Category: Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller Page 124 of 153

The Case of the Missing Servant by Tarquin Hall

The Case of the Missing ServantThe Case of the Missing Servant: From the Files of Vish Puri, Most Private Investigator

by Tarquin Hall
Series: Vish Puri, #1
Trade Paperback, 295 pg.
Simon & Schuster, 2010
Read: December 2, 2015

Vish Puri is 50ish, pudgy (if not worse), culturally conservative, and easily impressed with himself. And, seemingly, a pretty decent Private Investigator. Unlike most P.I.’s in fiction, he’s not a lone wolf — and he doesn’t have one hyperviolent friend to back him up. He has a team — working for him, doing footwork, the tech stuff — that sort of thing. I wish we saw more of this in these kind of novels.

Anyway, Puri (known to his friends and family as “Chubby,” his employees as “Boss”) has two clients in this particular book — neither of which seems to appreciate the fact that he’s not the agency’s sole focus. One client — a retired army general of some prominence, wants a background check on his granddaughter’s fiancé — the wedding is weeks away and the general is sure something’s wrong with him.

The second client has a trickier case — he’s a lawyer with a track record of helping the lower classes and exploited, with an eye to environmental issues. A servant girl who had been working a few months for his family took off unexpectedly (with money owed her), but they didn’t really give it any thought. Months later, he’s being investigated (and, minor spoiler, but fairly obvious), and eventually charged with, her murder.

I know next to nothing about the Indian legal system, police workings, but a little more about the culture (let me stress the “little” there) — so this was all interesting and foreign to me. The widespread expectation — and acceptance — of corruption, bribery, and so on was pretty surprising. I realize that’s par for the course in some parts of the world, but for some reason, I didn’t think India would be one of those parts. The food, the economics, the convictions and conventions related to marriage, that sort of thing — yeah, I was prepared for that, just not the widespread bribery. Makes the Favor Bank in The Bonfire of the Vanities look like daycare.

There’s nothing for the reader to do with the background check case other than watch the way that the agency works — and the allies they utilize. There’s nothing really for the reader to pick up on to “solve” with the detective. But we do get to see the stealthy, quiet, un-hurried approach they take — despite the client’s expectations. Thankfully (for the way my brain works, anyway), there was plenty to chew on with the missing servant — and it was a pretty easy solution. But the way that Puri went about solving it, and the red herrings that were thrown in the way were well done and unique to this series and setting. I really appreciated the way this was constructed.

The narration has some fun at Puri’s expense — both directly, and though the thoughts of his employees and mother. He needs to diet, he’s prone to self-aggrandizement — but he’s good at his job, and that’s allowed to show forth, too. Beyond Puri, we don’t get to know anyone as a character really — little flashes of personality and backstory here and there, but nothing like a fully fleshed out character. But I don’t think that’s the kind of story that Hall is looking to tell here.

Amusing, clever, moved along nicely and was an interesting take on a culture I know nowhere near enough about — I’ll be back for another.

—–

3 Stars

Dry Bones by Craig Johnson

Dry BonesDry Bones

by Craig Johnson
Series: Walt Longmire, #11
Hardcover, 306 pg.
Viking, 2015

Read: December 5, 2015
So, possibly the largest Tyrannosaurus rex skeleton ever discovered is found in Wyoming (which is apparently a pretty good place to find them, who knew?), and there’s a battle brewing over who it (and the very large price tag that’ll surely be attached to it) belongs to. There’s enough drama there, but you don’t pick up a Walt Longmire novel for paleontological wrangling, you need a dead body or two. Thankfully, one shows up not too far away, and Walt’s old friend, Omar finds it.

Johnson’s pretty good at keeping several plates spinning, but this time he seems to have outdone himself — we’ve got a controversy over who gets custody over the T. Rex, with three different parties; a runaway; dealing with FBI and a Deputy U. S. Attorney looking to make a name for himself; Double Tough’s recovery from A Serpent’s Tooth; Vic’s continuing recovery from the same book; a visit from Cady and her daughter; oh, yeah, and the murder. About halfway through I actually stopped and wrote them all down, and asked myself “how’s he pulling this off?” I’m honestly not sure, but he did.

Which does mean he pulled it off flawlessly. It didn’t take too long to figure out where the Deputy Attorney story was going — aside from the running source of comedy. But honestly, I think we needed a couple more scenes to make it worthwhile. We got to see Lolo again — which was nice, but she didn’t get enough to do. Still, just glad to see she’s still in this world. I do think the skeleton controversy vanished a bit (understandably) in the middle, when I think it could’ve kept going.

But overall, this was a fun, quick ride, with Johnson (and Longmire) firing on all cylinders, and I can’t wait for the next one to see how the events of this book impact our friends going forward.

Oh no! I’m all caught up (other than the short story collection) with the Longmire books — whatever shall I do? Actually that’s a really good question, I’m going to miss my monthly visits to Absaroka County.

—–

4 Stars

Girl Waits with Gun by Amy Stewart

Girl Waits with GunGirl Waits with Gun

by Amy Stewart
Series: The Kopp Sisters, #1

Hardcover, 404 pg.
Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2015
Read: November 27 – 28, 2015

He looked up and said, in a loud, plain voice, “She’s not a regular lady.”

That line is uttered in the final few pages of this novel, but it does a pretty good job of summing up Constance Kopp (and her two sisters, too). Fitting, really, for “of one of the nation’s first female deputy sheriffs.”

It’s 1914. Constance, her older sister Norma, and much younger sister, Fleurette, live on a farm in Northern New Jersey. They’re out for a drive into town in a carriage when an automobile slams into the side. Everyone escapes fairly unscathed, but rattled. Well, the ladies are rattled, the driver of the car, Henry Kaufman, and his companions are annoyed that the Kopps had the temerity to be on the road, much less be struck by a car. Constance demands payment for repairs, but Kaufman brushes her off.

But Constance is persistent and begins to annoy Kaufman, who’s notorious for busting a strike the year before (and should be notorious for worse). And when Kaufman gets annoyed bad things happen — a campaign for intimidation begins against the sisters. Soon it becomes a battle of wills — Kaufman’s arrogance and pride vs. Constance’s gumption, stubbornness, and sense of right.

Constance soon learns of more of Kaufman’s crimes and abuses, meeting other victims — who warn her just how bad things can be. While she tries to withstand Kaufman’s assaults, she begins to try to help other victims. At the same time, she befriends the local sheriff, one of the rare lawmen in the area who aren’t beholden to Kaufman and his peers.

There’s a lightness to the writing, but the subject matter is grim — and frequently uncomfortable. Whether it’s the persecution of the sisters, Constance’s investigation into Kaufman’s misdeeds, or Stewart exploring the events that brought the Kopps to their present circumstances, this is a hard world and it takes a certain kind of person to make it. But you wouldn’t know that from the narration, really — just as Constance maintains a proper disposition (or tries to) and manners, so does Stewart.

It would’ve been very easy to turn this into something it’s not. Probably very tempting, too. It could’ve been all about the gender disparity of the time, and a feminist crusade. Or about the economics and labor conditions of the area and time — the strikes and the way they were dealt with by the owners and police. Or any number of other things, really. And it was about those things, but primarily it was a story. A decently told story with well-constructed characters. You give me one of those, and you can throw whatever politics, economic theory, etc. you want into the mix and I’ll read it. I may not buy everything you’re selling, but I’ll listen, and if your story and characters are good enough, I’ll come back. Too many people — particularly with historical fiction, it seems — will do okay with the story, mess up the characters, but nail the agenda. Stewart avoided those pitfalls, and thereby served her audience and any possible point she wanted to better.

Now, while this is a novel, it appears that Stewart has done as much research as she could to make this as non-fiction as possible. I’ve wondered a bit about that approach, does that limit what parts of the story she tells? Which would account for some odd gaps. And if it does limit it — is that a good or a bad thing? Or does that depend on the writer? That’s probably it, for some writers, such a limit would be freeing, while others would find the restriction too much. Stewart, it seems, turns this into a strength — matching with her previous non-fiction publications.

A fun little ride, full of historical nuggets, and a family you’d like to spend some time with. A little action, a little danger, but not a lot of violence. A pleasant mix of historical fiction and mystery. It’ll work for the cozy reader, the historical fiction reader, and people who just like good stories.

—–

3 Stars

The Burning Room by Michael Connelly

The Burning RoomThe Burning Room

by Michael Connelly
Series: Harry Bosch, #17

Mass Market Paperback, 459 pg.
Vision, 2015

Read: November 16 – 18, 2015

Harry Bosch is in the last few months of his career with the LAPD — he’s about to be forced to retire again, and there’ll be no coming back from this one. He’s at peace with this — as much as he can be. It helps that he’s training rookie Detective Lucia Soto. Soto wants to learn from him (which distinguishes her from a lot of his former partners) and seems to want to do things the way Bosch does — it’s about results, not politics; shoe leather, not (just) computer work — everyone matters. If Harry can replace himself with someone like her, he’ll go happily.

There are two cases that Bosch is focusing on this time out — one officially so, the other on his own. The official case has a lot of press, a lot of attention from inside and outside the LAPD from the Chief all the way down. It’s an odd cold case, too. The victim just died, from complications of a bullet lodged in his back almost a decade ago. From the initial findings to the end, nothing turns out to be anything like it was assumed in the initial investigation when he was shot. Great, twisty case.

Connelly spends more effort on the other case, which ends up giving the novel its title. It dates back to about the same time, but isn’t actually assigned to Bosch and Soto initially. It’s been a long time Hobby Case of Soto’s, though and she recruits Bosch to help — which he does, to keep her out of trouble and to continue her development. The case is an old arson investigation, the building that was set on fire was an old apartment building that also housed an unlicensed day care. Nine children died in the fire, and it’s haunted the neighborhood since. A much more complicated case — made the moreso by the two working it off-book.

Harry’s not fighting corruption in the ranks or City Hall this time — his targets may be close to power (and some are about as far from it as you can get), but that’s it. As much as I enjoyed the forever long feud with Irving, I’m glad to see some variety. No corruption to fight — just bureaucratic timetables and peevishness. That’s bad enough for anyone.

Whether we’re talking Iggy Ferras, David Chu, Kiz Rider, Jerry Edgar or any of the other partners Harry’s worked with, it’s safe to say, most of them haven’t been great matches. Kiz came close (Edgar did, too, in a way — they knew how to work together, mostly). This is probably the best relationship Harry’s had with a partner — not his equal, but with almost the same drive. And she knows she needs Harry’s lectures (which most of the others didn’t need or want), she wants to hear them — she even asks for his feedback and critique. Even without this, Soto’s got it going on, her strengths supplement and/or complement Harry’s. I wish they had more time together — although Harry’s lessons might start to grate on her if they spent more than several months together, see the above list of ex-partners.

While the partner/partner dynamic hasn’t always been idyllic, you can usually count on a healthy father-daughter interaction — or at least attempts on both of their parts at it. There wasn’t that much Harry and Maddie material in this one — but what was there was . . . okay. I wonder if Connelly is preparing for a spin-off series starring Maddie, or if he’ll hand that off to someone else to do.

I’m not entirely satisfied — nor are we supposed to be — with the way both cases resolved, but they did so in a way that Harry can be proud of. Much more he has a legacy to pass down –both to Maddie and to Det. Soto. You also know that Harry’ll be one of those retired cops who’ll be quick to return a call from someone in the future looking for help on an old case.

A good Bosch, not great, but solid and satisfying. Killer last scene, even if it made me think of Sutton Foster playing Harry in a very special episode of Bosch. Good ’nuff for me.

—–

3.5 Stars

Hit by Delilah S. Dawson

HitHit

by Delilah S. Dawson
Series: Hit, #1

Hardcover, 324 pg.
Simon Pulse, 2015

Read: November 21, 2015


When I heard Dawson talk about this on The Once & Future Podcast this past Spring, I knew I had to read it. But like with about half the things I say that about when I listen to that podcast, I never got around to it. I’m so glad I finally remembered to grab it. This was a great read — a heckuva gut punch. A great immersive experience.

Sure, we’ve all read dystopian fictions that take place decades (at least) after the fall of whatever society preceded it. But have you ever wondered what it’s like to live in the opening minutes of a dystopia? Panem before the Capital City was wretched hive of scum and vanity? Well, that’s exactly what Patsy Klein is going through.

Yeah, Patsy Klein — some parents, right?

So Patsy is given a task: work as an indentured servant/debt collector for 5 days and collect from these 10 people. To collect, get their signature and record one of three choices: pay up everything you owe to the bank, now; become an indentured servant yourself for 5 days; or be killed, and here’s a 17-year-old with a 9mm to take care of that. Take your pick.

How can anyone get away with that? Well, Valor Bank (and a couple of smaller entities) has bought — lock, stock and barrel — the debt of the U.S. and every individual in it. Which is a lot of debt when you stop and think about it (all that’s required, really is, something like a California Rolling Stop to reach that conclusion). Valor Banks wants that debt taken care of pronto — and thanks to a subclause in that credit card application that no one ever reads, and some greased wheels in Congress, they can present these choices to pretty much every citizen. Patsy’s part of the first wave of these collectors, moving out before the majority of Americans have figured out what’s happening.

Killer concept, right? Utterly horrific — and yet almost utterly believable. Like I said before, when you plunge in and read this in a sitting or two it works great. If you take the time to think about some of the elements, I’m not sure it’d hold up nearly as well. But man, it was a fun read, even when it made you uneasy about what Patsy was doing.

And before I go any further, I just have to add that this is one of the best cover designs (front and back) I’ve seen this year. I hope someone got a promotion/bonus/raise out of this.

Again, I’m not sure how well this would hold up to examining various aspects of the world. It’s clear that there’s a pretty well-developed world supporting this, but the more we see of it, the more we understand the machinations that Valor Bank went through on both the macro and micro level — which it seems clear is where the sequel is going — the less I’m going to like it. A vague, nebulous Other doing horrible things is frequently better than seeing the Man Behind the Curtain. Right now, this is great — grabs the imagination, taps in to zeitgeist-y resentments towards banks/financial entities, and adds a deadly teenage girl. You explain everything, let us see what’s going on and I’m afraid we’ll end up with something like Allegiant (I’m convinced that was the biggest problem with the end of the trilogy, Roth explained too much).

A great read with some real weaknesses that easy enough to overlook if you want to. This’ll grab you, make you feel every hit, every shot and every regret.

—–

3.5 Stars

Opening Lines – My Grandmother Asked Me to Tell You She’s Sorry

Head & Shoulders used to tell us that, “You never get a second chance to make a first impression.” That’s true for wearing dark shirts, and it’s especially true for books. Sometimes the characters will hook the reader, sometimes the premise, sometimes it’s just knowing the author — but nothing beats a great opening for getting a reader to commit. This is one of the better openings I’ve read recently. Would it make you commit?

Every seven-year-old deserves a superhero. That’s just how it is. Anyone who doesn’t agree needs their head examined.

That’s what Elsa’s granny says, at least.

Elsa is seven, going on eight. She knows she isn’t especially good at being seven. She knows she’s different. Her headmaster says she needs to “fall into line” in order to achieve “a better fit with her peers.” Other adults describe her as “very grown-up for her age.” Elsa knows this is just another way of saying “massively annoying for her age,” because they only tend to say this when she corrects them for mispronouncing “déjà vu” or not being able to tell the difference between “me” and “I” at the end of a sentence. Smart-asses usually can’t, hence the “grown-up for her age” comment, generally said with a strained smile at her parents. As if she has a mental impairment, as if Elsa has shown them up by not being totally thick just because she’s seven. And that’s why she doesn’t have any friends except Granny. Because all the other seven-year-olds in her school are as idiotic as seven-year-olds tend to be, but Elsa is different.

She shouldn’t take any notice of what those muppets think, says Granny. Because all the best people are different–look at superheroes. After all, if superpowers were normal, everyone would have them.

from My Grandmother Asked Me to Tell You She’s Sorry by Fredrik Backman

It was really hard to stop where I did, I wanted to use the first three pages, but am pretty sure that it’d get me in copyright trouble.

The Promise by Robert Crais

The PromiseThe Promise

by Robert Crais
Series: Elvis Cole, #14 / Joe Pike, #5
Hardcover, 402 pg.

G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 2015

Read: November 10 – 11, 2015


Elvis has been hired to find Amy Breslyn, from her pictures he says, “She looked like a sad version of someone’s marshmallow aunt: a kindly woman, slightly out-of-date, who wore sensible shoes and minded her own business.” But his client paints a picture of a woman who has been making some very unwise life choices lately, and she’s worried. Once Elvis scratches beneath the surface of Amy’s life, her recent lifestyle is far worse than “unwise.” Can the World’s Greatest Detective help her?

You strip away all the bells, whistles, multi-perspectives, co-mingling of series, and whatnot and you’ve got yourself a classic, prototypical Elvis Cole story. There’s a missing person that he’s hired to find, he goes through a bunch of stuff to find that person — ticking off a police department and a criminal enterprise in the process. At some point, he finds the person, but also discovers this person is in a world of hurt from the government/the criminals she’s crossed paths with, which he will try to extricate them from. Excitement, deception and bullets ensue. Pike does his thing. Elvis does his. Happy ending — or as close as you can get in this world we live in.

It’s with the bells and whistles that this one stands apart from your usual Elvis Cole book — which is both a good and a bad thing for the book.

Good, because we got to see so many characters that we enjoy and/or love interacting and teaming up.

But . . .

For the first few chapters it didn’t feel right — as an Elvis Cole book, it worked as a suspense novel — there was just too much bouncing around between the various point-of-view characters. By chapter 6 or 7, things settled down and back to what it should be. Still, The Promise probably stretches the limit of acceptable point-of-view characters: Mr. Rollins (the criminal we meet in the opening pages), Elvis, Joe, Jon Stone, Scott, and even Maggie — we’re an imp, a bastard and a khaleesi short of George R. R. Martin epic.*

It’s in trying to serve all these characters that the novel struggles — for example, I could’ve used more Pike. Sure, he’s effective when he’s around — but he’s barely around. After bringing in Jon Stone, Pike’s more of a backup than anything else — okay, fine, this was Stone’s kind of work. But still, if it’s listed as a Joe Pike novel we should see Joe do some Pike-level stuff. I don’t even think that Elvis said anything about him twitching the corner of his mouth in response to a joke! That might even disqualify it as an Elvis Cole.

Now, the Jon Stone material — especially his POV chapters — was great, and if it hadn’t been at the expense of Pike, I would write a healthy paragraph praising it.

The Maggie and Scott story might have been the most compelling part of the book. Scratch that, for me (at least, your mileage may vary) the Maggie and Scott story was the most compelling part of the book. It was fairly predictable, but executed so well that you just don’t care. This is a problem when they’re not the central figures in the book. I think the novel suffered from Spider-Man 3 Syndrome** — just too many characters running around to do a good job with.

I got enough of the Maggie and Scott material, same for the Jon Stone (except for the bit that you’re designed to want more of). But I needed more Joe being Joe, I wanted more Joe/Elvis interaction, more Elvis/Scott, more Elvis investigating, more — well, more Elvis, I guess is what I’m saying. Every time it seemed that the story was picking up steam and we were on track, we got someone else’s POV and had to start building momentum again.

Don’t get me wrong, I talked so much about the problems I had to fully explain them — I really enjoyed it, I just didn’t love it. After waiting so long, you’d hoped that this would’ve been dazzlingly great, instead The Promise will have to settle for being very enjoyable. Like I said at the outset, it’s a classic Elvis Cole story — and there are few things I’d rather read. I’m looking forward to re-reading this in a year or so, and I may put up a more favorable post when I do.


Okay, now that I’m thinking about it, who wouldn’t love to see Joe Pike smack Joffrey around a little bit?
8
I’d call it Batman Forever or Batman and Robin Syndrome, but those two had much worse problems than a plethora of characters

—–

4 Stars

Any Other Name by Craig Johnson

Any Other NameAny Other Name

by Craig Johnson
Series: Walt Longmire, #10

Hardcover, 317 pg.

Viking, 2014

Read: November 14 – 16, 2015

“I want to warn you that if you put Walter on this you’re going to find out what it’s all about, one way or the other.” Another pause, and I could imagine the face that was peering down at her, a visage to which I was accustomed. “You’re sure you want that? Because he’s like a gun; once you point him and pull the trigger, it’s too late to change your mind.”

There’s the problem, isn’t it? Walt won’t stop for anything once he starts. A perennial conflict in the Longmire series is Walt’s devotion to his friends/Cady and his duty as a sheriff (often more felt than real), part of its recurrence is because it always works as a plot device (as tired as it may feel — which is part of the whole thing, it’s just as tired for Cady as it is for the reader). Part of that is because I expect that it’s a strong reflection of reality (unlike, say the beating that Walt takes in this one and then the near super-human feats he accomplishes shortly thereafter).

Detective Gerald Holman shot himself — and did so in a fairly unusual manner. That aside, it’s a pretty cut-and-dried suicide. But his widow doesn’t buy it. Which isn’t that unusual, but because she doesn’t buy it, their old friend Lucian Connally doesn’t buy it — he’s just not that kind of guy. So Lucian drags Walt to the next county and gets him to investigate it — the sheriff there doesn’t see the need, but isn’t going to stop him. Lucian gives the widow the warning up above, and she agrees to it, as does Walt — even with the birth of his grandchild just days away in Philadelphia.

Along the way, Vic and Henry show up — as does a very unlikely friend of Walt’s from a couple of books back. Vic’s recovered physically from A Serpent’s Tooth, but the rest of her has a bit to go. Henry’s just Henry — and I’m pretty sure that’s all he’ll ever be. Walt befriends/drafts a local police officer, who also comes through for him in a pretty big way. Actually, meeting Officer Corbin Dougherty was one of my favorite parts of the book:

… he looked vaguely familiar….

“You date my daughter?”

“I did.” He blushed up to his blond crew cut. “The first time I came to pick her up you tossed me a shotgun shell.”

“I did?”

“Yeah, you said they went a lot faster after eleven o’clock.”

I nodded. “I used to think I was a tough guy.”

I liked this exchange for a few reasons: 1. It’s amusing, 2. It reminds me of one of the best exchanges between Raylan Givens and Wynn Duffy on Justified, 3. It illustrates the difference between Walt and Raylan. I don’t know if Raylan will ever get to the point where he could say that last line and mean it, but you know Walt did (and is probably embarrassed that he ever said it in the first place — Raylan may have rued uttering that to Wynn because of the fallout, but he sure wasn’t embarrassed).

The kinds of criminal activity that Walt turns up during his investigation of the suicide and Holman’s last cases that probably led him to it makes a guy miss Absaroka County and its apocalyptic cults, generations-long feuds, drug smuggling, serial killers and whatnot. But throughout it all, you know that Walt and his posse will bring justice to those who drove Holman over the edge.

To be honest, the ending of this one felt rushed — Walt had a hard deadline to meet, and so he had to rush things a bit on his end — and it felt like Johnson did, too. There was no cheating on the final reveal of his investigation — Johnson’s too careful for that, and he’s not one for red herrings, so you know the detail that leads Walt to the conclusion was important when you saw it the second time. But, I didn’t think it was well explained, the clues fit, but I didn’t see the motive working — at least not as given. It didn’t ruin the experience for me, but it took a little shine off of it.

—–

3 Stars

Never Tell by Alafair Burke

Never TellNever Tell

by Alafair Burke
Series: Ellie Hatcher, #4

Hardcover, 348 pg.

HarperCollins Publishers, 2012

Read: November 9 – 10, 2015

Ellie Hatcher and her partner, Rogan are called to a very nice townhouse to start investigating a homicide. At least that’s how it was called in. As far as the EMTs, the police officers that were first on the scene, and Ellie’s instincts are concerned, it was a suicide. But the distraught mother has money and is married to a music producer of some note, so when they squawk “murder”, Rogan and Hatcher at least have to spend some time considering it one.

There are a number of little signs all along that point to homicide, but suicide is obvious, easy, and quick to handle. Even as evidence starts to pile up, Ellie resists seeing suicide. The greater part of this is written as her coming to grips with her father’s all those years ago. I didn’t buy that explanation, really — I couldn’t see why Ellie hadn’t jumped in with gusto, just in case. That seems more consistent with her character than this cynical cop we see here.

There’s another story here — somewhat tied to the other, but you’re never sure just how much it’s tied together until the end. A woman who was repeatedly raped by her mother’s boyfriend a decade or so ago, is seeking healing, seeking to tell her story. So she starts an anonymous blog, “Second Acts: Confessions of a Former Victim and Current Survivor.” But she starts receiving threats, threats that demand to be taken seriously (but not enough to involve the police until she’s forced to) — which just empower her to continue. At a certain point, the threats become more personal, and maybe the anonymity isn’t as strong as the blogger thought. You’d think following 212 that Hatcher and Rogan would be more willing to believe the level of violence threatened here, but they don’t seem to take it seriously until forced to either (although, once this lands on their radar, they handle it better than the suicide/homicide).

I liked — as characters, not necessarily as people — the mourning mother and most of the social circle of the dead girl, and the lady who runs the homeless shelter. But everyone else pretty much left me cold. Jess had so little to do this time, it’s a wonder Burke used him at all. The Max storyline was okay, but seemed a little pat and tired — especially in the way that Ellie and Max reacted to each other. I’m not looking for much out of that part of the series, but I’d like something interesting. Nothing Rogan did really caught my attention, he served as an okay foil for Ellie/someone to spur her on, but it really could have been any other character doing the same. Thankfully, the stories were strong enough to keep me invested.

In the end, this is a solid mystery, with plenty of red herrings and half-told-truths to keep the reader and the detectives questioning what they see in front of them. Ellie Hatcher continues to be a character worth spending time with — even when she’s wrong.

—–

3 Stars

X by Sue Grafton

this is rushed, I’m having Internet shortages this week (long story, don’t ask), so I want to get this posted while I can. I may end up polishing it up within the day, if there are problems/typos/incomplete sentences, etc. — leave a comment

XX

by Sue Grafton
Series: Kinsey Millhone, #24

Hardcover, 403 pg.
Marian Wood Books/Putnam, 2015
Read: October 28 – 30, 2015

I’d forgotten how slow these books start, if I didn’t have confidence in Grafton built over 23 previous novels, I don’t know if I’d have kept going. By page 100, I was curious about both mysteries, engaged enough to keep going – but still no serial killer, no interesting crime — a lot of X’s in character names and whatnot — enough that you know Grafton intended them. The highlight had been meeting Cheney Phillips’ mom, fer crying out loud! You’d think with just three books in the series remaining, Grafton would be pulling out all stops to make this dazzle the readers, but nope. This book is possibly the most subtle, where the actual mystery, the heart of the book is lost in the midst of the mundane — not unlike actual life. Really, most of this book was the Adventures of Kinsey Millhone, Busybody with Too Much Time on Her Hands.

By this point, if we know nothing else, we’ve learned that you do not move into Kinsey and Henry’s neighborhood. If Kinsey decides she doesn’t like you, your life is going to be pried into, turned upside down, and — ultimately — you’ll find yourself living somewhere else. Gladys Kravitz has nothing on Kinsey. Now, whether it’s a gold-digger sniffing around Henry, an insane nurse, or what have you, Kinsey’s gut has been right — but she can’t bat a thousand, can she? Still, Henry gets some new neighbors who get him to run all over town on their behalf while he obsesses with a potential drought and water rationing — and by obsesses, I mean he turns in to Adrian Monk. Kinsey sees them taking advantage of Henry and steps in. I really didn’t like this storyline — Kinsey came off as a shrew (and, yes, I get it — part of this series has always been showing her warts and all — still, I want to expect more from her), no matter how rude and manipulative and possibly worse these new neighbors may be.

There’s another storyline that’s kicked off in the Prologue — I noted after reading it that we wouldn’t return to that for 300 pages or so. I was off by about 100, a mistake I’m willing to make. But it didn’t come back in the way I expected. Kinsey is hired for a job, and after completing it, she’s visited by the police, and she learns that she wasn’t working for who she thought she was — and that’s just the beginning of the problems — so she starts digging into her client, and what that client wanted her to accomplish anyway. This is one of the strangest, and possibly the most pointless, mystery Kinsey’s reported to us. With an oddly sentimental ending.

Pete Wolinsky, investigator of dubious morality from W is for Wasted (and Kinsey’s early days as a P. I.) turns up again. His widow, Ruthie, is facing an IRS audit and asks Kinsey to look through the papers she still has of his laying around for any financial records. Kinsey gets around to it eventually, and in the process finds some well-hidden materials and a coded message. Henry, puzzle-writer extraordinaire, decodes it and comes up with a list of names — some of which have a connection to one of Pete’s cases that Kinsey was aware of, but the rest are a mystery. This starts needling at Kinsey’s curiosity (which is already purring along thanks to the mysterious client above), and she starts going over Pete’s tracks, trying to see what was so important that he would feel compelled to leave notes in a code. Not only does this involve going back over Pete’s case, but decades before — and then back to the present. The rocks she turns over reveal a good deal, and maybe even help Kinsey learn to appreciate Pete in a way she should’ve while he was still with us.

We do check in with Jonah Robb, Robert Dietz, and the aforementioned Cheney Phillips, but nothing happens at all even approaching romance. Which is fine by me, Kinsey on her own is more interesting than Kinsey trying to make things work with a guy. Naturally, we spend a little time at Rosie’s and see William make a bold fashion choice. Yeah, it’s just that exciting a book.

There’s a character early on that the reader (and Kinsey) pegs as the major villain of the piece, but he’s never focused on to the exclusion of all the other moving pieces, so that when things get serious and dangerous, it’s almost as much of a surprise to the reader as it is to Kinsey. I think the way Grafton pulls off handling the storyline, letting the danger get hidden in the shuffle is what made me rank it so high. Actually, as I write this I’m wanting to rank it lower, but I’m going to trust my initial judgment on this (but honestly, I’ve read a couple of 2 star reviews for this that I wholeheartedly agree with). It was nice going back to Santa Teresa to spend time with the old gang, but I’m really hoping Grafton makes these next two a little more worth the effort.

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4 Stars

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