I can’t tell you when this became a (largely) annual thing for me to post, but it was on a blog that pre-existed this one. As always, seems like a good day to post it.
Category: M-R Page 2 of 10
Series M-R
Madam Tulip and the Rainbow’s End
by David Ahern
DETAILS: Series: Madam Tulip, #5 Publisher: Malin Press Publication Date: March 1, 2022 Format: eARC Length: 274 pgs. Read Date: March 5-8, 2022
Yeah, okay, the post title is pretty lame. It’s the best I can come up with. Let’s move past that, okay?
What’s Madam Tulip and the Rainbow’s End About?
Thanks to a series of events that probably rings true for many struggling actors, Derry and Bruce find themselves stranded by the touring company they’d been a part of without funds and a pretty hefty hotel/bar tab. One thing leads to another, and Derry finds herself suiting up as Madam Tulip to do some fortune-telling at a charity event to work off this debt.
She’s happy to do that for a few reasons—it seems that Derry’s trying to cut back on her Tulip work, and really only does it for charities anymore. This time, she can do it for her own benefit and a charity, so she’s okay with that.
As she’s wont to do, as Madam Tulip she befriends a couple of women—one local, and one fellow American (who turns out to employ the local woman). Both women have recently had family members die, and are still grieving. The local woman comes to Madam Tulip for confirmation of her suspicion that her brother was murdered—which Tulip gave her without realizing it. The other woman’s father was supposed to leave her a large amount of money, but didn’t—her focus isn’t on the money as much as it is on understanding what happened (which makes it so much easier to like her).
Having confirmation of her brother’s murder, Mary Jo sets out to prove it and find the murderer—Derry’s friend, Bruce, is going to prove more useful than his psychic bestie on this front and is happy to try. Being able to look at things more objectively, Derry’s able to suggest a thing or two to Lena that might help her find the closure she needs.
Given the nature of a cozy mystery novel, obviously, it won’t be long until Derry finds herself more caught up in the efforts of both women to get the answers they seek—and a little more peril than any three of them expected.*
* Although by this point, Derry should know better—even without any psychic abilities..
Derry’s Gift
Derry’s abilities that stem from being the daughter of a seventh son of a seventh son have gotten her into (and out of) plenty of trouble in the past few books—but they’re never enough by themselves. Derry’s got to figure things out and take advantage of the information she gains—and frequently needs an assist from Bruce for those things that those abilities can’t cover.
This time out, she doesn’t get to take advantage of that gift too much—there are a couple of tarot readings that help her friends (and maybe some of the other readings she does in between those, but we don’t see them). But that’s pretty much it—the rest comes from Derry putting on her metaphorical deerstalker and sussing things out for herself (talking things over with Bruce helps, too).
I think I like it better this way—Derry’s never used her psychic (or whatever) capabilities as a crutch to get to the bottom of things. But the further she gets from that, the better for me.
(although, I can’t imagine I’d complain too loudly if Book 6 or 7 has Derry acting more like Jean Grey/Professor X than Jessica Fletcher)
Jacko Off-the-Grid
You can’t have a Madam Tulip novel without Derry’s father, Jacko, turning up to make things interesting. This time, fresh off a new variety of financial woes (for him, anyway), he decides to rent out his home and go live on an isolated island for a while—to reconnect with his art and avoid the distractions of technology and the city.
Neither Derry nor her mother have a lot of faith that this is going to work too well. But Derry wants to give him the chance and refuses when her mother tries to enlist her to stop him.
In the end, Jacko’s storyline brushes up against Derry’s in a few places, but in more of a “what a small world” kind of way. The two barely interact with each other, and Jacko’s never part of the main action. This is a good use of the character, who is prone to taking over the books (in an entertaining way, but a bit too dominant). Here he gets to go full-on with his antics without impacting the main story—that’s perfect.
So, what did I think about Madam Tulip and the Rainbow’s End?
At this point, getting a Madam Tulip book is a chance to spend time with some friends—with all the warmth, comfort, and pleasantness that comparison brings to mind. Ahern’s got his world and characters down pat now, and the novel moves like clockwork.
This isn’t the same old-same old by any means, however. As he mentioned in our Q&A about this book, Derry not only has to solve a crime this time but there’s a puzzle, too.
Madam Tulip and the Rainbow’s End gives you everything you want in a cozy mystery—good characters, a grin or two, a clever mystery or two, a well-constructed story, and a diverting read for a couple of hours. As expected from this series/author, I’m glad to recommend it to you.
I know Madam Tulip #6 is on the way, and I’m looking forward to it—and hopefully, several more before people in Ireland figure out that they need to stop inviting the fortune teller to their events if they want things to go smoothly (especially nefarious things).
Disclaimer: I received this eARC from the author in exchange for this post. I thank him for that, but the opinions expressed are mine.
The fifth Madam Tulip—Madam Tulip and the Rainbow’s End—book came out two weeks ago, and I’ve somehow conned the author, David Ahern, to come back for his third Q&A with me. I’ll try to get my post about the book up in a couple of hours, but until then, enjoy Ahern’s As to my Qs. And maybe go check out his website and the books if you haven’t yet.
Madam Tulip’s back for her fifth adventure, you’ve said all along that this was intended as a series—did you see it going this long originally? Have the characters/mysteries developed the way you initially imagined, or have they taken on directions you didn’t expect?
I did envisage five books, but only if I could make each as good or better than the last. I’ll be honest, I hadn’t a clue how the characters would develop. They’ve gone their own way, and I just tag along. They’re wandering into book #6 just now.
On the craft side of writing—looking back over these five books (plus whatever drafts you have in progress), can you see the difference in your own writing? Would you say you’re a better writer now, or (as I’ve heard others say) are you finding new and exciting mistakes to make?
If I wasn’t learning something with every book, I’d quit. Writing by numbers, never trying anything new, would make writing too boring for me. On the other hand, getting out of the comfort zone is risky. With ‘the Rainbow’s End,’ I thought more than once I might not be able to pull off what I was trying to do. The story has both a mystery and a puzzle running in parallel. Neither should weaken the other, and they have to synch neatly at the end. Technically a tall order, but I knew if it worked it would be a great read. And when you do pull off a craft challenge and everything clicks, you know it, and that’s satisfying.
While the MadamTulip books aren’t really “humor” per se, there’s a lot of comic moments throughout them. One of the things I’ve been thinking about lately is how authors strike the balance between comedy and the serious matters being depicted in their stories. How do you approach this idea? Also, is that something that’s there from the first draft onwards? Or is that something you address in one of your re-writes? On a related note: when you read for pleasure, what do you gravitate toward—the comedic or the serious/dark?
On the technical side, mixing humor and serious material does have to be managed carefully, but it’s more instinctive with me than thought through. I never have to redraft for taste reasons, only for pace. Good mysteries are very moral books and crime isn’t funny. Folly is where the comedy lives, and that’s ok.
I’ve always loved comic writing. Thurber, Wodehouse, our own Flann O’Brien, Douglas Adams – I adore them. Most of my reading these days is non-fiction, especially history, and almost all of my TV work when I used to produce documentaries was on subjects that don’t leave much room for cheer. Humor is a great relief from all of that. I’ve pretty well given up reading dark fiction, especially anything with graphic violence. Having said that, I’m reading Alexander Pope’s translation of Homer’s Illiad right now, and the thing is one long catalogue of brilliantly described homicides. I should stop reading it but I can’t. That boy Homer has talent and may have a future.
Not only do you have to come up with new settings and mysteries for Derry to stumble into for each book, you have to come up with a storyline for her father, Jacko. Which idea is harder to plan: his escapades or Derry’s? The first time we did a Q&A, you said your grandfather inspired Jacko—are you still drawing on your memories of him?
Derry’s adventures are by far the most demanding, because they’re both mystery and thriller. Jacko’s scrapes seem to arrive of their own accord, though I do like them to share something of the same drivers as the main story. In ‘the Rainbow’s End,’ everybody is chasing some dream, and Jacko is no exception.
Yes, my old granda is still in my thoughts. He had the wonderful quality of relishing life with an infectious enthusiasm. He always had a plan, usually none too practical. My mother lately reminded me that when he left the Irish Army (he was a sergeant several times), he spent his gratuity payout on a piano he could hardly play and a stuffed alligator that cluttered up the hallway for years. I guess he just liked the idea at the time.
We’ve also talked about Bruce before—Derry’s ex-Navy SEAL friend who she can pal around with, and who provides the physical prowess she occasionally has to have to stay alive. He’s such a great character, have you considered a novel/short story focused on him alone?
To be honest, I haven’t thought of a way to do that. Although the Tulip stories are unlikely in the way all amateur sleuth stories are, I keep them psychologically very realistic. Bruce uses his acting vocation to help cope with the more troubling things from his history in the service. That works for him, and no big deal is made about it. But if he were the main character, keeping him realistic without veering into the darker side would be impossible and not the Bruce we know now. In the life he has in the Tulip stories, he’s just himself. There’s something charmingly unreflective about him that in a main character could veer into a cartoon.
What’s next for David Ahern, author?
Another Madam Tulip. She’s not finished with me yet.
That sounds like a win for me! Thanks for your time—and thanks for Madam Tulip and the Rainbow’s End and I hope you have plenty of success with it.
Thanks, H.C. A pleasure talking to you as always.
Finally, we’re at the end of my 2021 wrap-up, it feels like I’ve been at this for a month. I really need to get faster at this.
38% of what I read last year falls into the category of “Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller,” so I have to consider it apart from everything else when I put together my Best-Of Lists, or just about everything else would get ignored. Even if I went with a Top 15-20 instead of a Favorite 10, maybe 2-3 books from the previous lists would’ve made it along with all of these (and a couple that just missed this list).
Once again, I’ll note that I limit my lists to things I read for the first time. I’d be willing to guarantee anyone reading this page will enjoy at least 6 of these (which six will vary from reader to reader, however). I’m tempted to say that all the listed books are guaranteed for everyone, but people’s tastes are too varied, so I’ll hedge my bet. Try these, and you’ll be glad you did.
(in alphabetical order by author)
Born in a Burial Gown
by M. W. Craven
My original post
Should I just start calling this list An M. W. Craven Novel and 9 Others I Loved Last Year? This just narrowly beat out the latest Poe/Tilly for this spot. This novel introduces a very damaged detective trying to prove that he deserves to be where he is (and his team does, too). DI Fluke is a great character—well, they all are. The prose just sings, the novel’s well-paced and cleverly put together. The killer, the motive, the victim, the reveals (both in the way they were handled and what was revealed), the fairly satisfying (by design) ending, the sweet and then very satisfying denouement—and anything else I didn’t mention—it’s all just as good as you could hope for.
Gated Prey
by Lee Goldberg
My original post
It was only after I narrowed down this list that I realized that Eve Ronin showed up on last year’s list, too. I clearly have a thing for this series. Eve is still learning how to be a detective while making headlines by being involved in high-profile cases. This book mixes observations about celebrity culture, a couple of great mysteries, continued problems in the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department, and Eve (once again) failing to balance work and life (or at least work and health). Rookie detectives aren’t the typical focus of a series, but really should be (at least if this series is any indication)
The Appeal
My original post
The reader is on the same level with the characters who are trying to solve things in this epistolary mystery—we get to read the evidence at the same time as the trainee lawyers that we focus on do. That alone makes this an inventive read. Then Hallett adds in a fantastic cast of characters involved in a small town’s local community theater and a crowd-funding effort for a small child’s cancer treatment. You start out knowing something criminal happened, and gradually start to figure out what the crime was and how it involves those characters. It’s a truly inventive way to tell this kind of story and a great story. It’s the kind of book that’s easy to overhype as you talk about it, so I’m shutting up now.
August Snow
My original post
Readers here know that one of my greatest weaknesses is a good P.I. novel, and “discovering” August Snow was just a treat for me. There’s something about this book—one of those ineffable things that just sang to me—that reminded me of the first time I read a Dennis Lehane Kenzie and Gennaro book, or Joe Ide’s I.Q., or Crais’ Elvis Cole. There’s something just so right—so absolutely classic P.I. and incredibly fresh about the voice—that I felt at home.
From an atypical beginning with the prospective client that ends up without anyone being hired, through the morass of financial crimes and murder, to the explosive ending—with the increasing sense of dread and apprehension of an ensuring emotional gut-punch—August Snow is a fantastic series debut, that would be an equally fantastic tenth novel in a series. It’s fantastic, period.
Love & Bullets: Megabomb Edition
My original post
This is technically a violation of my “only new to me” books, Kolakowski took his three Love and Bullets novellas and added a little new material to turn them into a novel. I found the experience different enough reading them as a novel, that I’m going with it. It’s just a blast to read. I had fun with every novel on this list, but for sheer entertainment value, I think this one tops the rest.
Love & Bullets is a fast-moving thrill ride. It’s funny. It has occasional moments of sweetness (very transient). The story and characters are visceral—you can see the action, you can practically hear Bill’s quips and feel Fiona’s patience evaporating at them (while she does love him for them). It will get a much-beloved (or much-disparaged) band’s music stuck in your head during one fight scene. Really, it covers almost all the senses—and given where they spend a lot of time, you’ll be glad it leaves the other two out.
The Jigsaw Man
My original post
DI Anjelica Henley is your typical detective so focused on the job that everything else in their life is a tertiary concern at best, she makes horrible choices in her personal life, and seems to make enemies wherever she goes. One such enemy is a serial killer she put away some time ago, but then new bodies start showing up that look like the work of that killer. Did she put the wrong man away? Is this a copycat? Or something worse? The Jigsaw Man is a dark, unsettling read—there are two pages toward the end that may be the most disturbing pages I’ve ever read. And yet…there’s something very appealing about the novel—it’s gripping and compelling, it’s also entertaining. The pacing was perfect. The characters were well-drawn and felt fresh. It’s the kind of book that makes you ignore responsibilities–and possibly food and hygiene–or at least want to until you finish.
The Curious Dispatch of Daniel Costello
My original post
(really this spot belongs to all Series: The Stonebridge Mysteries, but we’ll use this as a synecdoche (or did I mean metonym? I’m can’t remember)). I’ve been calling this a Cozy for People Who Don’t Like Cozies. It’s about a pair of guys in their twenties, trying to figure out their lives. They’ve spent too much time watching Sherlock and the like, and when one of them discovers a dead body at a wedding they’re attending, they take it upon themselves to solve the murder. Which leads to them doing that again in a few months—and again, and again. They really don’t have any business doing this kind of thing, but it turns out that they have a knack for it. This novella (and those that follow) is a quick burst of fun—a witty whodunit with a couple of unlikely amateurs on the case.
Suburban Dicks
My original post
A disgraced journalist struggling to find some sort of professional redemption (not to mention a better paycheck) and a pregnant mother of four (who gave up her lifelong dream of being an FBI profiler to raise a family) pair up to investigate their suburb’s first murder in decades because the police department just isn’t up for it (assuming they’re not too crooked to do the job right). You get a great mix of dark comedy, social commentary, and clever mystery as the pair unearth secrets that have been buried for generations on their way to solve the murder of a gas station attendant. From the great opening scene to the fantastic last line (probably the best I read last year), and all points between, this was easily one of my top reads of the year.
Dead Secret
My original post
Like Eve Ronin (above), DC Maggie Jamieson, is driving herself to exhaustion. She’s just that driven. This book features Maggie and the rest of the team on the hunt for a killer and trying to find (hopefully in time) their missing DCI, which means no downtime for Maggie or anyone else. You’ve got a pretty grizzly beating death to start off with and then you the police’s natural inclination to focus all resources on the missing DCI. Just those two storylines would be enough. But then Holten throws in a third storyline—a person in desperate need of help, a survivor of (as far as anyone can tell) of domestic violence—a reminder that policing isn’t about arrests, it isn’t about only maintaining social order—it’s about people like this woman who showed at Lucy’s front door, it’s protecting and serving the public. This is the kind of thing that both (fictional and real) civilians and the (fictional and real) police need to be reminded of, and here it elevates the rest of the novel by its presence.
The Thursday Murder Club
My original post
What can I possibly say about this that hasn’t been said before? This book is just great—it’s about a group of friends in a retirement community who spend a few hours a week looking over police cold cases (one of the group is a retired police officer, and these are her files) and then a murder happens in their community. They trade in their cold cases for this very warm one right away. I can’t think of a thing about this novel I didn’t like—it was touching, amusing, honest about the circumstances that these characters found themselves in, but life-affirming, too. There’s a lot of profundity mixed in with the amusement—and a clever mystery, to boot! This is not one to pass up.
Finally…I’d hoped to get this posted no later than November 17th. But every time I started writing something, I ended up overthinking or was distracted. I’m not sure the end result is that coherent, but…it’s finished. I can live with that.
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The Dark Hoursby Michael Connelly Hardcover, 388 pg. Read: November 12-15, 2021 |
It was like a bag of popcorn cooking in a microwave. A few pops during the final countdown of the year and then the barrage as the frequency of gunfire made it impossible to separate it into individual discharges. A gunshot symphony. For a solid five minutes, there was an unbroken onslaught as revelers of the new year fired their weapons into the sky following a Los Angeles tradition of decades.
It didn’t matter that what goes up must come down. Every new year in the City of Angels began with risk.
The gunfire of course was joined by legitimate fireworks and firecrackers, creating a sound unique to the city and as reliable through the years as the changing of the calendar.
What’s The Dark Hours About?
It opens on December 31, 2020—Renée Ballard and a fellow detective are partnered up for the night—it’s a kind of all-hands-on-deck kind of night. These two are also part of a team on the trail of a pair of serial rapists that they’re calling the Midnight Men.
But on this night, they’re called out to a shooting death. Ballard’s role is to be the initial investigator and then pass off the case to the homicide detectives after the weekend—but she’s hoping she can keep it longer (their work on a different case could allow for that). There’s a match for the bullet—the same gun was used in an old unsolved case, investigated by Harry Bosch.*
Isn’t it always reassuring to see that no matter what kind of super cop he is, there are cases that Bosch couldn’t close?
The two put their heads together and quickly find a new angle for Bosch’s case as well as a promising line of investigation for Ballard’s.
Meanwhile, the Midnight Men strike again, and this time, there’s something a little different that Ballard picks up. A string she starts pulling that proves to be instrumental.
With Bosch to bounce her ideas off of, as well as a backup she can trust, Ballard gets her chance, once again, to bring a little light to the dark hours of the night.
Bosch
While this is by and large a Renée Ballard book, there’s enough about Harry Bosch to keep a fan satisfied. He’s doing okay with his medical condition, Maddie’s well (and is dating someone, so isn’t spending as much time with Bosch), he’s pretty much holed-up during COVID, studying old case files.
Not at all-surprisingly, when Renée’s path crosses with his, he’s ready to jump into action. Sure, he always is, but add in a lockdown-induced cabin fever? It’s a wonder that Harry wasn’t calling his mentee daily to see if she needed help with anything (although it’s clear that the two have kept in touch).
In the past, the pair have done a better job of keeping Harry’s involvement under the radar, but between Bosch’s Cabin Fever, Ballard’s need to make fast progress on the cases, and her lack of trust for any other detective at the moment they throw that out the window. Which does come back to bite Ballard (as it should).
The 2021-ness of It
… this was the new LAPD—officers stripped of the mandate of proactive enforcement and waiting to be reactive, to hit the streets only when it was requested and required, and only then doing the minimum so as not to engender a complaint or controversy.
To Ballard, much of the department had fallen into the pose of a citizen caught in the middle of a bank robbery. Head down, eyes averted, adhering to the warning: nobody move, and nobody gets hurt.
I don’t remember Connelly’s books being so obviously of the moment until last year’s The Law of Innocence which ended just as lockdowns were starting in California.
Connelly’s books have always felt contemporary—other mystery series might feel 5-10 years out of step, but not Connelly. Although, even the older books largely felt like they could’ve taken place a couple of years ago (except for the technology involved). But The Dark Hours has to be a 2021 novel—Ballard, Bosch, and the city are going through things that could only have happened after the protests of 2020 and the COVID-19 pandemic.
It makes things feel more immediate, but does it hurt readers in 5-10 years? Fair Warning, also published last year, could take place anytime after 2010 (maybe earlier). A lot of the other books felt timely to their context, but even now they don’t feel that dated. Will these?
I don’t know if this is a strength or a long-term weakness, but it is, as far as I can remember, a change.
However, seeing Renée having to adapt to COVID restrictions (no more living on the beach!) and struggling with the changes (temporary? long-lasting?) that the protests of Summer of 2020 about policing in America have brought to the LAPD is great to see. Connelly is able to show a department in flux, which can’t have been an easy tightrope to walk.
So, what did I think about The Dark Hours?
Ehhh…I’m not sure what to say here.
In the moment, while I was reading, it was typical Connelly—I was gripped, I was riveted, I couldn’t wait to see the murder solved. I was less invested in the rape case because once Ballard starts to get a little traction, once she starts to learn a little bit about these guys, I was repulsed. I really didn’t want to learn more—I just wanted them locked away—I even said something to a friend like “can’t we just get a quick, miraculous, resolution to this by page 180 and spend the rest of the book focusing on the murders?” Great job by Connelly creating some very horrible criminals, but I don’t want to spend time thinking about them.
But it’s not his best work—I’m not sure it’s not up to his par, even. The more I think about it, the more I’m bothered by parts of the story and storytelling. The Epilogue, by the way? It’s a scene from a TV show. Working on Bosch, Lincoln Lawyer, and Bosch: Legacy have impacted Connelly at least a little and it shows here.
I thought the stuff about the impact of COVID and the protests was fantastic—and you get no simple answers about the past/present/future of policing in LA. I’m just not sure the rest of the novel was as good as we’ve come to expect from Connelly (I’m open to being corrected by others who read it, though).
Good—but not good enough—I guess is my takeaway. Still, time with Bosch and Ballard? Always time well spent.
This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, opinions are my own.
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Dead Mercyby Noelle Holten eARC, 416 pg. Read: October 4-5, 2021 |
What’s Dead Mercy About?
The closing chapter of Dead Secret set this up (as Holten is so good about doing): a business has gone up in fire and a body has been found inside—possibly the body of someone Maggie’s worked with in Probation. From the start, this case has its hooks in Maggie.
It’s soon decided that the body was the source of the fire—and before the victim had been set ablaze, he’d been restrained and had teeth pulled. The killer had wanted to punish him, not just kill him.
Soon another victim is discovered—and the team has to race to find a connection so they can prevent anyone else from suffering this fate.
When the link is finally discovered, it suggests potential new victims as well as several suspects. It also shines a bright light on a striking failure of the criminal justice system.
Bethany and Kat
Back when I talked about Book 3, Dead Perfect, I wrote that they were overworking PC Bethany Lambert, “Miscellaneous errands, thankless tasks, things requiring technological expertise, and more fall to her. I lost track of how many things Maggie threw her way to do—on top of her own assignments. I have multiple notes about how they’re working this woman to death.” They’ve yet to let up on her—however, it’s talked about both as the way she likes to work and as something other people are concerned about. This is efficiently done—the characters around her get to be observant and sympathetic, and they can continue to throw too much work at her so Holten doesn’t have to create 2-3 more characters to keep the stories moving at that pace.
Dead Perfect was also where DC Kat Everett was added to the team—she’s better integrated into the action over the last couple of books now and I really enjoy her. I’m ready to read a spin-off series focusing on her now, either in her same assignment or transferred somewhere. Her brashness would make for a fun protagonist (not that Maggie isn’t brash, but hers is a side-effect of her impetuousness).
A Refreshing Approach
With most police procedurals you get the maverick, lone-wolf detective—maybe with a couple of people they trust. Or (particularly with UK-based procedurals), you get a focus on a detective squad. With the Maggie Jamieson books, we get a good look at her squad, probation services, and other social services.
Not just as a drop-in for a convenient bit of information, either. But characters that matter, there’s interconnectedness between the groups and it’s good to see the flow of information (formally, informally, unauthorized) informing the investigations. I like seeing that approach, and I like to think it reflects reality far more than any lone-wolf thumbing their nose at regulations.
Although, the pathologist still seeming to hold a grudge over one of her staff being (justifiably) questioned a while back seems to be petty. Which, so it’s not all super-professional and mutually helpful.
Let’s Hope This Is Fiction
Not every author spends too much time on the motivation behind the killings, but an author that gives a believable motivation separates their work from the pack. This is another of those areas that Holten excels in.
Yes, this is a work of fiction. Yes, things are heightened. But when you read this, there’s going to be a voice in the back of your head saying, “I could see that happening.”
Not only that, there’s a pretty good chance that you’re going to be a little conflicted about the crimes. Odds are, you’re not going to be hoping that Maggie and her team fail, or that the killer (killers?) gets away with it. Buuuut…once you understand the motive pushing the killer(s), you may not feel that bad about what happens to the victims.
So, what did I think about Dead Mercy?
Holten’s got this down now—the characters and world are well established, as are the relationships in them. Despite the relatively brief chronology between books 1-5, there’s been some decent character growth on several points, too. So a new Maggie Jamieson thriller is a chance to spend some time catching up with new acquaintances while getting to go for a pretty intense ride as those acquaintances try to stop a brutal killer.
Okay, maybe that’s not the ideal way to catch up and check in on anyone, but it’s a pretty exciting read.
Crime Reads had that piece a couple of weeks ago discussing “all crime is cyber crime,” which was ringing in my ears as I read this. This very visceral series of murders is evidence to support that thesis—cyber-policing wasn’t enough to stop the series, either, but it played its part. Holten’s always been good at balancing the computer-work and the boots-on-the-ground policing but might have outdone herself here.
The accent does fall on the physical world, of course, given the nature of the crimes. If your stomach doesn’t church a little at the description of the murders (likely both as they’re happening and as the pathologist breaks them down), you’re made of pretty stern stuff. Thankfully, Holten’s narration doesn’t ever seem to relish in the disturbing details as too many do.
Basically, this is a top-notch thriller with a lot for the reader to chew on as they’re burning through the pages.
It does appear that this is going to be the last Maggie Jamieson book–at least for a while. I’m hoping it’s just a break, and we get back to Maggie and the rest of the Major and Organised Crime Department soon. If not? These five books are a great set and I (again) strongly recommend them to you.
Disclaimer: I received this eARC from HarperCollins UK via NetGalley in exchange for this post — thanks to both for this.
My annual tribute to one of my favorite fictional characters (if not my all-time favorite). I’ve got to do an overhaul to this soon, but it is slightly updated and tweaked from last year.
On Oct. 23* in Chillicothe, Ohio, Archie Goodwin entered this world—no doubt with a smile for the pretty nurses—and American detective literature was never the same. He’s the narrator (and, I’d argue protagonist) of the questionably named Nero Wolfe mysteries. While the eccentric and overweight genius might be what brings people to the series, it’s Archie’s wit, attitude, and snappy narrative voice that brings people’s back.
* About 34 years ago, no matter what year it is that you read this.
When my aunt first gave me a Nero Wolfe book to read, she sold me on the Wolfe character, but when I read it, I wasn’t so sure that I liked the guy. But his assistant? He was cool. Sure, it didn’t take me long to get into Wolfe, but Archie’s always been my favorite. Since I was in Middle School, if I was suffering a slump of any kind (reading, emotional, physical), time with Archie Goodwin could get me out of it. There were a few years that when I got sick, I’d grab a Nero Wolfe novel to help me get through it (along with the Vitamin C and Chicken Noodle soup), and you can’t tell me it didn’t work. Noted critic Jacques Barzun says it well:
If he had done nothing more than to create Archie Goodwin, Rex Stout would deserve the gratitude of whatever assessors watch over the prosperity of American literature. For surely Archie is one of the folk heroes in which the modern American temper can see itself transfigured. Archie is the lineal descendant of Huck Finn.
While Archie’s about as far from a teetotaler as you can get, to commemorate his birthday, I’m toasting him in one of the ways I think he’d appreciate most—by raising a glass of milk in his honor.
Who was Archie? Archie summed up his life like this:
Born in Ohio. Public high school, pretty good at geometry and football, graduated with honor but no honors. Went to college two weeks, decided it was childish, came to New York and got a job guarding a pier, shot and killed two men and was fired, was recommended to Nero Wolfe for a chore he wanted done, did it, was offered a full-time job by Mr. Wolfe, took it, still have it.” (Fourth of July Picnic)
Long may he keep it. Just what was he employed by Wolfe to do? In The Black Mountain he answers the statement, “I thought you was a private eye” with:
I don’t like the way you say it, but I am. Also, I am an accountant, an amanuensis, and a cocklebur. Eight to five you never heard the word amanuensis and you never saw a cocklebur.
In The Red Box, he says
I know pretty well what my field is. Aside from my primary function as the thorn in the seat of Wolfe’s chair to keep him from going to sleep and waking up only for meals, I’m chiefly cut out for two things: to jump and grab something before the other guy can get his paws on it, and to collect pieces of the puzzle for Wolfe to work on.
In Too Many Women, he’s a bit more concise and describes himself as the:
heart, liver, lungs and gizzard of the private detective business of Nero Wolfe, Wolfe being merely the brains
In Black Orchids, he reacts to an insult:
…her cheap crack about me being a ten-cent Clark Gable, which was ridiculous. He simpers, to begin with, and to end with no one can say I resemble a movie actor, and if they did it would be more apt to be Gary Cooper than Clark Gable.
Over at The Thrilling Detective, he’s described this way:
If Goodwin hadn’t gone to work for Wolfe, he’d certainly have his own agency by now (and temporarily does, in one novel). Far more of the traditional eye, Goodwin is a tough, handsome guy with a photographic memory, a .32 under his well-tailored suit (and sometimes an extra .38 in his overcoat pocket), and a well-developed appreciation for the ladies. And, in the opinion of more than a few cops, officials and stuffed-shirt executives, a mouth that ought to be nailed shut permanently. (Wolfe isn’t immune either – part of Goodwin’s job, as he sees it, is needling the fat man into taking cases, if only to make sure the bills get covered.) He’s not the deductive genius that Wolfe is, but a smart and tenacious op with a good right hook, and a decent and personable man. Most of all, in his narration of the books, he’s a helluva storyteller; it’s his view of the world, and his interaction with Wolfe, that keeps us coming back for each new mystery.
The Archie Goodwin FAQ is less succinct but does a good job of laying out the facts.
I’m not the only Archie fan out there:
- Someone pointed me at this post, The Wit and Wisdom of Archie Goodwin. There’s some really good stuff here that I was tempted to steal, instead, I’ll just point you at it.
- Robert Crais himself when writing an introduction to a Before Midnight reprint, devoted it to paying tribute to Archie—one of the few pieces of anything written that I can say I agree with jot and tittle.
In case you’re wondering if this post was simply an excuse to go through some collections of Archie Goodwin quotations, you wouldn’t be totally wrong…he’s one of the fictional characters I like spending time with most in this world—he’s the literary equivalent of comfort food. So just a couple more great lines I’ve quoted here before:
I would appreciate it if they would call a halt on all their devoted efforts to find a way to abolish war or eliminate disease or run trains with atoms or extend the span of human life to a couple of centuries, and everybody concentrate for a while on how to wake me up in the morning without my resenting it. It may be that a bevy of beautiful maidens in pure silk yellow very sheer gowns, barefooted, singing “Oh, What a Beautiful Morning” and scattering rose petals over me would do the trick, but I’d have to try it.
I looked at the wall clock. It said two minutes to four. I looked at my wrist watch. It said one minute to four. In spite of the discrepancy, it seemed safe to conclude that it would soon be four o’clock.
Description:I shook my head. “You’re flattering me, Inspector. I don’t arouse passions like that. It’s my intellect women like. I inspire them to read good books, but I doubt if I could inspire even Lizzie Borden to murder.”
She turned back to me, graceful as a big cat, and stood there straight and proud, not quite smiling, her warm dark eyes as curious as if she had never seen a man before. I knew damn well I ought to say something, but what? The only thing to say was ‘Will you marry me?’ but that wouldn’t do because the idea of her washing dishes or darning socks was preposterous.
“Indeed,” I said. That was Nero Wolfe’s word, and I never used it except in moments of stress, and it severely annoyed me when I caught myself using it, because when I look in a mirror I prefer to see me as is, with no skin grafted from anybody else’s hide, even Nero Wolfe’s.
If you like Anglo-Saxon, I belched. If you fancy Latin, I eructed. No matter which, I had known that Wolfe and Inspector Cramer would have to put up with it that evening, because that is always a part of my reaction to sauerkraut. I don’t glory in it or go for a record, but neither do I fight it back. I want to be liked just for myself.
When a hippopotamus is peevish it’s a lot of peeve.
It was nothing new for Wolfe to take steps, either on his own, or with one or more of the operatives we used, without burdening my mind with it. His stated reason was that I worked better if I thought it all depended on me. His actual reason was that he loved to have a curtain go up revealing him balancing a live seal on his nose.
It helps a lot, with two people as much together as he and I were, if they understand each other. He understood that I was too strong-minded to add another word unless he told me to, and I understood that he was too pigheaded to tell me to.
I always belong wherever I am.
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Dead Mercyby Noelle Holten eARC, 416 pg. Read: October 4-5, 2021 |
What’s Dead Mercy About?
The closing chapter of Dead Secret set this up (as Holten is so good about doing): a business has gone up in fire and a body has been found inside—possibly the body of someone Maggie’s worked with in Probation. From the start, this case has its hooks in Maggie.
It’s soon decided that the body was the source of the fire—and before the victim had been set ablaze, he’d been restrained and had teeth pulled. The killer had wanted to punish him, not just kill him.
Soon another victim is discovered—and the team has to race to find a connection so they can prevent anyone else from suffering this fate.
When the link is finally discovered, it suggests potential new victims as well as several suspects. It also shines a bright light on a striking failure of the criminal justice system.
Bethany and Kat
Back when I talked about Book 3, Dead Perfect, I wrote that they were overworking PC Bethany Lambert, “Miscellaneous errands, thankless tasks, things requiring technological expertise, and more fall to her. I lost track of how many things Maggie threw her way to do—on top of her own assignments. I have multiple notes about how they’re working this woman to death.” They’ve yet to let up on her—however, it’s talked about both as the way she likes to work and as something other people are concerned about. This is efficiently done—the characters around her get to be observant and sympathetic, and they can continue to throw too much work at her so Holten doesn’t have to create 2-3 more characters to keep the stories moving at that pace.
Dead Perfect was also where DC Kat Everett was added to the team—she’s better integrated into the action over the last couple of books now and I really enjoy her. I’m ready to read a spin-off series focusing on her now, either in her same assignment or transferred somewhere. Her brashness would make for a fun protagonist (not that Maggie isn’t brash, but hers is a side-effect of her impetuousness).
A Refreshing Approach
With most police procedurals you get the maverick, lone-wolf detective—maybe with a couple of people they trust. Or (particularly with UK-based procedurals), you get a focus on a detective squad. With the Maggie Jamieson books, we get a good look at her squad, probation services, and other social services.
Not just as a drop-in for a convenient bit of information, either. But characters that matter, there’s interconnectedness between the groups and it’s good to see the flow of information (formally, informally, unauthorized) informing the investigations. I like seeing that approach, and I like to think it reflects reality far more than any lone-wolf thumbing their nose at regulations.
Although, the pathologist still seeming to hold a grudge over one of her staff being (justifiably) questioned a while back seems to be petty. Which, so it’s not all super-professional and mutually helpful.
Let’s Hope This Is Fiction
Not every author spends too much time on the motivation behind the killings, but an author that gives a believable motivation separates their work from the pack. This is another of those areas that Holten excels in.
Yes, this is a work of fiction. Yes, things are heightened. But when you read this, there’s going to be a voice in the back of your head saying, “I could see that happening.”
Not only that, there’s a pretty good chance that you’re going to be a little conflicted about the crimes. Odds are, you’re not going to be hoping that Maggie and her team fail, or that the killer (killers?) gets away with it. Buuuut…once you understand the motive pushing the killer(s), you may not feel that bad about what happens to the victims.
So, what did I think about Dead Mercy?
Holten’s got this down now—the characters and world are well established, as are the relationships in them. Despite the relatively brief chronology between books 1-5, there’s been some decent character growth on several points, too. So a new Maggie Jamieson thriller is a chance to spend some time catching up with new acquaintances while getting to go for a pretty intense ride as those acquaintances try to stop a brutal killer.
Okay, maybe that’s not the ideal way to catch up and check in on anyone, but it’s a pretty exciting read.
Crime Reads had that piece a couple of weeks ago discussing “all crime is cyber crime,” which was ringing in my ears as I read this. This very visceral series of murders is evidence to support that thesis—cyber-policing wasn’t enough to stop the series, either, but it played its part. Holten’s always been good at balancing the computer-work and the boots-on-the-ground policing but might have outdone herself here.
The accent does fall on the physical world, of course, given the nature of the crimes. If your stomach doesn’t church a little at the description of the murders (likely both as they’re happening and as the pathologist breaks them down), you’re made of pretty stern stuff. Thankfully, Holten’s narration doesn’t ever seem to relish in the disturbing details as too many do.
Basically, this is a top-notch thriller with a lot for the reader to chew on as they’re burning through the pages.
It does appear that this is going to be the last Maggie Jamieson book–at least for a while. I’m hoping it’s just a break, and we get back to Maggie and the rest of the Major and Organised Crime Department soon. If not? These five books are a great set and I (again) strongly recommend them to you.
Disclaimer: I received this eARC from HarperCollins UK via NetGalley in exchange for this post — thanks to both for this.
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Tear It Downby Nick Petrie Hardcover, 368 pg. Read: October 9-11, 2021 |
Outside, the air was thick and threatening rain. Spring in Tennessee. Peter strode across the wide concrete apron toward the road.
Go to Memphis, June had said. Eat some barbecue, listen to music, have some fun.
So far there had been no barbecue and no music.
Was it wrong that he might be having fun?
What’s Tear It Down About?
Peter’s been recuperating and rehabbing from his injuries from Light It Up at June’s—he’s about as recovered as he can be and is spending his time doing some upkeep and repairs on some of the buildings. But being in one place for so long is getting to him. He doesn’t see it, but June does.
June has a friend, Nadine, in Memphis. She’s a photographer who’s done a few tours in Iraq and Afghanistan, embedded with various groups. She’s back home in Memphis and has recently purchased a house at auction. Since then, she’s been harassed and could use some help. So June sends Peter off to lend a hand.
The morning before he arrives at Nadine’s, someone had driven a dump truck through the front of her house and then ran off. The truck is still there, which is what’s keeping some of the walls from falling. Clearly, he’s got his work cut out for him.
The work gets complicated the next day when Peter’s carjacked. No, really. A teenager with a pistol sticks Peter up, stealing his truck (with all his tools, food, and weapons) in the back. Peter likely could’ve stopped him, but chooses to let the kid get away with it for some pretty good reasons.
So now, he has to try to stop further attacks on Nadine, help her rebuild the house that she’s determined not to leave, and get his truck back. Oh, and immediately following the carjacking, Peter offended the drug lord who runs most of the crime in that part of Memphis—but you’ll want to read all that for yourself.
A Man Called Lewis
Lewis decides that Peter needs help (with a little input from June) and shows up just when things are getting hairy.
If I’ve noticed it before, I don’t remember—but Lewis here is essentially Robert B. Parker’s Hawk. There’s one conversation between Lewis and Peter that could’ve been lifted straight from a Hawk and Spenser conversation by Parker/Atkins, too.
It works, too, don’t get me wrong. I am kicking myself a little for not having seen it before, but I don’t think it was as strong—maybe that’s because of the themes/circumstances in this book that it stands out so much.
So, what did I think about Tear It Down?
There’s a significant racial component to the events and circumstances of this book. This added a little depth to the novel, it’s about more than people trying to get money and power, as is usual for these books. Sure, there’s money and power at the root of a lot of what’s going on here—but there’s a degree of hate that wasn’t around either.
There are also two characters who are just trying to survive in a world that seems hostile—and increasingly so—to them. They just need a break, a chance to do something, but it’s taken from them at every turn. The question for them is what they do in these circumstances—and what the results of their choices will be for those around them.
There is a significant toll on those who just happen to be near Peter and Lewis when things get ugly between them and those who are harassing Nadine. Peter notices this and it bothers him—it’s one thing in war for there to be collateral damage, but there was no reason for anyone injured (or worse) here to be in danger. It will be interesting to see if this experience has an impact on how he deals with things in the future.
This one had it all—great action, a compelling story, some good social commentary, and some time with characters I’m really growing attached to. Nick Petrie and Peter Ash continue to be a winning combination.
This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, opinions are my own.
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The Heathensby Ace Atkins Hardcover, 400 pg. Read: July 20-23, 2021 |
Tanya Jane Byrd, known to her friends as TJ, never gave a damn about being famous. But here she was, four days on the run from Tibbehah County, Mississippi, with that girl Chastity passing along the burner phone to show they now had more than a hundred thousand followers on Instagram. They only had six posts, the newest one from just two hours ago after TJ cut her hair boy short, dyed it black as a raven’s wing, and made her ultimatum to that cowardly son of 2 bitch Chester Pratt. She called him out for not only her mother’s murder but the money she and her little brother John Wesley were owed.
On the forty-five-second clip shot outside the Tri-State Motel in Texarkana, she held up her fist on the diving board to an empty pool and said, “Fair is fair,” remembering the line from one of her mothers old VHS tapes in the trailer.
“What do you think?” Chastity asked.
“I think I better drop that phone into the nearest creek.”
What’s The Heathens About?
Seventeen-year-old TJ Byrd has spent her life convinced that her father was killed by Tibbehah County’s Sherriff, the uncle of the current Sherriff. This has left her with a pretty jaded view of law enforcement. So when she’s suspected in the disappearance—and then the murder of her mother, it’s understandable that she doesn’t assume she’s going to get a fair shake from those that suspect her. So, she grabs her little brother and with her best friend and her boyfriend, they hit the road and run. They’re not sure where they’re driving to, but it’s far away from Tibbehah.
That’s maybe not the brightest move, but she’s desperate.
Former Deputy/now US Marshall, Lilly Virgil assumes that TJ killed her mother. Lilly has seen what happens when the two of them fight and assumes that TJ has gone one step too far. Lilly pulls some strings and gets herself assigned to the fugitive hunt for TJ and the rest.
Sheriff Quinn Colson isn’t that convinced of TJ’s guilt but would like to talk to her about what happened. With her on the run, he does some legwork on the case on his own—looking into her mother’s boyfriend, finances, and history. The more he finds, the less he’s convinced that TJ had anything to do with her death, he just needs to find enough evidence to convince Lilly.
Meanwhile, Johnny Stagg is at work greasing palms and making plans for the future—and what he has in mind will look entirely different than anything we’ve already seen from him. He’s also trying to get a father and son to join his team—they have a penchant for violence, and Stagg is pretty sure he’ll have some work for them.
TJ Byrd
…I’m real sorry, TJ. You’re too young to got through a mess like this.”
“My life’s been a mess since I was born,” TJ said. “Don’t shed a tear for me, Sheriff.”
TJ Byrd is one of those characters that you can sense that an author really enjoys writing, and it carries over to the reader—she’s just a blast to read about. I felt like I got a better sense of her than I have a couple of protagonists this year. I want to write a lot about her, but I won’t because I just don’t want to take away the joy of discovery from a reader. So let me just say that if you can see the joy in reading about a rebellious, stubborn, delinquent teenager on the run from the law because she’s suspected of the gruesome murder of her mother, you’re really going to have fun with her. If that kind of character doesn’t really seem like something you’d enjoy—give Atkins a chance to prove you wrong.
The only thing I do feel safe in saying is that Atkins made a great Spotify playlist based on the character, and it tells you a lot about her (and makes pretty good reading/writing music if you’re dragging a bit).
A New Side of Colson?
The little girl wide awake now, as Maggie wiped her face with a napkin and handed her over to Quinn. He held his daughter tight, the child’s eyes wide and unfocused. Halley so small, light in his lap, while she checked out all the smells and sounds of the Fillin’ Station diner.
“She sure is curious,” Maggie said.
“Skeptical,” Quinn said.
“I guess she comes by it naturally.”
Quinn’s been a great step-dad to Brandon—and was a good uncle to Jason. But it feels different now with Halley in the picture. It seems like Quinn’s going to be a good, involved dad (as much as his job allows). I got a real Joe Pickett-vibe off of a couple of passages with Quinn at home in this one. Which is good—Joe at home is the most appealing part of the character, so seeing Quinn in this light makes me look forward to seeing how he develops along these lines.
Mythology vs. “Monster of the Week”
It’s a little off-genre here, but when I was thinking about this novel and its relation to the rest of the series, I thought about The X-Files and Fringe. There were essentially two types of episodes for those series—”Mythology” episodes that advanced or at least explored the overarching story about the series, and “monster of the week” episodes that were pretty much about some freakish thing that was taken care of within one episode—and while nods might have been made towards the mythology, overall it was independent of that story.
The Heathens follows a major mythology novel, The Revelators that tied up storylines that went back to the beginning as well as some new ones. The Heathens takes a break from it, telling a largely stand-alone story. This is good, it gives readers a chance to catch their breath, it gives Atkins a chance to tell a different kind of story while beginning to set the stage for the next big mythology chapter.
That said, it’s not “mythology”-free. The “new, improved” Johnny Stagg (who will remind you a lot of the “old, corrupt” Johnny Stagg) starts making plans, giving readers a hint about the kind of misery that’s heading to Tibbehah County and Quinn’s life. And there are references to and advances on some of the ongoing subplots, but they’re not the focus of the novel.
Edging Toward a Spoiler In This Paragraph
I don’t like to think this—even about fictional characters—but there’s a character death that brought me just so much pleasure. I’m not going to ruin it, as much as I want to. Murdered Character is someone I find nothing redeemable about—Stagg, at least, is entertaining to read about/detest. But this one? Didn’t enjoy reading about them, was hoping never to see them again—but if Atkins is going to bring them back just so he can kill them off? That’s more than okay by me.
So, what did I think about The Heathens?
This is a great way to start phase 2 of the Quinn Colson series, taking a little breather from major arcs to focus on this story—one that Quinn and Lilly really play supporting roles in—is a nice break from the intensity of the last couple of novels.
It’s also a great place to come on board the series if you haven’t read any of it before.
Lilly and Quinn being on opposite sides of the case—not really working against each other but sure not helping each other too obviously—is another nice touch. There’s an honest difference of opinion, and on the whole, they treat each other like adults set out to get to the bottom of something, no matter their divergent positions when it comes to how to deal with TJ.
Especially in the Quinn Colson series, Atkins has a history of giving us solid plots, great characters, and something extra. That’s the same here, but it feels a little fresher, a little rejuvenated after The Heathens. Choosing to focus on a few kids from Tibbehah County, while Lilly and Quinn are closing in on the truth (and the teens) is a nice change of pace, too.
As much as I enjoy his Spenser novels, it’s these Quinn Colson books where Atkins can show the world what he’s capable of. This is no exception to the rule—do yourself a favor and pick this up.
This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, opinions are my own.