Novels No. 5 (LL323)

 

Peter Robinson. Standing in the Shadows. Canada: McClelland & Stewart, 2023.

Did Robinson know his time was short as he wrote this novel? His iconic Inspector Alan Banks waxes nostalgic for past times, and I expect the childhood and youthful memories are Robinson's own. The story also lends itself well to recalling so many "oldie" music albums: Robinson's well-known passion.

Detective Superintendent Banks is alerted by an archaeology outfit that a fairly recent skeleton was unearthed in their dig. Because the signs indicate murder, so begins a very difficult job for Banks's team ‒ Gerry Masterson, Winsome Jackman, "Wilkie" Collins ‒ along with the usual forensic specialists, to determine the who, when, and why. Identification seems all but impossible. The former owner of the land in question is able to help narrow a time frame in years. Banks's case is unfolding alternately with the story of student Nick Hartley forty years earlier. It's at the time when the Yorkshire Ripper has northern England terrified. Nick's socialist-advocate girlfriend Alice has ditched him for Mark, an older guy who shares her proclivity for demonstrations and protests. But Alice is murdered and Mark disappears; Nick can't help thinking Mark killed her.

We know the two stories will merge somehow, and the path seems fairly direct. Is it almost too obvious? Banks unwinds the complex events with the aid of his highly-placed pal Burgess, a man involved with an official inquiry scrutinizing police and personnel at various levels of national security. Banks perseveres to pull the truth about the skeleton from those involved. Nick has become a hotshot journalist over the years, still carrying a love for Alice; he is no further informed about her death, but reporting on that very inquiry raises a red flag. This particular novel is more about brainstorming and leg work than physical action.

For us, it's sadly unfortunate that some of Robinson's collateral stories will remain unfinished—DI Annie Cabbot's closure with her father Ray's death; Ray's partner Zelda, whose hidden location only Banks knows. Having created the most empathetic of detectives, Robinson always integrated his stories with contemporary events and a vivid portrait of Yorkshire surroundings. We will so miss Banksy and his close associates. RIP Peter Robinson, 1950 - 2022.

Nick's story

▪ Alice had also spoken at a conference on sexual violence in all its forms ‒ in the workplace, on the streets, at home. She argued that the more power women asked for, the more men used sexual violence as a means of control. (17)

▪ If they really believe that I'd killed Alice, or that I was the Yorkshire Ripper or something, then fuck them. (129)

▪ "I brought it to show them, DI Glassco and DC Marley," I said. "It could be important." (156)

▪ I was pretty much certain by then that Alice hadn't been one of Sutcliffe's victims, and that the police had known this all along, because of certain peculiarities in the crimes that hadn't been present in the case of Alice. (245)

▪ He paused, and Gerry could see the journalist take over. "But I can certainly believe that about the police squashing the investigation." (295)

▪ Was it simply his journalistic training, or did he have something to hide? (299)

Banks's case

▪ Sundays meant movie, music and book reviews. He always seemed to end up buying or streaming something. (13)

▪ "The way it works these days, if you did anything out of line in the last fifty years or so, you can expect it to come back and bite you on the arse any day now." (45)

▪ The one drawback to his high rank was less time on the streets, the nitty-gritty of an investigation, so he took every opportunity he could to get out there, even on a straightforward follow-up interview like this one, something he probably could have done over the phone. (130)

▪ "At least now we know he was a relatively slim, perhaps fit, man between fifty-five and sixty with a penchant for good quality, expensive footwear and suits, who disappeared between 2012 and 2016." (180)

▪ "Interview terminated," he said. "I think I've been patient enough with the two of you, but I've had enough." (192)

▪ "Marley made it as far as DI. And Glassco was a detective superintendent when he died." (238)

▪ "One of Wesley's greatest skills was staying a few steps ahead of us and an ability always to find a viable hiding place or an unbreakable alibi." (267)

▪ "But you know as well as I do that sometimes you don't get anywhere in a complicated investigation unless you use your imagination and make the occasional leap." (291)

David Guterson. The Final Case. USA: Vintage Books/Penguin Random House, 2022.

The measure of what some people will do in the name of religion or power pretty well sums up world history. Any smaller act of domination and cruelty contributes to humanity's shame. Crime fiction is full of it, thrives on it. The best books require an intellectual workout.

Our unnamed narrator is a middle-aged writer tired of creating fiction; he idles his time in bookshops or observes customers as literary characters at his sister Danielle's tea shop, among other innocuous pastimes. His father is an elderly lawyer who takes on a pro bono case—that of Betsy Harvey, accused together with her husband Delvin, of "homicide by abuse." Betsy and Delvin already had seven kids when they adopted Abeba from an African orphanage, presumably to spread the family love and good Christian fundamentals. Instead, their severe forms of discipline and hellfire rants have all but robotized their children out of fear. Ultimately, Abeba ‒ re-named Abigail ‒ refuses to obey the petty commands that call for punishment; over time she is slapped, spanked, whipped, deprived of food, and locked in a closet. She died on a freezing night outside the Harveys' back door.

Mr. Narrator never opines on the trial he watches. It is his father, who does a superior job defending Betsy, who captures son's attention rather than the ugliness being exposed. But father dies mid-trial. Son returns to his life as before, with loving memories of dad and no mention of the Harveys or their new trial until they are declared guilty and excoriated mercilessly—as pure evil—by the sentencing judge. Without names, the father-son relationship seems more intimate somehow, more enduring, eclipsing the horrific, senseless abuse detailed in a courtroom. The son finds his non-fiction niche. Beautifully written, take your time to get into this man's shoes.

Father and son

▪ "What I'd like," he said, "if it isn't asking too much, is to go on for as long as possible working. I've always said that when the time comes I'd like to drop dead in the middle of a closing speech to the jury, but the odds are against that." (15)

▪ My father was disarming. There were few chinks in his armor of self-effacement. (17)

▪ "Betsy," said my father, "is untrusting of people. And something else. Hygiene is important to her. I say that to you so you won't try to shake her hand." (62)

▪ "To tell you the truth, a lot of things in my work are sad. It's sort of a sad world to have to move around in." (123)

▪ He sat next to me, sighed, and dropped his head, and for at least a full minute, neither of us spoke. We said nothing because it was possible for us to do that. (175)

▪ And while there, I thought the kind of thoughts that are likely during an interlude of this sort—the bell tolls for thee; everything passes; today is a good day to die; buck up; why waste a single moment of life making yourself unhappy; some day the sun will overwhelm the earth; it's all crazy and absurd; get out of here and do something useful. (233-4)

The Harveys

▪ I'm going to live with Americans, but I'm never going to forget about you. Is that what you think? Well, it isn't true. I'm coming back to Ethiopia one day. (101)

▪ They were apocalyptic, meaning they believed that the world will end soon in a bloodbath, and that afterward all those who haven't taken Jesus as their savior will go to hell. (124)

▪ The Harveys could beat their children in the name of religion, citing while so doing the First Amendment, and the agency that approved them as adoptive parents, hamstrung by the Fourteenth Amendment, couldn't ask about that in the process of vetting them. (235-6)

And a quote I simply liked:

▪ He was, like me, in the middle of his life, steeped in his years but not brutalized by them. (204)

Abeba, on her Homeland

"At night I used to hear hyena people laughing. They barked like dogs do sometimes, but they also laughed. I remember that. The way they laughed. They sounded like people. Exactly like people outside the wall of my house. The same way people do right now in this country. But here, it's through a closet door. (238)