Novels No. 86

 

Martin Cruz Smith. Hotel Ukraine. NYC: Simon & Schuster, 2025.

“The Final Arkady Renko Novel” rings the saddest note because Smith died last month from the same illness he gives his literary detective. Smith’s insights into contemporary Russia are always significant and all the sharper, here, for aligning with the 2022 invasion of Ukraine. Arkady, Investigator for the Prosecutor’s office, is tasked with finding who killed Deputy Defense Minister Kazasky, bludgeoned and stabbed in his luxurious Hotel Ukraine suite. Victor is Arkady’s detective partner and friend who supplies the necessary sarcasm as they navigate the chaotic expediencies of Russian bureaucracy—saddled with Marina Makarova, inflexible FSB watchdog and once-girlfriend of Arkady. Building the narrative are two more characters: Arkady’s great love Tatiana, the dauntless journalist exposing Russian lies about the war for American readers; adopted son Zhenya, a tech whiz with the clandestine Black Army, a virtual coalition of Russian and Ukrainian activists against the war.

In a big way, the novel is a window on the current war (the army forbids the word war; it’s a special military operation). When Arkady is suspended from his job for not reporting his Parkinson’s, he decides to follow up on a war crime video Kazasky had hidden and that Zhenya managed to decode. Tatiana is only too happy to accompany him with her cameraman on a secret visit to Bucha, Ukraine, for more evidence. Author Smith doesn’t hold back on how actual events had unfolded there, referred to as the Massacre of Bucha. Lev Volkov is a military contractor whose fictional elite private army—the 1812 Group (think: Wagner mercenaries)—slaughtered civilians there; their atrocities are not attributed to regular soldiers. 1812’s weapons give Arkady the clue he needs to solve Kazasky’s case. But danger lies in every move he makes and almost every word he speaks; beware the tea and the vodka!

I’ve been reading Smith since 1981 (Gorky Park) and this ‒ this ‒ for me is best of all, so valid in its quietly dramatic emotional reach. Anyone with East European family will relate. RIP: awesome author and unique protagonist.

Shards

▪ Moscow murders were overkill, paroxysms of rage and frustration—at life, at fate, at other people—played out with whatever was at hand—vodka and knives, hammers and guns—until the killer’s fury was spent and the victim was dead. (18)

▪ Marina was a woman of steel in a trouser suit, a true believer in the old KGB concept of sword and shield, warrior for and defender of national law, and if she’d yet to meet a means not justified by an end, then Arkady didn’t know about it. (20)

▪ Putin ensured that 1812 received funds and weapons that would and should otherwise have gone to the regular army. (69)

▪ The dull thunk of artillery bombardment, Arkady thought, the age-old Russian way of solving problems. Nothing succeeded like excess. (126-7)

▪ “You must have seen the bodies on your way here. One day we’ll hold a mass for them, the ones whose names we know and the ones we don’t. None of them deserved to die this way.” (160)

▪ “Everyone in Bucha wants the world to see what the Russians have done to them. Stay somewhere safe while you write their story.” (171)

▪ “I’ve spent two decades exposing corrupt leadership and it’s as if nobody cares enough to do anything about it. There’s more corruption now than there’s ever been.” (173)

▪ Arkady had only the vaguest idea what an electronic footprint was, but he still feared that Zhenya was leaving one that was too big, and that sooner or later someone would spot it. (179)

Gillian McAllister. Famous Last Words. USA: William Morrow Large Print (UK: HarperCollins), 2025.

Together for some years and getting used to their nine-month-old baby Polly, Luke and Camilla Deschamps are a well-matched, happy couple. At least Cam thinks so, until one day Luke disappears from her life to become a wanted criminal. Cam is a literary agent which is how she met Luke, who is a published ghostwriter. He’s left only a puzzling note: It’s been so lovely with you both. How can she possibly comprehend that her easygoing husband took three hostages at gunpoint that day, killing two of them in an old warehouse surrounded by cops. Bits of recent uncharacteristic behaviour on Luke’s part drift into her consciousness but she’s not going to tell police for fear they will shoot him. Shocked and bewildered as Cam is, Niall the hostage negotiator is also devastated that his mission failed; if only he hadn’t delayed sending in the cops.

After seven years Niall still has traumatic after-effects; he fixates on finding Luke alive somewhere. It’s time for Cam to have Luke declared dead so she can sell their jointly-owned house. She is still being monitored for any possibility of contact from Luke, though most believe he is dead; the two men he shot were never identified. But Cam is having odd experiences—a feeling of being followed, anonymous emails that say nothing, a brief moment with a woman claiming to be a dead hostage’s wife. Trying to move on in a new relationship with Charlie, is she still in love with Luke, whom she believes is essentially a good man? Is he alive and hiding? Can anything justify his crimes? It feels like Cam and Niall are each spinning their wheels; the same mental reflections over and over become tedious.

If it’s not clear: this novel did not grab me. The entire warehouse siege was painfully slow, in minute-by-minute negotiation decisions and police protocols, lacking suspense. Seven years later, same psychological emphasis with little action until the conclusion that requires total suspension of disbelief.

Cam

▪ Her husband has wiped his laptop. He has lied to her about reporting a crime to the police. (117-8)

▪ She clutches at the skin on her stomach, at her hair. She wants to scream at her broken heart to stop beating. He’s a killer. (159)

▪ Her mind hardened, seven years ago, around a Luke-shaped wound, never to be the same again. (253)

▪ When, when, when will this ever leave her? This grief. This forever invasion of her life. This infamy. (281)

▪ Cam stares at Adam, dumbfounded. “You posted me your book?” she says. “Your crime novel ...?” (439)

Niall

▪ He is interrupted by Maidstone, talking into his radio. “Engage protocol: negotiator to approach the building in two minutes for first contact.” (107)

▪ “That’s my wife!” he shouts. “That’s my wife on the phone! I heard you say her name as you came outside!” (135-6)

▪ And then, over her shoulder, she throws him a single line: “For a hostage negotiator, you are a terrible communicator in marriage.” (232)

▪ “You were right to stall, even if it didn’t work out like you expected. He was not the perpetrator everyone said he was.” (358)

▪ “The man on the dark web—Harry. He told Deschamps he could hide him, if necessary—way back when.” (393)