Category: Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller Page 132 of 154

The Reluctant Warrior by Ty Patterson

The Reluctant Warrior (Warrior series, #2)The Reluctant Warrior

by Ty Patterson

Kindle Edition, 313 pg.
Amazon Digital Services, 2014
Read: November 18 – 19, 2014A few months ago, I read the first volume in this trilogy and enjoyed it, while noting some real problems. The same thing could be said about this follow-up — the problems are still there, but they’re not as bad. Patterson’s improved — he’s better at what he was good at, and his bad isn’t quite as bad.

The character I liked most from The Warrior, Broker, moves to Center Stage for this one, hired by the FBI agent who made such a mess of things last time, Isakson. He’s been trying to take down an increasingly powerful criminal organization in New York, a gang called the 5Clubs. The problem is, there seems to be a mole in the FBI or the NYPD, and he can’t find it. Enter Broker and his impossibly good sources, software and assorted mercenaries — most notably, the Warriors.

Broker tries to improve upon the FBI’s own investigation, but it doesn’t work to well. So, he picks another strategy. He’s going to ask the 5Clubs, who the mole is. Which includes the bonus feature of taking out a good deal of their operations along the way to give them a reason to actually answer.

Mayhem, destruction, and vigilante justice ensues in a quite entertaining fashion.

There are some weaknesses, which I really don’t want to focus on — but these take me out of the action, take me out of the scene when I ran into them. If they didn’t, I wouldn’t talk about them. But when it stops me, I have to mention it.

1. There were far too many “Britishisms.” Mechanics from Ohio don’t talk to their kids about going on holidays, or use a “mobile.” Once the action got going in Part 2, it stopped being as much of an issue — things were moving fast enough that they were easier to ignore.

2. Similarly, Patterson could use a synonym or two for “gang” and “hood.” The repeated use of these two got to the point where they were grating.

3. When it comes to the inter-personal dialogue, Patterson’s improved, but not enough. You can tell when he’s going for banter between the team members, but it’s just a little wooden.

The problems detract and distract, but don’t ultimately ruin the experience of The Reluctant Warrior. It’s a solid action story and a good improvement over the previous installment, and I’m curious to see where Patterson takes it next.

Note: I was graciously provided a copy of this book by the author in exchange for a review. Hope he doesn’t regret that.

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3 Stars

Personal by Lee Child

Personal (Jack Reacher, #19)Personal

by Lee Child
Series: Jack Reacher, #19

Hardcover, 353 pg.
Delacorte Press, 2014
Read: November 10 – 11, 2014Someone took a pot-shot at the French president — and by pot-shot, I mean “almost impossible” sniper shot — it didn’t work, didn’t even break the “invisible armor” glass in front of him. But still, bad form, and people are expected to do something about that. Various and sundry intelligence agencies across the globe come up with a short list of snipers capable of making the shot. Disturbingly enough, most of them are employed by various and sundry nations across the world, but there’s a small handful that are just tracked (almost infallibly) by the same groups.

In this case, there were four unaccounted for at the time of the shooting. A British sniper, a Russian sniper, an American, and (I think) a French sniper (clearly doesn’t matter…minor spoiler). Each respective government gets someone to track down their potential suspect. Once upon a time, MP Jack Reacher arrested the American. So someone in the upper echelons of the Army reached out to Reacher in some cloak and dagger-y way to get him involved in tracking down the U. S. sniper.

Reacher has nothing better to do — no longer on his mission to meet Maj. Susan Turner (and wasn’t really given a choice, anyway) — and he owes the Brig. General. So “Sherlock Homeless,” as he’s been dubbed by the Army, heads off to Arkansas, Paris and London to track down his prey. The requisite purchases of replacement clothing, fights, and Reacher-ness ensues.

There was one particular highlight for me. There’s a London gangster, Little Joey — a giant of a man, makes look Reacher look like . . . well, like Tom Cruise standing next to the book’s version of Jack Reacher — Reacher’s initial internal description of him makes the whole book worth reading.

The most disturbing thing about this book is the constant, universal, assumption that governments will cover up, manipulate media and spy on everyone they choose to. In other novels — Gone Tomorrow jumps to mind as the best example — Reacher’s resented this kind of thing, complained about it. But this time, he uses it, takes it for granted — this could just be Reacher the pragmatist and we could get a return to form next time. But the way that everyone else — no matter their nationality or role in the investigation — assumes this, and doesn’t care about it, disturbed me. Mostly because I figure it’s fairly realistic.

The first few chapters are riddled with Reacher describing himself as “Predictable.” And, yeah, he is — both in his world and as a character in novels. He’s going to act a certain way, he’s going to shoot, punch, elbow and kick a certain amount of people. He will win the day, leave a few bodies in his wake, and at least charm a lady or two along the way (at his most chaste). Predictable. But satisfying. Scratching a particular itch for readers in a way only Lee Child can.

This seems to be a pretty divisive book amongst fans, for reasons I don’t particularly understand — on the whole the complaints I’ve seen about this one could be applied to 12-15 of the others, it’s just the way Child works. Maybe my expectations are different than others, but this one checked all my “Reacher” boxes and provided a few hours of entertainment.

Predictable can just be another word for Reliable.

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4 Stars

A Less Happy Anniversary – Rex Stout (December 1, 1886 – October 27, 1975)

Don’t worry, this is not going to become the Rex Stout/Nero Wolfe Almanac. But the Rex Stout Facebook page just posted something about this being the 39th anniversary of Rex Stout’s death at the age of 88. I was barely reading at the time — certainly not murder mysteries — so the event meant practically nothing to me. I certainly couldn’t have known then that he’d make a bigger impact on me than just about any other writer.

He’d have led a fascinating life if he’d never started writing novels. What he was able to do because he started writing — particularly writing the Nero Wolfe/Archie Goodwin series — is beyond the hopes of most people. Yeah, a lot of what he labored for politically would be the sort of thing that I’d be opposed to (but not all of it). Nevertheless, he showed the kind of civic activity that’s admirable.

As I write this, John McAleer’s 600+ page Rex Stout: A Biography, is literally an arm’s reach from me. I’m going to resist the urge to pull it off the shelf and start relating some of my favorite bits. Instead, I’ll just point you to this pdf version of the obituary The New York Times ran on the front page the day after he died.

Happy Birthday, Archie

My annual tribute to one of my favorite fictional characters (if not my all-time favorite). I really need to update/expand this a bit, but this isn’t the year for it.

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.

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 thusly:

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 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.

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.

 

“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.

Robert Crais’ The Promise Delayed

According to an email I just received about my preorder* and a post to his Facebook page (but no update to his website yet), The Promise has been delayed. The Facebook post says a US publication date is forthcoming, but I’m supposed to receive mine on April 28 of next year.

On the one hand — you know what? I’d rather it be done right, rather than done fast. Robert Crais, much like George R. R. Martin or Patrick Rothfuss or Jim Butcher (to name a few notable authors who’ve delayed things lately) is not my bitch. Crais knows when the book is done, and until then, I can wait.

On the other hand, this is rather short notice for this kind of thing from what I can tell. Makes me wonder about the editorial process for one of his books. Also? I’d scheduled things so I could go right from Taken one week to The Promise the next (yes, the reviews are behind by two books, but my reading is on track).

The positive take: Crais is going to give us the book he wants to. Personally, drat, it means more time without a new Cole/Pike (plus Maggie!) book. And it’s just further proof that the Scot knew what he was talking about when he described how schemes “Gang aft agley.”

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* One of the dumbest words in widespread use right now. Why not just say I ordered it? Just because it hasn’t released doesn’t make it a special kind of ordering…

Reread Project: The Last Detective by Robert Crais

The Last Detective (Elvis Cole, #9)The Last Detective

by Robert Crais
Series: Elvis Cole, #9

Hardcover, 320 pgs.
Doubleday, 2003
Read: October 1 – 2, 2014

The Last Detective begins a few months after the L. A. Requiem and Joe Pike is trying to get himself back in fighting shape after his devastating injuries in exactly the place you’d expect — the Alaskan wilderness (isn’t that where’d you go?). Joe’s looking more mortal than he had since the shooting in The Monkey’s Raincoat, but like the tattoos indicate, he’s moving forward. While there he encounters an Alaskan brown bear? The way Crais describes it (which seems pretty realistic), if you stop and think about it — that’s horror, that’s terror. Hannibal Lecter, Martin Vanger, Alex Kork — that’s fiction, that’s fantasy. Brown bear? That’s reality. A reality I hope never to know better than I do now. But, this isn’t Joe Pike starring in Man vs. Wild, so we’re off to L. A.

Elvis and Ben Chenier are hanging out for a few days while Ben’s mom is out of town, Elvis and Lucy are still trying to recover from the hit their relationship took in Requiem. Ben goes off to play outside while Elvis is on the phone with Lucy, and then he doesn’t come back. Elvis gets scared, finds his video game laying in the brush below Elvis’ house. It’s not too long afterwards that they get a call — the boy didn’t get lost, he didn’t run away — he was abducted.

The investigation gets into full swing fairly quickly — Elvis calls in some favors from the police to help. Here we meet investigator Carol Starkey (from Crais’ Demolition Angel) who vacillates between appreciating Elvis’ investigatory skills and being annoyed with him. Lucy’s ex comes in, pushing his investigators into the investigation, trying to push Elvis out and generally making life difficult for him. Richard clearly has an Elvis-shaped chip on his shoulder and uses this circumstance to throw dirt on his ex-wife’s new love.

It seems that Ben’s kidnapping is related in some way to what Elvis did in Vietnam, and both the reader and those involved in the investigation learn a lot about something that Elvis thought he was done talking about. What some people called his secrets, he saw differently:

I wasn’t keeping secret. Some things are better left behind, that’s all, you move past and go on. That’s what I’ve tried to do, and not just about the war.

Elvis’ life before and during the war weren’t wonderful, and he’s tried to go on. But that’s no longer an option — he has to revisit a lot of that, which Lucy doesn’t react well to.

On the one hand, I’m still liking Lucy less and less for more of the same that I complained about last time. But that’s not to say I disagree with her — when she tells Joe Pike that the way he and Elvis live isn’t normal.

I don’t like the way violence follows you; you and him. I’ve known police officers all my life, and none of them live like this. I know federal and state prosecutors who’ve spent years building cases against murderers and mob bosses, and none of them have their children stolen . . . I am normal! I want to be normal! Are you so perverted that you think this is normal? It isn’t! It is insane!

. She’s right. But . . . well, see what I said last time. I sympathize, but I still don’t like her any more.

Now, this isn’t just a manhunt for the kidnappers — there’s plenty for Elvis to investigate, a few twist and turns and — of course, secrets unearthed and a decent helping of violence. The emotional toll these events take is worse than anything else, all things considered.

Although the focus is on Elvis and the search for Ben. We do learn a little more about Pike (no problems between he and the LAPD this time). We get a different explanation for Joe’s need for order and cleanliness than I’d surmised from Requiem, but it’s probably a combination. I’m only talking about it so much because for so long it’s what little we knew about him — he liked his Jeep spotless and everything immaculate. Joe displays his typical loyalty to Elvis here — it’s typical for him, it’s out-of-place in today’s world on the whole. He even takes on a debt that sets up a future book, a detail I hadn’t really paid attention to until now, but it was a huge move on his part.

John Chen returns — and is again helped to gain a bit of the spotlight he so craves, but he’s got skills of his own (and is probably learning a good deal from Joe and Elvis). He’s still a not good guy, really, but you can’t help but like him. I had a brief moment of fan-boy excitement when everyone’s favorite Vietnam Tunnel Rat turned LAPD detective puts in a cameo. It really helped lighten the oppressive mood. It was nice to see him in these pages, it was nicer still that it happened when it did.

This is the most intense, fastest-paced Elvis Cole novel yet. It’s all forward momentum (see Pike’s tattoos yet again — Crais isn’t the only one who can overuse them as a symbol). Part of this — maybe a large part of this — has to do with the fact that it’s a kidnapping case, every minute counts. It certainly doesn’t hurt that every chapter leads off with “X Hours, Y Minutes” since the kidnapping.

This is really great stuff here. Even though I remembered why the various villains were up to their villainy, seeing it revealed to Elvis still got me riled up as it was intended to, and though I knew how both the kidnapping and related stories wrapped up, I was still glued to the pages, turning as fast as I could. Which is the sign of a master of suspense writing — that even when there’s no suspense, the reader is still reacting as if there was.

—–

5 Stars

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Drawing by Kirsty Stewart, chameleonkirsty on deviantART, used with permission.

One Kick by Chelsea Cain

One Kick (Kick Lannigan, #1)One Kick

by Chelsea Cain

Hardcover, 309 pg.
Simon & Schuster, 2014
Read: September 19 – 20, 2014

When she was a kid, the shrinks told her she had anger issues. But she didn’t have anger issues, at least not the way that they meant. She was just angry.

As well she should be.

When Kit Lannigan was six years old, she was abducted by someone in the middle of the day and America (and her family) assumed the worst things possible had happened. Most of them did. But when she was 12 or 13, the FBI rescued her from her abductors. We meet Kit, now calling herself Kick, about a decade later, much changed. She’s seen a million shrinks, taken up all sorts of self-defense, forms of personal protection and weapons to make herself feel safe. She’s fairly well adjusted — and angry. She’s patched together a life that works for her. Then an arms dealer looking to do a little good in the world, John Bishop, comes to her. Bishop wants her help in tracking down — and hopefully rescuing — two local abducted children.

We are all relieved — and honestly, generally surprised — when one of those children we see on Amber Alerts gets rescued in relatively good health, particularly years after their abduction. But on the other hand, we do know (whether we say it out loud or not) that this poor kid is going to be dealing with this trauma for the rest of their lives. And on occasion, we get updates from them on morning news shows on the anniversaries of their rescues, or the occasional book. But on the whole, soon after their ordeal is over we forget them (which is probably good — anonymity is probably the best chance they have at a near normal life). Still, we’ve all wondered what life is like for them. We get one idea from the first couple of Lisa Gardner’s D. D. Warren books or Heitor Dhalia’s Gone. One Kick gives us one more. And it’s a doozy.

Is Kick as formidable a fighter as she thinks she is? Nope. She’s not a Gina Carano character or Charlie Fox. Which is a relief — I prefer seeing her not that capable — and yet, she thinks she’s much better than she is. Which is probably the only way she gets out of bed in the morning. Still, she could hold her own against more people in a fight than most of humanity.

There is a psychological realism to the depictions here that adds a degree of credibility to Cain’s characters and story. Now, I don’t know how realistic it is, honestly — but it sure seems real, and in a novel, that’s pretty much all you’re looking for. “Do I think that this trauma would/could result in this behavior?” is the only question the reader needs to ask. And Cain nails it with all her characters, not just Kick (although she does her best here, as we spend more time with Kick than the rest combined).

Do not get me started on Kick and her dog. So good.

If you’re not sure that this premise interests you? Stay away. The violence, the psychological damage, the rawness of it all will not appeal to everyone (probably shouldn’t, either). It’s not a fun, “yee-haw, let’s take out some bad guys” kind of suspense novel, either. Go into this with your eyes open.

Much more than a revenge novel, or a suspense novel about tracking down abducted children, One Kick is about some very damaged people trying to turn their experiences into something that can help someone else. If that provides a measure of relief for Kick, Bishop and the rest? So much the better. Good action, fast-paced (but not at a break-neck speed), some characters you probably don’t relate to, but can actually like. A couple characters you hate — a strong visceral kind of hate. Really worth the read. I’m looking forward to seeing where Cain takes Kick next.

—–

5 Stars

Reread Project: L.A. Requiem by Robert Crais

L.A. Requiem (Elvis Cole, #8)L.A. Requiem by Robert Crais
Series: Elvis Cole, #8

Mass Market Paperback, 539 pages
Published October 3rd 2002 by Pocket
Read: September 24 – 25, 2014


I know that I’ve read this one at least twice previously, but you wouldn’t have been able to prove it last week when I started my re-read of it. I’d spent the last few weeks while planning this series (and probably years before it), convinced that the events of The Last Detective happened in this book — and that the back story revealed here was revealed a couple of books earlier.

Not only that, I’d forgotten this was where we met John Chen! I’d even forgot that he was on the horizon! Sure, John Chen is a despicable, slimey guy. But there’s something about him I liked — even here, before any of his redeeming qualities are found (developed?), there’s something about John that’s likeable. He’s a creep, but he’s Pike’s creep.

Still, I’d clearly forgotten just about everything meaningful about this novel — at least as far as plot goes. I remember what I learned about Pike (but, as I said, thought I learned it elsewhere). Making this a lot of fun to reread. Which is, I guess, the whole point of rereading.

Anyway, to the book itself:

One of my all-time favorite movies is Midnight Run, if you haven’t watched it, shame on you. Really. There’s no excuse. Go rectify that situation. As you’ll recall, Jonathan Mardukus torments the bounty hunter bringing him back to LA with the question, “Why are you so unpopular with the Chicago police department?” Throughout this series, astute readers have likely been asking a similar question: “Why is Joe Pike so unpopular with the Los Angeles police department?” — at least I have (which is not to say you’re an astute reader if you haven’t been asking the question I have — clearly, you’re astute. And good looking. With a great sense of humor). Except for the times when the detectives have hard to travel out of town, we’ve seen animosity to outright hatred in the LAPD’s reaction to Joe (with the exception of Det. Angela Rossi). In these pages, we finally learn why (it’s an understandable, yet, mistaken reason — naturally). But we learn a lot more about him, here, too: the foundation for his obsession with keeping his jeep clean, why he’s driven in many of the ways that he is, and more — but this isn’t just a series of flashbacks — all we learn about Joe serves the main story as well as the character.

For a little change of pace here in book 8, Joe Pike brings in the client. In this case, it’s the father of a woman Joe dated back when he was a police officer, things ended badly, but not so badly that Frank Garcia has lost any respect for Joe. So when Karen goes missing one day, and the police won’t help him yet, Frank turns to Joe for help. Joe, naturally, brings Elvis along for this investigation.

The events that turned Pike into LAPD’s Most Hated are related to the outcome of this case — and not just because it makes every cop willing to believe the worst in Joe and not look too hard for an alternative explanation when Joe becomes a suspect. His partner jailed, the police hostile to any efforts to seek another suspect, the Karen Garcia case becomes Elvis’ most personal case yet (until the next book).

The various police officers and detectives involved in this book are just horrible — bordering on cartoonishly bad at the beginning. Not necessarily bad at their jobs, just bad human beings. Thankfully, Crais isn’t that kind of writer, and you learn there’s actually a reason for these men and women to act this way. Garcia’s able to use his political clout to force the detectives assigned to the case to let Elvis observe them, read their reports and whatnot. Which is resented (and not just because of Joe), particularly by the detective who’s forced to act as his liaison, Samantha Dolan. Dolan eventually softens to a degree, and her relationship with Cole acts as a precursor/template for another coming soon in Elvis’ life.

I’m going to break my anti-spoiler policy here, and rant a bit. If you want to read it, use your mouse to select the following paragraph:
Lucy, Lucy, Lucy — I am so disappointed in you. Of course Elvis is going to choose to help Joe here. Of course, he’s going to put his life on the line for his partner (who’s saved his life more than once). Of course, Elvis is going to bend the law (at best), going to pull out all the stops to find the killer and save Joe. What did you think he was going to do? Stop being Elvis? How did you two meet? What lengths did Elvis go to in order to help out these complete strangers and the woman who lied to him and fired him? And then what did he do for those kids, after you forced him to help? Not to mention the case that got you your job in L.A.? I get it, you’re in a vulnerable place, you’ve changed your whole life thanks to Elvis and you feel like he owes you a bit. But before you moved to L. A. you knew who he was. You knew the kind of man he was and what kind of dangerous work he did. I started disliking Lucy here, and that only grows in the next book (even if I sympathize with her more there), so that when she shows up in The Forgotten Man I don’t even want to see her.

Nothing is simple about this case — not the mystery, not the motive for the killings, not the various motives for the investigators, not the lives of those touched by the crimes/criminals/investigators. It’s all complicated, messy and very human.

In the end, this is Crais’ masterpiece. Which isn’t to say that he hasn’t written some very satisfying and enjoyable books after this — many of which I like more. But nothing’s as good as this one. This brings us to a new stage in the Cole books — one that continues to this day. I might contrast the two stages a bit more in the weeks to come (maybe during/after The Forgotten Man or maybe to go along with The Promise), almost making them two different series. And yes, I miss the old Elvis — but that’s not to say there’s a problem with the new one, it’s just noting a difference. It’s haunting, it’s disturbing, and will affect any reader that has an emotional connection to the partners. Really well done. Oh, and as a bonus, the last 3 or 4 pages are just gorgeous — probably the most “writerly” writing that Crais has done yet.

—–

5 Stars

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Drawing by Kirsty Stewart, chameleonkirsty on deviantART, used with permission.

Reread Project: Indigo Slam by Robert Crais

Indigo Slam (Elvis Cole, #7)Indigo Slam

by Robert Crais
Series: Elvis Cole, #7

Mass Market Paperback, 320 pg.
Fawcett Books, 2003
Read: September 16 – 17, 2014


This, right here, is the low point for the Elvis Cole series. So why, you ask, do you give this 3 stars? Am I just that much of a mindless fanboy?

Well, probably. But that’s not it. One’s appreciation for this novel has everything to do with what you think of the clients. If you like them, see something in them that teaches us something about Elvis — you’ll probably like this book. If not, well, this’ll likely be a tougher read for you. Now, me? I liked the kids, especially Teri, the Fifteen year-old eldest sister, and substitute mom. Little sister Winona’s clearly adorable, Charles is a punk clearly in need of a strong male authority figure. Either individually, or considered as a group, I liked the kids — and therefore, when they ask the World’s Greatest Detective to find their absentee dad – I cared.

If it was almost anyone else looking for their dad, Clark, I can’t imagine caring. Once Elvis found him, I quickly reached the point where I didn’t care if Elvis was able to help him, as long as the kids would be alright.

Towards the end of the book, both Elvis and Joe make a major blunder that almost gets all of them killed. And sure, I don’t necessarily expect the two to have everything worked out before they take action — but there was evidence enough that they could’ve been on their toes security-wise and not almost got killed in the process. Not only do they miss the pretty obvious conclusion, they don’t even see that there’s a conclusion to be found. I’ve read Indigo four times now, and it distracts and detracts each time.

What makes Elvis’ (and, to be fair, Joe’s) blunder so egregious, was that it was hot on the heels of Elvis’ latest cunning plan. Some of these plans he comes up with to get his clients/clients’ families out of hot water stretch credulity, this one takes the cake. As Blackadder would say, it’s “a plan so cunning, you could put a tail on it and call it a weasel!” I can’t believe that anyone would go along with it — beyond the desperate family, that is — but not only do a group of criminals/revolutionaries, but Elvis gets multiple federal agencies to sign off. And it works. Mostly.

But somehow the book works. For two independent reasons: 1. As I stated previously, because of the clients — I bought into them. And 2., Because of the Lucy Story.

There was just something I liked about these kids and their plight — I believed it, I could see it. I enjoyed watching Elvis and Joe interact with them (really sick of Joe as baby sitter, let him do a little more, Elvis!)

There’s a little bit of a Lucy story, not as big as in the last two novels, but it’s there, and it’s an important development of what started in Sunset Express. But more than that, it’s a chance for Elvis to demonstrate the sensitive, caring male that he is. For Lucy to be an independent woman. And for the reader to see that this isn’t going to be a relationship that’s only wine and roses. Yes, Elvis is still the giddy, goofy guy in love making kissy sounds over the phone. But he’s also an adult who respects his partner.

Not a whole lot (other than Joe and Lucy) to tie this one to earlier novels — Elvis continues to use Lou Poitras and Eddie Ditko as his own personal (anachronistic) Google. And Elvis’ actions in Free Fall end up paying off for him, which was nice to see.

In the end, this was pretty blah. There were some nice character moments, a few chuckles, a nice firefight or two..but that’s really it. Not much going for it at all, which is a shame. Not the way that Phase 1 for Elvis Cole should end — but the parts that are a prequel for Phase 2 were strong enough (you’ll have to read L. A. Requiem to better understand that).

—–

3 Stars

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Drawing by Kirsty Stewart, chameleonkirsty on deviantART, used with permission.

Reread Project: Sunset Express by Robert Crais

Sunset Express (Elvis Cole, #6)Sunset Express by Robert Crais
Series: Elvis Cole, #6

Hardcover, 288 pg.
Hyperion, 1996
Read: September 10, 2014


There are two stories being told by Crais in this book — yes, interwoven and interdependent — but two stories. The fun one involves Lucy Chenier coming out to LA for work and to see Elvis. She brings along her son to make it a little family vacation. When Elvis gets the news, he becomes a different person than we’ve seen before — or at least a more intense version of something we saw in Voodoo River, but that’s about it. He’s a lovestruck fool — very clearly — and Crais does a great job of portraying him that way. Yes, the World’s Greatest Detective can, of course, get his mind focused on work when necessary, but off the clock, he’s a grinning victim of Cupid. The two of them together are cute, charming, and can’t help but want to see them together a lot more.

The story focusing on Elvis’ professional life isn’t nearly as fun, heartwarming or cute. But Elvis gets to be snarky and ironic, and do the typical Elvis things (investigate, make jokes people don’t get, and even use his fists and gun a little). Jonathan Green — high-profile attorney in the F. Lee Bailey, Robert Shapiro, Johnnie Cochran, etc. mold — and his team of associates (and a camera crew), hire Elvis to help with the defense in the trial of Teddy Martin. Teddy Martin’s a celebrity restaurateur accused of the brutal murder of his wife — a pretty open and shut case, it seems. But Green’s people are getting tips like crazy and they need additional investigators to comb through them. One of the more promising tips involves allegations of one of the detectives in the case planting evidence in previous cases. Elvis agrees to investigate Det. Angela Rossi and track down other tips, but insists he’ll report the truth, not what will necessarily help the case — Green agrees to this, insisting that’s all he wants. Elvis gets to work and finds some quick results. But it’s not too long before he sees a stark discontinuity between what he finds ot about Rossi and other tips and how that information is being used by the defense.

Sunset Express is hindered by having one of those plots that people who read (or watch) a lot of detective novels will realize is problematic in a way the characters can’t. Everything in Elvis’ case moves along too smoothly. Now, in Lullaby Town and Voodoo River, for example, his investigation goes pretty smoothly, but you can tell that the plot complications are going to come from what happens as a result of his work. Here, you can tell there’s something wrong with the answers he’s finding. Yet, Elvis doesn’t have our perspective, he can’t tell he’s getting yanked around. It’s frustrating, just sitting around waiting for things to dawn on him so he can catch up to us.

As frustrating (please note I didn’t say it wasn’t compelling) as that storyline is, the relationship material with Elvis and Lucy (and, with Ben to a lesser degree) is great. The whole book could’ve been built around that (and arguably was) and I’d have been happy. It’s good to see that the two have kept their long-distance relationship going. She’s clearly good for him (and, I think, him for her) — even if the reader can’t tell that for certain, all you have to do is watch how Joe reacts to her.

It wouldn’t be an Elvis Cole book without some good natured humor at Joe’s expense, for example:

I called Joe Pike to tell him that we were once more employed. His answering machine picked up on the first ring and beeped. He used to have a one-word message that just said, “Speak,” but I guess he felt it was long-winded. Now, there was just the beep. When I asked him how people were supposed to know who they had gotten or what to do, he’d said, “Intelligence test.” That Pike is something, isn’t he?

For a good chunk of this novel, it looks like Joe is going to be relegated to baby-sitting Ben. Now, granted, he seems to enjoy Ben and there are few people your kid is going to be safer with, but what a waste of our friend with the Aviator Glasses-fixation.

Of course, Rossi knows Joe. They used to work together back when Joe was on the force, and as of this point in the series, she is the member of the LAPD that doesn’t hate Joe. For more reasons than that, Joe respects her (although that can’t hurt), so when things start to go off the rails for her, Joe insists that his partner step up and clear her name. Joe’s not much help on the investigation front, but in the gun packing (and more), fast driving, and personal intensity departments? He’s aces.

Other little treats in this box of Cracker Jacks? The return of Ray Depente — I’d completely forgotten he came back in this one, and it was so nice to see him. He’s a lot of fun in his couple of scenes. And, Eddie Ditko is back, unpleasant and omniscient as ever.

As Free Fall featured Elvis’ reaction to/stance/meditation on L.A.’s racial divide and police corruption, this gives us his take on the manipulation of the legal system (and a healthy amount of support for the police — particularly in light of Free Fall). Elvis has understood the difference between the legal system and justice, and has worked outside (if not at odds with) the system before in the pursuit of justice. But this time, he was seeking justice — thought he’d helped various people find it — only to find his work, his self, his name used as a tool to twist the system into preventing justice being carried out. His ultimate solution to this problem is very effective, and would likely be far more effective today than it was 18(!!) years ago. Well done, Mr. Cole.

A strong satisfying read, with two storylines well worth reading, Sunset Express is a solid entry to this series, and the first step away from the Elvis Cole of the first stage of the series and into the next (see previous entry for my discussion of this). Sunset and Indigo Slam are the bridge between these stages, but properly belong to the first. Even ignoring my little theory of the stages/eras in the series, this is a strong and well-deserved follow-up to Voodoo River, our heroes are back in L.A., as are the criminals and Elvis lady friend. It’s enough to get another verse out of Randy Newman.

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3.5 Stars

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Drawing by Kirsty Stewart, chameleonkirsty on deviantART, used with permission.

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