Novels No. 97

 

Michael Connelly. Nightshade. USA: Little, Brown and Company, 2025.

Delicious! Connelly introduces a fresh new protagonist, Detective Sergeant Stilwell. Catalina Island is the locale, where the local sheriff substation is manned by demoted cops who screwed up elsewhere. It rotates; they return to mainland (“overtown” or “overland”) California after proving themselves worthy again. But since homicide Captain Corum sent him here, Stilwell wants to stay; the outdoorsy marine life appeals to him, not to mention increasingly serious feelings for his girlfriend, assistant harbourmaster Tash Dano. Most of his work entails minor transgressions, often to do with visiting sailors and party animals at this popular weekend destination. Receptionist Mercy Chapa anchors the substation as jack-of-all-trades, while prosecutor Monika Juarez and Judge Harrell attend intermittently for court.

Things get heavy when a female corpse, obviously murdered, is found on the harbour bottom. Homicide detectives Ahearn and Sampedro from overtown are put in charge, but that doesn’t stop Stilwell from pursuing local leads on his own initiative. Ahearn’s hostility over an old grudge promises friction ahead. The body seems to be Leigh-Anne Moss, recently fired as a server at the exclusive Black Marlin Club in town, says manager Crane. With the investigation expanding beyond Catalina, the victim’s interesting activities come to light. Stilwell also has minor cases to take care of, opening up both island life and his own personality for us. But two of those cases hide ominous plans—people are disappearing or being killed.

Through these threads, Connelly works his signature style in measured prose as both a police procedural and a thriller. Stilwell is a man slightly more gentle than, but just as fierce, as our old friend Bosch. Nightshade is a flower, it’s a colour, it’s poison. And it’s a welcome new novel.

Bits

▪ He had a tattoo of a diamond ring on his neck below his left ear and a full sleeve of tats on his right arm depicting skulls, flowers, and a three-digit number Stilwell didn’t recognize but guessed was the area code of his place of origin. (16)

▪ It was a felony theft report filed by the general manager of the Black Marlin Club. (55)

▪ “He was ordering new airlines and filters. He told me all about the girl wrapped in an anchor chain.” (81)

▪ “We’re not partners and you’re not homicide. You’re going to be a nobody as soon as Corum takes your badge.” (157)

▪ “Monika!” Stilwell shouted. “Go next door and get the EMTs. Now!” (226)

▪ Stilwell moved toward her, checking Spivak as he passed. The shot had struck him above the right eyebrow. (244)

▪ “Terminated? You mean fired? No. Not that I know of. She was going to move in here with me.” (264)

▪ “You are the only one I told that I hadn’t sent the saw handle to the lab yet, that it was still on the island,” he said. “That’s why they grabbed Tash.” (275)

Sarah Pekkanen. The Locked Ward. USA: St. Martin’s Press, 2025.

If you buy into the twins-separated-at-birth trope (shades of Julie Chan), this one’s a dilly. We’re told that Georgia Cartwright and Amanda (Mandy) Ravenel were separated at birth and adopted out, neither being told she’s a twin. Georgia landed in a family of financial and social privilege where her mother Honey always favoured younger daughter Annabelle; job-wise, Georgia is a wedding planner for the upper classes. Mandy was raised by working class parents; dad eventually purchased the pub where he worked and now Mandy runs it. Georgia is charged with murdering Annabelle at her birthday party, believing the real killer framed her—whoever it was. Terrified for her life if she appears “normal,” she’s in a psych facility emulating dissociative disorder behaviour. Through a complex series of events, she reaches out to her newly discovered twin as the only one who can help her.

Even though the two women are as strangers, they feel the biological link. No one else is yet aware of their re-connection. Constantly watched in the ward, and in her protective disguise, Georgia can only encourage Mandy to investigate her recent movements and contacts. The short snappy chapters alternating from one woman to the other increase the tension dramatically while Mandy plays into Georgia’s lifestyle, aware now that powerful interests are eliminating anyone seeking information about the night of the murder. And Georgia’s time is running out—if she goes to trial she’s certain they will kill her in prison, the option being condemned to the asylum where mind-altering medication will be forced on her for years.

Interesting that in the midst of dysfunctional Cartwright family dynamics, neither twin shows interest in who their biological parents were. It’s one scary situation after another in a life-or-death quest to expose a desperate unknown killer. Truly twisty.

Mandy

▪ “Who divided us up?” Georgia asks me. “Who decided which twin went where?” (119)

▪ I’m not being paranoid. Someone broke into my apartment tonight. (149)

▪ She sent someone to my town, to my bar, to violate my space. (171)

▪ Every single person in this tangled, sordid mess seems like a twisted liar—including my twin, who dragged me into it and complicated my memories of my parents. (249)

▪ She throws back her head and laughs. “You stupid girl.” (258)

Georgia

▪ You are supposedly in a dissociative state, which you learned about years ago because you wrote a twenty-page paper on it for a college psychology class. (24)

▪ Maybe she doesn’t yet realize you’ve put her life at risk to save your life. (185)

▪ If the senator tossed aside DeeDee for a younger woman, who was to say your father wouldn’t do the same? (201)

▪ All your life you’ve heard about how awful you’ve been to Annabelle, the pretty, sweet, perfect daughter. The only one Honey and Stephen ever wanted. (218)

▪ “They’ll know when you lost your first tooth, your social security number, whether you have a drinking problem or an STD. These people are ruthless.” (245)