angry people. Morrow is an irritable cop with limited patience; her theory that it's a master criminal enterprise is dismissed by her superiors. Her thoughts sometimes stray to her half-brother Danny, a black market entrepreneur now in prison, whose absence has Glasgow criminals in a turmoil.

Mina is always a deep read. She has a way of getting into the skin of a character – the more complex, the better. Very subtle Tartan Noir, one of her best. I'm still working on what "getting a deal" means in (Scottish) context for the various people who use the phrase.

Morrow

▪ Morrow knew she was right: the Colombians weren't sidelining Fuentecilla and Walker. Roxanna had been sent here to do a job. The question was, what. (29)

▪ Fuentecilla was argumentative, she told them. She argued with everyone. It was unlikely that her domestic set-up was peaceful. (40)

▪ "He's my half-brother," Morrow said quietly. "Just my half-brother, sir." (42)

▪ Morrow knew anger well, its moods and nuances. She found that anger was usually just fear with its make-up on, so her question was this: was Robin Walker frightened because his partner was missing, or was he frightened because someone had called the police? (49)

▪ Morrow spoke slowly: "Who let them in? To the golf course. Who gave them the code to get into the grounds?" (177)

▪ Behind the couch, on its side, a zipped up sleeping bag. Bulky. Leaking. The source of the smell. (235)

Iain

▪ Susan was looking at him, desperation shining out of her. She really wanted him to come to her house. (33)

▪ He knew Iain had done something, five grand's worth of something. Murray was overwhelmed, frightened for Iain, teary and spluttering, "Iain? Man, what've ye fucking done?" (117)

▪ He stayed as the ambulances arrived, two of them, and he watched them load the black body bags, one big, one small, and he watched them leave. (161)

▪ No one would make a move until Mark Barratt got back. The town was waiting for orders. (184)

▪ Her accent sounded much more American now. Iain was in a medicated fog but even he could hear it. (213)

▪ "So, Iain Fraser's your cousin?" (259)

Novels No. 61

 

Helen Fitzgerald. Ash Mountain. UK: Orenda Books, 2020.

This! I'm still shaking my head. A unique piece of work, set in Australia, the portrait of a rural town in trouble will send your blood racing. The place called Ash Mountain is accustomed to extreme temperatures and bush fires; it's where Fran Collins returns to care for her dying father, bumping into memories of growing up. Many unhappy memories. You may not get all the local references, the colloquialisms, the town landmarks, plunged into it as you are from page one, but you will get Fran, and her dad, and the often quirky townsfolk. Parts of it are absurdly funny, like Fran carrying an iPod connected to dad ("Gramps on a Stick") so he can "accompany" her through the neighbourhood to shop and chat with his friends. Or the antics of two galloping, flirtatious ostrich pets. Parts of it are deeply harrowing—in both current story and back story—all taking place in melting heat.

Fitzgerald's style is minimal prose to great effect. At times the shift from one thought to another may seem like a quantum leap; reading between the lines becomes instinctive. We come to understand that "boarders," or The Boarder, means the unruly boys at the regional Catholic school, which brings up the connection to the convent and the connection to the church, where the priests have been less than holy. The "oval" is the town gathering place, like a wide-open park. Fran tries to avoid the man who impregnated her at thirteen, but happily visits her old crush Brian, and seeks the truth about Father Frank's furtive nocturnal movements. Occasionally the narrator is Rosie, Brian's daughter, as the scenes shift between day of the fire and prior activities. Running her dad's household, keeping her teenage daughter Vonny out of trouble, checking out son Dante's organic world, a few old friends to drink with—busy days for Fran.

But on one particular day Ash Mountain people had little warning for the scariest firestorm ever. It is scary. No time to complete the drills they've practised, or find a hiding place. Fire like a satanic roller coaster engulfs every object in its way. Fear is palpable. The noise of wind and flame is terrifying, the air full of smoke, raining with ash and fiery missiles. Fitzgerald shoots words like bullets. Is there any shelter? Where is everyone? A true gem of a small novel.

Bits

▪ Her dad was off his head on Oxies, couldn't move his moving parts, and it took more stamina than a 10k for her to get his jeans off. (17)

▪ There was no fire in here, no flames near the phone, and yet the skin on his hand was changing. (45)

▪ Sunday 10.30 mass was the big show, run by Father Alfonzo in Fran's childhood and adolescence, and by Father Frank after Father Alfonzo was arrested. (54)

▪ Sister Mary Margaret, five rows down, gave Fran a dirty look. Pervy old witch. (55)

▪ Every woman in town fancies my dad, and every single one of them, especially Vonny's mum, can fuck right off. (85)

▪ Dante and Gramps were stoned, sitting opposite each other, making very odd faces, and giggling like crazy. "Sit here, we're finger and face dancing!" Dante said. (123)

▪ Rosie had punched Boarder #3 so hard that he stumbled backwards into the pool and disappeared into the body of the deep end. (138)

▪ Fran made a decision. She would break into the convent via one of the windows in the women's toilets. (156)

▪ His ribs were sticking out in the photographs too, although she could not look at all of them. "I don't like getting my photograph taken," he had whispered to her. (170)

Lisa Jewell. The Family Remains. Large Print. USA: Thorndike Press, 2022.

Here's a splendid example of why Jewell consistently produces bestsellers. Two intermingled families lived in a Chelsea mansion while their various children were growing up in the late 1980s, after which the four children scattered. The author's cast list of the families is helpful. In the current day (2019) we have DI Samuel Owusu of the Metro London police investigating a bag of human bones washed up on the banks of the Thames. Henry of the Lamb family is clearly obsessed with locating his teenage friend Phin(eas) of the Thomsen family. Henry's sister Lucy and her children are temporarily staying with him; something scary in their mutual history makes Lucy very anxious about Henry's fixation, especially when he disappears, following a clue to Phin's whereabouts. Off she goes in pursuit with two children in tow.

So why are we party to the courtship in 2017 of one Rachel Gold, deeply in love with Michael Rimmer? She marries him. Hints at bizarre events in the pasts of all these people are tantalizing. Lucy's three children apparently have different fathers. Her older daughter Libby recently inherited—and sold—a mansion in Chelsea. The riverside bones are identified as those of Birdie Dunlop-Evers, once a musician in a pop band; she died in the early 1990s. Rachel falls out of love. Middle-aged Henry has remodelled himself to look as much as possible like he remembers Phin. Phin is a mystery, for years avoiding his sister and childhood friends. Michael has a child by a previous marriage. It's deliciously complicated.

At first the narrative was a bit disorienting time-wise, but diligent DI Samuel doesn't stop hunting until he knows who killed Birdie; his case unexpectedly encompasses individual connections from the long-ago household. A killer, an impersonator, a blackmailer, a psycho? No alarming details here; the "childhood house of horrors" is for the reader to imagine; Jewell knows precisely how much or little to feed us. More Lisa Jewell on my list!

Bits

▪ As it is, I am not straight, and neither am I the sort of man that other men wish to form lengthy and meaningful relationships with, so that leaves me in the worst possible position – an unlovable gay man with fading looks. (21: Henry)

▪ Was she still Rachel Gold, the ice princess, the ball-breaker, the statuesque brunette who could never find a man to meet her high ideals? Or was she now somebody completely different? (113-4)

▪ "I feel — Jesus. I feel like I don't know you, Rachel. I feel like I married a fucking stranger." (141)

▪ I am Phin's living, breathing nightmare and he hates me. (262: Henry)

▪ "And I'm sorry that I'm all you've got. You deserve better than me, Dad, you really, really do." (282:Rachel)

▪ I said: It is quite a coincidence that this unusual name was on graffiti inside a house you inherited and is also the name of your very, very good friend. (357: Samuel)

▪ Lucy nodded, her eyes wide. Rachel saw tears shimmering on their surfaces and then Lucy clutched Rachel's arm and squeezed it. Rachel looked down at Lucy's hand and blinked. (389)

▪ "When you are a parent, not being able to feed your child is just about the worst, most soul-destroying thing imaginable. And now I can feed you. I can clothe you. I can give you warm beds to sleep in—" (394: Lucy)

▪ "He's not my brother; he's my uncle." (454: Libby)