Novels No. 70

 

Jean Hanff Korelitz. The Plot. USA: Celadon Books/Macmillan, 2021.

Jacob Finch Bonner is a writer with one well-received novel. Since then he'd felt blocked, eking a living by coaching aspiring writers and teaching creative writing at places like Ripley College. Jake's whole being revolves around whether he can produce an even better second novel, although he's creatively inert, anguishing that he might be a one-hit wonder, finding little interest in his students or clients. But slowly an idea germinates, having come from Evan Parker, an obnoxious student. Evan already had a finished manuscript, allowing Jake as teacher to view a mere few pages; smugly confident of his superior skills, Evan verbally described the plot to him. When Jake learns that Evan died not long after his college days, with no sign that the manuscript was ever published, he decides it's too unique a story not to develop. And so the writing flows again and Jake triumphs with his intriguing new novel called Crib, reviews and sales fulfilling his wildest dreams. His publisher, his agent Matilda, his editor Wendy, everyone is thrilled.

On one of his book tours he meets media producer Anna Williams, and the mutual attraction results in marriage, Anna moving into his New York apartment. Fate steps in, in the form of "TalentedTom"* harassing Jake with emails like You're a thief and JacobFinchBonner is not the author of Crib. The reference to "Ripley" strikes fear in Jake as the messages start showing up on social media; he may be exposed as a fraud and is too ashamed to tell anyone the origin of his plot. Matilda and cohort believe the matter is simply an envious, malicious troll. He keeps Anna in the dark about his problem; she attributes his noticeable stress to work on the next book. Jake is asking himself who could possibly be familiar with the manuscript that Evan had refused to show anyone? After researching student names from that particular class, Jake eventually visits Evan's home town where his unfortunate family is remembered.

Did Jake deserve the anonymous condemnation, his own self-torment? Ideas can't be copyrighted—but when is an idea someone's story? Bits of Crib with its shocking event are scattered throughout to confound the issue. The Plot is a challenging exercise, not to mention bearing relentless suspense as a very angry guy intends to ruin a writer.

* Name of iconic character in author Patricia Highsmith's The Talented Mr. Ripley.

Fragments

▪ When the session ended, this pompous, withholding, and profoundly irritating person had simply gone away, presumably to do what he needed to do in order to bring his book to the light. But actually, just to die. (60-1)

▪ But there was one thing he actually did believe in that bordered on the magical, or at least the beyond-pedestrian, and that was the duty a writer owed to a story. (61)

▪ Each morning after she left for work he sat paralyzed at his desk clicking back and forth from Facebook to Twitter to Instagram, Googling himself every hour or so to see if anything had broken through, taking the temperature of his own alarm to see whether he was afraid, or merely afraid of being afraid. (141-2)

▪ "Evan Parker? Listen to anyone's problems? Evan Parker didn't give a shit about anyone else's problems." (190)

▪ If only Evan Parker's novel had been fictional, but unfortunately it was quite real. (192)

▪ Any novelist would understand what he'd done. Any novelist would have done exactly the same. (227)

▪ "All right," she conceded. "So maybe plagiarism isn't the right word. Maybe theft of story gets closer." (232)

▪ "That bastard just helped himself to my entire life story. Now you know that isn't right, Jake, don't you?" (311)

Jackie Kabler. The Perfect Couple. UK: OneMoreChapter/HarperCollins, 2020.

Grabbed from in-house library ...

Married less than a year, Gemma and Danny O'Connor have just moved to Bristol from London. He works in cyber security, she's a freelance journalist but no longer covers crime stories. Unknown to them at first, DCI Helena Dickens and her police team are struggling with the mysterious bludgeoning deaths of two local men. After a few weeks in their happy new home, Danny simply disappears; Gemma is frantic and finally calls police. Helena does not believe her – that Danny ever came to Bristol at all, for lack of evidence – he never turned up at the job he said he went to daily, never seen by neighbours. The weirdness piles on when they all see that Danny not only physically resembles the two murdered men, but also a search of their prior London home discloses a horrifying amount of weeks-old blood. But no body.

Narrated between Gemma and Helena, both are frustrated for different, but related reasons. Gemma is half-mad with worry and fear; surely Danny would contact her if he were alive. Dickens thinks Gemma is hiding the truth behind elaborate lies. And the pressure is on to find who committed the local killings. Unfolding events touch on internet dating, Danny's unlovely Irish family, similar murders in London, cousin Quinn, a false confession, and an avalanche of media attention. Gemma and her friend Eva try to decipher Danny's deception, aware that the police don't believe her. Finally Dickens decides to go with accumulated circumstantial evidence to arrest Gemma for Danny's murder, sans body. I came to my own theory early on, only partially vindicated because of a tricky twist.

The story never fully engaged me, perhaps because it was slow-moving yet very wordy. To me, it belaboured the point of Gemma's devastated and desperate state of mind. A strange story, it requires full investment in an unusual psychological issue.

Gemma

▪ Where the hell were the photos I wanted, the ones from the past few weeks? And why were only some of the recent pictures missing, and not all of them? (47)

▪ "What the hell is wrong with me? Why didn't I notice, why didn't I realize something was wrong?" (99)

▪ "Because whether he's alive or dead now, he's definitely been hiding something, your Danny. That much is pretty clear. We just need to figure out what it was." (134)

▪ Fear wasn't a big enough word for this, not big enough for the all-consuming anguish, this confusion, the growing sense that everything around me was spinning faster and faster, completely out of control. (163)

▪ "But that's his watch, I know it is. Look, there." I jabbed a finger at the screen. "It's really unusual – it's a Nomos Terra, I bought it for him as a wedding gift." (238)

▪ I'd been arrested and was sitting in a police cell. Me, Gemma O'Connor, journalist, magazine columnist, of previous excellent character – not even a parking ticket, for God's sake – had been arrested, on suspicion of murder and attempted murder. (318)

Police

▪ "Another job somewhere, that for some reason he didn't tell his wife about? Or was he doing something else entirely?" (53)

▪ "There haven't been any cash withdrawals, Gemma, not for weeks as I said. No debit card purchases either." (73)

▪ "In addition, Danny seems to have vanished but taken absolutely nothing with him. His passport, clothes, everything is still there, correct?" (150)

▪ "Did Gemma actually send this message, and not Danny himself, because she was planning to kill him, or indeed had already killed him, and didn't want alarm bells to ring when he failed to turn up at his new place of work?" (158)

▪ "It means we've got this wrong. We've got this all wrong." (347)

Novels No. 69

 

Alafair Burke. The Note. USA: Alfred A. Knopf, 2025.

May Hanover has just ushered out two policemen from her home, lying to her fiancé Josh about why they came to see her, then quietly warns her friends Lauren and Kelsey that they too can expect a police visit. And so a tantalizing mystery begins. Cause and effect; ripple effect. Six days earlier the three women, besties since music camp days, share a vacation home in the Hamptons. Always in touch by texting, they've dubbed themselves The Canceled Crew—because each experienced some form of public humiliation to their reputations. Kelsey is now working in her father's lucrative real estate business, but it took years to recover from her husband's unsolved murder and the social shunning that blamed her for it. Lauren is a gifted musician in her own right whose position heading a major symphony orchestra is attributed maliciously to her influential, married lover. May's legal training and admired prosecution style almost collapsed when she lost it in public over one-too-many racist slurs; a video of her raging and screaming at the wrong man went viral.

Before you can say martini, the trio begin a marathon party night at local bars and restaurants, reminiscent of their younger, wilder days. At one point, a smug driver deliberately steals the parking space they were waiting for; later they vilify him among themselves in high spirits. Kelsey doesn't tell them when she places a nasty note on the anonymous man's car—the Note that comes back to haunt them. Without spoilers, I can merely say that although each woman now avoids publicity like the plague, one little note intended as a mean joke, one little harmless lie to the cops, and the matter swells to unforeseen dimensions. Because the man in question disappears that weekend, feared dead by family, and three charges of murder are coming.

Brilliant, just brilliant: Burke outdoes herself detailing the lives and associates of our three. As long as you know what ghosting and gaslighting and catfishing and FOMO mean ☺. Each personality is carefully drawn, including conscientious detective Carter Decker, exploring friendship, professional stability, and legal complexities—the latter Burke's specialty—in the most absorbing way.

Bits

▪ To my assailant, I wasn't just a Chink or a bitch, but the most despised combination of all: an Asian American woman. (108)

▪ Once Lauren began to hear rumours that the camp owner's hand had gone up her skirt, she knew she could not remain an effective den mother. (122-3)

▪ "She was an extraordinary talent. When he called me to say her body was found in the lake, he just broke down." (154)

▪ "It was just a stupid note. A practical joke. It's not a crime. And you told the truth." (174)

▪ "Wait, you said your name's Kelsey? That's not what I have. Am I looking at the wrong records?" (178)

▪ "You go off on Kelsey for keeping secrets, and yet here you are, after all these years? After all the chances you've had to tell me it was you?" (188)

▪ "The responding patrol officer found the driver's-side seat fully reclined. Two gunshots, right in the face." (190)

▪ "Luke could have forced Kelsey to destroy the embryos once they were divorced. But with him deceased, she gets to make the call on whether to implant them or not?" (205

Michael Idov. The Collaborators. USA: Simon & Schuster, 2024.

Ari Falk is a seasoned pro with America's premium intelligence agency in an espionage tale of familiar enemies: CIA vs KGB (or GRU, FSB, whatever the current acronym). That is to say, the tale begins thusly but veers off script somewhere between the hammam in Istanbul and the shootout in Ari's Riga office (exposing Russian corruption but masquerading as a news agency). His best Russian asset, Anton, turns into a poisoned corpse (remember real-life Litvinenko who died from drinking tea in England?); his two invaluable employees are dead, the office destroyed. Ari was probably meant to die too, but why? What has he done or learned recently to cause this mayhem? His boss Harlow orders him two weeks R&R in London before a return to Langley HQ. But Ari hoodwinks his MI6 minder and hooks up with Alan Keeger, an idealistic data processor with a massive network of volunteer sleuths. Ari's going to get to the bottom of this with or without CIA blessing.

Serious spy stuff, of course—but what style! Author Idov's tongue is firmly in cheek at the right moments. Ari is just getting started. So is Maya Chou Obrandt, an aspiring actress in LA whose financier father Paul suddenly drowned himself off a yacht near Portugal. She can't read the letter in cursive Russian her dad left her, but with so many mixed feelings she needs to know what took place on that yacht. Off Maya goes to Tangier seeking the yacht captain; instead she meets Ari Falk who saves her life, although the captain is a goner. It's much more complicated as we learn about Maya's family in the 1990s and Ari's off-the-books pursuit to avenge his dead colleagues. Duplicitous bankers, gobs of stolen money, evil assassins, missing travellers, disgusting Moscow restaurants, and a headstrong Maya—the revelations are dizzying and Ari's tradecraft skills are challenged to the max.

Definitely not your average spy story, and in addition to the cheeky humour we get fascinating insights into past international election interferences (think "collaborators"). Feel the subtle reverberations of our own present days. It's all too credible enough to ask yourself who really runs the world. Let's have more Ari Falk.

Fragments

▪ That was the way the game was played now: each side making its lies as shameless as possible and daring others to do something about it. (20)

▪ "She said 'my husband.' But older Russian women say that about anyone they date for over a week." (33)

▪ "What? Is he not a piece of shit for what he did? And I don't even mean leaving you to clean up the mess," Maya yelled, fully unhinged now and feeling almost elated with rage. (57)

▪ Karikh couldn't have felt stupider. ... No one coming off the plane made eye contact. Was this a setup? A prank? Some kind of operational redundancy? (60)

▪ "Right now you've got three dead guys around you, one potential ally, and one free motorcycle. If you don't come out in ten seconds, it's just going to be you and the dead guys. Your choice." (111)

▪ "In the eyes of the world, you will come to Russia supported by the sane European center and not all-the-way-to-Stalin left, while the old US of A keeps throwing its weight behind Boris." (161)

▪ Much less explicable than the attack itself was the fact that two untrained journalists fought it off well enough to send both assailants into the grave with one clean head shot each. (83)

▪ A whole tableful of puzzle pieces clicked together. Balashov's spectacular Saul-to-Paul conversion was a psyop, the revelations in his essays preapproved, and the corrupt officials he was blasting had likely just fallen out of favor with his bosses. (177-8)

▪ Of course. How could I forget. The Russians don't exfiltrate. No asset is worth the trouble. (206)

▪ They walked into the low-ceilinged living room, depressingly neat and done up in a mix of Desert Modernism and International Grandma. (215)

Novels No. 68

Richard Osman. We Solve Murders. Large Print. USA: Random House, 2024.

Rosie D'Antonio is a wealthy, lively, bestselling novelist of a certain age who hired security firm Maximum Impact Solutions because a Russian wants to kill her. Her assigned bodyguard is Amy Wheeler whom mystery man François Loubet is trying to kill; Loubet uses murder broker Rob Kenna who chooses Eddie Flood as the hit man. Thanks to a generous new investment, Felicity's failing theatrical agency is reborn as Vivid Viral Media, herself unaware that she's now a front for money-smuggling—attracting would-be internet influencers like Bonnie Gregor as innocent mules. Amy's boss Jeff disappears after his actor client Max Highfield walks out, heading for rival security firm operated by Henk van Veen, Jeff's ex-partner. Steve Wheeler, retired cop and father of Amy's absent husband Adam, is willing to leave his comfort zone temporarily to help Amy find whoever killed three of those mules, so Amy can kill the killer before she gets killed.

It's like that. Love it or hate it, it's Osman at his absurdist best. Luckily, Rosie has her own jet for transporting Amy and Steve here and there. They need to unravel the elaborate plot that frames Amy for the three killings. Oh-oh, two more dead mules surface. Adam happens to be in Dubai just where he's useful. Steve, fretting that he might miss his regular trivia night in the pub back home, gets his pal Tony to interview Felicity for possible clues. Rosie can't help flirting with Steve even when drug dealer Nelson Nunez has them at gunpoint. Steve's neighbour Gary, reformed drug smuggler, provides a convenient helipad and safe house. The only character who seems slightly out of context is Loubet, confiding to us in first person mode; even he doesn't know the identity of his own informant Joe Blow.

Dialogue is the crazy glue that binds these opinionated people into fast-paced entertainment. It also happens to be a tricky, insidious mystery; screwball fun if you're in the mood. Who knew money-laundering mules were so epidemic?

Very Random Bits

▪ "Harry Styles gave me that jacket," says Max. (32)

▪ "You can catch people on your doorbell these days, can't you? Could we try that?" (71)

▪ Big Navy SEAL with a gun directly behind her. Who is doing this? Who needs her dead? (96)

▪ Rosie only really has one rule in life: if you see a door, walk through it. (104)

▪ "Sir," says the man, flicking through Steve's passport and looking at him again, "I hope you don't think we're having a conversation." (168)

▪ "God don't care about yesterday," says Barb. "God cares about tomorrow. I'll make you a rose hip fusion, and I'll put a bit of kale in it." (191)

▪ Steve and Rosie are singing along to a song about country roads that she has never heard. If someone is going to kill her, please let it be now. (217)

▪ How easy it seems to be to talk to Felicity Woollaston. Spies mustn't fall in love, though. It's the first rule. (253)

▪ "I heard you were a DJ," says Big Mick. "Apart from that, I don't want to know." (283)

▪ "I'm not getting in a minibus," says Rosie. "No disrespect to anyone." (364)

Denise Mina. Conviction. USA: Mulholland/Little, Brown and Company, 2019.

This is one of Mina's that I missed. Then I received it as an ebook which lasted a few seconds as my tablet informed me that it could not support TPL upgrades. So. Moving on.

Anna is a woman addicted to true crime podcasts. One morning her marriage to Hamish explodes in front of their two young daughters; in truth, she's not the most likeable protagonist, sometimes prone to violence. As Anna deals – poorly – with the fallout, tuning into a podcast called Death and the Dana for distraction. The owner of the private yacht that inexplicably blew up and sank at sea with owner himself and two teenagers aboard is a name she knows. Leon Parker. A man she'd once met and admired while working at Castle Skibo resort in Scotland. The podcast cuts through the contemporary media hype, the lax police work that nevertheless convicted a young chef for their murders; the producer and narrator, Trina Keany, concludes that Parker likely sabotaged the ship to kill himself and his two children.

At the time, Leon had recently married Gretchen Tiegler, head of an ultra-powerful European family. A woman who had once tried to kill Anna. Or is Anna her real name? As the podcast winds on, Anna is clearly in a panic, resisting suicidal thoughts, racing to see old friends in Scotland, but stuck with tag-along anorexic Fin—husband of the woman Hamish had just absconded with. Fin was lately a rock band star, mourning his now-bankrupt status. Anna feels compelled to disprove the podcast's rationale, to defend her long-ago friend, but her real undoing is a photo of herself and Fin, taken as they drove away and posted online. After years of shielding her identity, Anna again becomes a target for Gretchen.

If that makes it sound fairly straightforward, it's not. It's an inventive, intricate, intriguing story—or two. The fractious but tender relationship between Anna and Fin is irresistible, especially when he spontaneously becomes a podcaster himself. There seem to be no limits to author Mina's versatility, creativity, and relevance.

Bits

▪ I was just sitting on the side of the bath, wishing I was dead. Hamish was leaving me. He was taking my girls. My friend had betrayed me. (49)

▪ "It's just low blood sugar. When I haven't eaten for a while." (107)

▪ I didn't believe Leon would kill his kids but was sure that Gretchen had decided who the official killer would be. This had her stamp all over it. (111)

▪ "Ooooh," Adam grinned. "Like you're armchair detectives now?" (141)

▪ "Anna, no one pays a crew in cash up front. They've got every reason to fuck off." (141)

▪ A body was on the ground thirty feet away, moving in the dark. Twin red lights blinked and reverse lights came on. (201)

▪ I felt as if I was sliding off the side of the world. I started crying. Fin took my hand and held it until I stopped. (221)

▪ I might never get to speak to her again so I just blurted it out: "Trina, no one tells the truth about her. No one stands up to her." (227)

▪ "The same dress. Twice." She seemed quite pleased about the sale. (262)

▪ "Violetta was too good to say it but I did: You. Are. Broke. Stop spending, Leon!" (283)

 

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)