Tag: Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller Page 53 of 62

Light It Up by Nick Petrie: Peter Ash Throws a Monkey Wrench into a Denver Conspiracy

Light It Up

Light It Up

by Nick Petrie
Series: Peter Ash, #3

Paperback, 381 pg.
G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 2018

Read: December 28-29, 2020
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!

“I could really use your help,” Henry told Peter. “Maybe a week, two at the most. Just until I get things squared away,”

Peter didn’t have to think before he answered.

“No problem.” He’d send June a postcard. Maybe leave out a few details. He didn’t want to worry her. “Sign me up.”

Later, he’d wish he’d answered differently.

He’d have plenty of reasons.

But he knew he’d have answered exactly the same way.

What’s Light It Up About?

Peter meets and befriends a Vietnam vet on a project in Oregon. His friend, Henry, needs to return home to Denver—his daughter and son-in-law run a security company, escorting money for the cannabis industry. On a recent run, the son-in-law and his team went missing (along with the money). Henry needs to go help run things and hopefully come across a clue about the disappearance. He asks Peter to come along, and he does.

Four days later, Henry, Peter, and two others are taking care of another shipment of money. It’s a very routine run—until it’s not. They’re attacked by a group of professionals and it’s a very ugly event.

It’s no longer about Peter trying to help out a friend, it’s now about Peter striking back at the people who attacked his team and making sure they don’t do anything like that again.

A Three-Headed Monster

There are essentially three villains to this book. I’d like to talk about all three of them, but I don’t think I really can without taking something away from the experience—one calls the shots, one is the man on the ground making the plans and seeing that they’re implemented, the third is the guy who carries out the plan.

This latter we’ve seen before—he’s all about killing and raping*—maybe a little pillaging while he’s at it. He really just wants to watch the world burn. The man at the top is another guy we’ve seen before (a good version of him, don’t get me wrong).

* No, he doesn’t rape anyone in this book. There are some passing references to times he has, and he definitely looks forward to doing it in the future.

It’s the middle man that’s the guy who captured my attention. The man at the top is probably convinced he’s doing the right thing (for at least some people), the guy at the bottom of the chain of command doesn’t care about right and wrong. But the other one—he knows that what he’s doing is wrong, he is deliberately choosing evil. He has compelling reasons for that, but he’s going in with his eyes wide open.

Also, he has an interesting tie to Peter, one that adds a new layer to Peter.

No Army of One

Peter likes to think of himself as a lone wolf—he can do it all himself. Maybe even thinks he needs to (the book delves deep into this toward the end, but I’m not interacting with that part). But he’s not one—unlike Jack Reacher (the easiest guy to compare him to) who will pick up an ally or two for a book, and then will leave them in the dust while “The Lonely Man” (from The Incredible Hulk) plays in the background.

Peter didn’t want to leave June behind, but needed to (and wants to get back to her). And while he considers Lewis a friend, doesn’t try to get him involved in his messes. But they don’t let him—he needs help, so they come to him, over his objections.

Peter’s an action hero for our time—he’s dealing with PTSD (not stoically enduring, he’s trying to deal with it, he’s got a counselor), he has a sense of humor, and he’s a social creature. He needs people—for community and for assistance from time to time—and he’s the kind of guy that people are drawn to.

There’s a moment where Lewis describes why Peter’s men followed him where they did in Iraq. It’s something about his personality, is leadership, his character—he still has that, he just has different people following him in the trouble spots in the U.S.

The Lone Wolf Hero is a mainstay, it’s a fixture in Fiction—but a hero like Peter? He’s so much easier to believe. Easier to root for. He has more to lose, so you care more for his success.

A Missed Opportunity

When it looks likely that Peter’s going to be facing some legal troubles, Lewis arranges for a lawyer for him. She comes on the scene like some sort of oversexed Rita Fiore (from the Spenser/Jesse Stone series), intimidating police and protecting Peter. She’s not cartoonish, but she’s trending that way. She has a couple of good scenes, but then she practically vanishes.

This isn’t a legal thriller, and a lawyer shouldn’t play a huge role—but if you’re going to put a flashy character show up, use them. There’s no reason to believe that she’ll be around in future books—unless Peter moves to Denver.

I did like her, I thought she had some good scenes, but it felt like hiring Meryl Streep to play a role listed as “Lady in Restaurant” in the credits.

So, what did I think about Light It Up?

This series gets better and better. I thought the whole idea of the security for the cash shipments for the new (at least then) cannabis industry in Colorado was great. It’s the kind of thing that was just waiting for a thriller writer to jump on, and Petrie took full advantage before anyone else saw it.

There’s a mano a mano fight at the end—fantastic. Just fantastic. There’s plenty of action before that—a chase scene, the ambush of the security team, and some others—just those would’ve been enough to make me commend and recommend this thriller. But that climactic combat? Just wonderful.

Like with Burning Bright, I lost sleep over this—and did not care. Solid (at least) action, an ingenious premise, good character development, some well-written and well-conceived antagonists (scratch that, they’re flat-out bad guys). There’s nothing to complain about here. Get your hands on this one.


4 1/2 Stars

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.

Bone Canyon by Lee Goldberg: Eve Ronin Digs Up Bones, Secrets and Ugly Truths in this Great Follow-Up

Bone Canyon

Bone Canyon

by Lee Goldberg
Series: Eve Ronin, #2

eARC, 288 pg.
Thomas & Mercer, 2021

Read: December 20-23, 2020
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!

What’s Bone Canyon About?

A wildfire was wiping out good swaths of L.A. County as the last novel wrapped up. Now, just a few weeks later, several things that were hidden pre-fire have been exposed—some of those things are human remains. Eve Ronin and her partner are called out to the site of one such discovery. They’re able to identify the remains, they belong to a young woman who’d reported being raped and soon disappeared six years previously.

Eve assumes there’s a link between the rape, disappearance, and her death. This is solidified when it’s determined the woman was murdered. Even if it proves untrue, she needs to start her investigation somewhere, so she starts by looking over the initial investigation and is less than impressed with the way it was handled. So, she plunges into re-investigating the rape and disappearance while also trying to get a handle on this murder. It’s not long before she’s getting pressured to drop the rape angle.

When another group of remains is found in the same general area—these belonging to an older woman, things get more complicated. How many murderers is she looking for?

Duncan “Dunkin’ Donuts” Pavone

I only gave Eve’s partner four sentences in my post about Lost Hills, I think I should’ve spent a little more time on him, I have a sneaking suspicion that he’s the secret weapon in this series. He seems like a Spenser’s Frank Belson-type (I have to admit I see Ron McLarty, TV’s Belson, in my mind during his scenes). He’s a slob, constantly covered in crumbs (donut or otherwise), cynical, seemingly lazy—but at heart a dedicated and good detective. Watching him at work in the interrogation room should be enough to make anyone doubt the image he projects.

When we first meet him, he’s got his eyes on his retirement date and is counting down to it, which is why he’s saddled with the homicide detective no one wants as a partner. He seems to tolerate Eve and will sprinkle some tips and cynicism her way. But that’s about it. By the end of the first novel, there’s more than toleration at work. By the time Bone Canyon opens, he’s really trying to mentor her, trying to guide her, and prepare her as much as possible for her future (not that he’s obvious about it, or even willing to admit it, but it’s there). In a lot of this novel, it’s clear that he cares for Eve as a partner, and is likely more concerned with the future of her career than she is. He won’t necessarily agree with all of her wild theories, but he’s at least willing to entertain them, to look for evidence to back them up.

It’s a nice shift, and if she can win Duncan over, there’s reason to hope that she can get others in the Department to work with her.

While I’d been hoping that Goldberg would find a way to keep him in the series after his retirement (somewhere around 100 days after this novel), I wasn’t sure he would. I guess I’m still not positive that he will, but Goldberg provided a way to do so. I’m relieved—Eve needs a cop she can trust in her life, even if he’s retired.

Which leads me to:

Cop or Politician?

Several times, superiors in the Sheriff’s office, a friendly D.A., and her own mother accuse Eve of playing political games with this case for her own career advancement. In Eve’s mind, she’s not making political moves for her own gain, but for the sake of the case. It’s all about justice for the victims, she insists. She doesn’t trust anyone in the Department, so she has to go at things in her own way.

Sure, she made some moves circumventing the chain of command to keep things moving, to prevent leaking and anyone stopping her. But she denies being overtly political about this, and only admits it in retrospect. Which I found a little odd, remembering something she thought about the Harry Bosch audiobook she was listening to in Lost Hills:

[Bosch’s] problem, she thought, was that he didn’t know how to play politics. She’d already proven that she could.

As much as Eve thinks of herself as a loner—due to circumstances forcing her into the role, rather than that being her nature—there are events here to teach her that ain’t necessarily true. She’s never going to win any popularity contests (Duncan will testify that she’s unlikeable), but if she pays attention, Eve’s going to find more allies. She doesn’t have to be Renée Ballard.

* We know she’s a Harry Bosch fan, I wonder what Eve thinks about Ballard.

…or Is She a Media Star in the Making?

The other thing that’s constantly being thrown at Eve is her social media stardom—the viral video that got her promoted into the Homicide Division was just the start. Someone leaked video of her heroics at the close of the previous novel which just compounded things for her. So many of her fellow detectives and deputies just assume she’s all about getting fame and glory for her own advantage (many of these people are just jealous and would do whatever they could to get a share of her fame so they could cash in on it). It’s truly the last thing she wants, unlike the other accusation.

Ironically, her family is pushing her to embrace this notoriety and cash in on it (mostly for their selfish benefit, not her good)—and both an agent and a TV Writer/Producer are circling her. Everyone’s telling her that a series/movie is going to happen no matter what, if she wants any influence on how it happens, she has to sign up.

Goldberg had already firmly established that this series takes place in the shadow of the Entertainment Industry, would-be actors, film crew members, bona fide stars, and others (like a fellow detective) wanting to get into the industry. So this subplot doesn’t feel out-of-place at all, it’s the world Eve Ronin deals in.

I really like this aspect of the story—as long as it doesn’t become too dominant—and watching Eve try to figure out how to use her notoriety to help (or at least, not hinder) her police work is as interesting as watching her figure out how to survive as a political animal.

Now, that’s a nice touch…

There’s a little treat for readers of Goldberg’s Ian Ludlow series. I loved it. But if you’re not reading that series, don’t worry, you won’t even realize that you missed something.*

* Still, I should take a beat to ask you why you aren’t reading the Ian Ludlow books. You should fix that. Click here to see what I’ve had to say about those.

So, what did I think about Bone Canyon?

This rocked. I think it was a step up from Lost Hills, which I’m pretty sure was the best thing Goldberg has written. He does all the same things that made Lost Hills a success and then progressed them a little bit. I raced through these pages—both because the prose invites you to and because I just had to see how it all ended.

Eve’s a great character—she’s flawed, she has a lot to learn, but she has potential as a detective and is driven to fulfill that potential. Her cases are twisty enough to keep you guessing and turning pages. and Goldberg’s writing is at his best.

I liked Lost Hills enough that pre-ordered this book as soon as I could, and have already done the same for the third book, knowing only its title (I’d buy books 4 and 5 right now, too, for what it’s worth). They’re that good—and I think you’ll likely agree. Jump on the Eve Ronin train, you’ll be in for a great ride.

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from Thomas & Mercer via NetGalley in exchange for this post—thanks to both for this, but aside from giving me something to opine about, this didn’t impact what I said.


4 1/2 Stars

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 expressed are my own.

Cooking for Cannibals by Rich Leder: An Ex-Con turned Cook, Experimental Drugs, Reverse Aging and a Gerontologist make for a Very Strange Crime Novel

Cooking for Cannibals

Cooking for Cannibals

by Rich Leder

eARC, 371 pg.
Laugh Riot Press, 2021

Read: December 15-17, 2020

Don’t Suspend Your Disbelief, Throw it into a Small, Locked Room Somewhere

The core premise of this book is hogwash. Scientifically impossible. Accept that and move on. Leder doesn’t try to dress it up in pseudo-scientific jargon or explanations, he just says this impossible-to-believe thing happened. The characters only believe it because of what’s in front of their eyes and make no attempt to explain it to each other, either. So pretend the universe works the way he needs it to for this story, and you can have a lot of fun.

If you can’t do that, don’t even bother picking it up. Sure, go ahead and buy it, Leder could use the sale, but don’t bother reading the book.

What’s Cooking for Cannibals About?

It’s about what happens when an ex-con gets his big break, a behavioral gerontologist who prefers rats to people takes a dramatic step, and a group of seniors embrace a second chance.

Carrie

Carrie is a behavioral gerontologist who’s working at a secret pharmaceutical laboratory coming up with a medication to combat the effects of aging. The results are phenomenal. Unbelievable—it actually appears to reverse the aging process to a degree. A significant degree.

On the weekends, Carrie works for the Copacabana, a “low rent rest home,” where her mother lives, and has grown close to a number of the residents. She can’t help but want to help them and steals the medication from the lab one night.

This sets almost everything else in motion.

Jimmy

Jimmy’s done time a couple of times—assault, burglary, that kind of thing. As a result of this, he can’t get a job unless he lies about his background. As soon as the truth comes out, he loses the job. While he’s trying to go straight, Jimmy can’t go for more than a few weeks without having to start over again, losing jobs and places he rents. He’s a “rockstar butcher” but wants to cook. He just can’t get the chance.

After his most recent dismissal/eviction, he’s given a tip about a job—there’s a retirement home in need of a cook, they provide room and board, in addition to a paycheck. This is everything he needs, if he can get the job. Which is where he meets Carrie, becomes smitten with her, and sees what happens to the residents there when they start using that medication.

Sadly, his new parole officer is determined to find him in violation of his parole for being fired/evicted and will send him back to prison. Unless, of course, Jimmy starts paying him a weekly bribe.

The Copa Crew

Carrie’s mother and her friends are the ones who make the decision to hire Jimmy after he wows them with his sample meals. And instantly, the reader enjoys them—there’s a great, familial interaction between them and it’s just charming. Once they start taking this medication? Well, they become even more entertaining.

The Fixer and the Cleaner

You can absolutely make the case that Carrie and Jimmy are their own antagonists (with some help from the Copa Crew), they’re just not cut out for this kind of thing. But formally, I guess we have to give that credit to the two bodies that funded the pharmaceutical experiments, as represented by the Fixer and the Cleaner, both in LA to make sure that no one finds out about the drug or that their employers had anything to do with any secret drug research.

The Fixer is a suave, calm, and collected Latino who enjoys creative ways of torture. The Cleaner is a Russian in love with Hollywood and all things American film (like poorly educated, heavily accented Chili Palmer), but he loves fire and burning things/people even more. Neither is the kind of guy you want to draw the attention of. Sadly, Carrie does (and because of that, so does Jimmy)

So these two come to LA to find the stolen pills, recover them, eliminate anyone who knows anything about the pills, and any other trace of them—records, people who’ve used or developed them, etc. (without realizing the other is doing the same). It’s their entrance into the story that gets everything really rolling. The question is simply, who will be alive after they’re done?

And sure, the California Legal System was also out there, looking into Jimmy and his activities. But comparatively speaking, that’s a pretty low worry.

Lecter-ish, but with a Sense of Humor

So, Cannibalism is in the title for a reason. Technically, yeah, there’s some cannibalism. But it’s not that anyone wants to eat humans, it’s just a side effect of the drug that the users become very hungry, and are not that selective where their meat comes from.

If it also turns out that eating human remains cleans up other problems by eradicating evidence? Well, that’s just a bonus.

It’s not grizzly, it’s not detailed—it’s also not justified. I think everyone involved is disgusted on some level. It’s simply they’re hungry and they have access to some well-cooked human remains.

The Two Styles of Rich Leder

This is the third novel I’ve posted about by Leder, and he seems to write two different types of books. There’s the McCall & Company series, which is a fairly straight-forward series about a would-be actress who takes over her father’s PI business after his death. It’s light fun in the vein of Stephanie Plum, but a little less wacky. I read the first book, and have intended to read the rest (my mother has read at least one, probably more, of the rest). Then there’s Let There Be Linda, a book I described as “strange, bloody, a little violent, and impossible to explain in a way that does it justice.” Which could really be said about this book, too.

It’s hard to see both of these coming from the same source. I don’t know if one’s necessarily superior to the other, but one’s a lot more marketable than the other, for sure. I’m not sure there’s a lot of overlap in the audiences for both, too. Linda and Cooking for Cannibals are marked by black comedy, one unbelievable occurrence being accepted as fact, and stories that are nigh-impossible to predict.

I do think this is largely more successful, and only slightly less imaginative, than Linda. Leder has a tighter focus on the narrative here, and it just makes the whole thing more compelling and interesting.

So, what did I think about Cooking for Cannibals?

Seriously, if you’re going to read one black comedy about anthropophagites this year, make it Cooking for Cannibals. As I wrote that, it occurred to me that late last year, I read another black comedy about anthropophagites. This is a pretty odd trend, but I can assure you that neither of them has had an impact on my diet.

There’s a lot of funny stuff in this novel. There are also few things with a pretty high “ick factor.” But what comes through most strongly? There’s a sweetness to the way that Jimmy, Carrie, and the Copa Crew interact. The relationship that springs up between Jimmy and Carrie is the focus, but there’s a nice connection between Jimmy and the people who give him his chance to cook (and they love his food), Carrie and her mother find another layer to their relationship in these pages, and so on. Sure the sweetness is buried underneath torture, killing, fire, rats, threats, and more—but it’s there.

The major note I had about the writing was that it felt like the concluding chapter ends 1-4 paragraphs too early. At least at the moment. But honestly, it’s the perfect conclusion to this story as it is. I just had to think about it for a couple of minutes first.

If you’re willing to give this kind of thing a shot, you’re going to have a pretty good time. Leder can pull off the outlandish ideas in a piece of Crime Fiction and it’s rewarding to see him do it.

If you read what I said, and you’re on the fence? You should probably avoid it.

Disclaimer: I received a copy of this novel from the author in exchange for this post and my honest opinion. While I appreciate it, my opinions are my own.


4 Stars

The Sentinel by Lee Child and Andrew Child: A New Era for the Series Kicks Off with this Presciently Timely Thriller

The Sentinel

The Sentinel

by Lee Child and Andrew Child
Series: Jack Reacher, #25

Hardcover, 351 pg.
Delacorte Press, 2020

Read: December 10-14, 2020
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!

“…Someone’s got to [help him].”

“And that someone’s you?”

“I guess so.”

“Why is that?”

Reacher shrugged again. “I’m the one who’s here.”

What’s The Sentinel About?

After a quick (and only slightly violent) stop in Nashville, Reacher finds himself in a smaller city, Pleasantville. Before he can even get a cup of coffee, Reacher sees a group of people act as if they’re about to abduct a man on the street. He stops it from happening and then finds himself arrested.

After he’s released, Reacher meets the man he rescued and they start to talk. His name is Rusty and he’s the freshly dismissed IT manager for the city. He was fired because the city was hit by a ransomware attack, which is crippling the city government and causing problems throughout Pleasantville. With only one or two exceptions, the entire populace hates him because of this, convinced that he had a role in the attack. Rusty’s determined to prove he had nothing to do with it, and if the city leaders had just listened to him, it all could be avoided. He just doesn’t have it all worked out about how he’ll do that.

Reacher, on the other hand, thinks more is going on. The people who tried to abduct Rusty aren’t disgruntled citizens, they were professionals. Why would professionals care about this? Reacher determines he has to stick around and get to the bottom of it.

Explosions, gunfire, and fisticuffs ensue as Reacher gets closer and closer to discovering what really went on, and hopefully clearing Rusty’s name.

A Trend that Needs to End

Reacher’s no Luddite, he just doesn’t care about technology/computers/the Internet/etc. When he has to, he can use them a little, but relying on them is just not in his makeup.

But last year’s Blue Moon, and this year’s The Sentinel hinge on cybercrimes (at least after a fashion). Which makes sense, this is what thrillers are about right now. But Reacher doesn’t belong in this world. He can get by—especially if he has help—but readers need a break from cybercrimes. We need a book or three of Reacher not needing to depend on someone and their laptop.

The Thing Everyone’s Talking About

Unless you’ve been living under a rock (which seems like a smart move in 2020, to be honest), you know that Lee Child has started backing away from writing and is handing over the reins to his brother Andrew. As part of that, the two co-wrote this book, a first for both (I believe).

So automatically you know (or at least you should), this is going to feel different than a typical Reacher novel (although, Lee Child’s been good about changing the flavor to one degree or another in each book). And it does—Reacher’s a bit talkier than we’re used to (although he still says nothing fairly often); the prose isn’t as sharp, as punchy; and so on. It’s not bad, it’s just not Lee Child (which ought to be patently obvious).

While it’s not strictly a Lee Child book, with his style, it’s still good. The plotting is as good as Child at his prime, the fights are as well choreographed and violent, and Reacher’s essence is unchanged. At the end of the day, Lee Child picked his successor (unlike Robert B. Parker, Ian Fleming, etc.), if he’s satisfied, I can get used to this new style (while Andrew Child catches his stride)

So, what did I think about The Sentinel?

Reacher’s general approach to driving was to find someone else to do it. He was capable of operating a vehicle, in a technical sense, The army had provided thorough training. He’d never killed anyone with a car. At least not by accident. He’d never had any collisions, Not unintentional ones. His problem was mainly one of temperament, Good driving called for a balance of action and reaction, speed and restraint, measurement and control. A middle ground, stable and sustained. Reacher on the other hand was built for extremes. His default was to move extremely slow or extremely fast. One moment he could appear languid, lazy, almost comatose. The next he could erupt into a frenzy of action, furious, relentless, for as long as necessary, then relapse into serene stillness until the next threat presented itself.

The Sentinel has all the things you need in a Reacher novel—an individual in need of help, a physical challenge (actually, one of the toughest I can remember for him), a truly evil antagonist (you’ll have multiple reasons to root against this guy), and plenty of justice for Reacher to mete out.

Is it Reacher at his best? No. But he hasn’t been at his best for a couple of years anyway. Is it Reacher that provides solid adventure? Yup. Even a mediocre Reacher is entertaining (and this isn’t at that point), it’s going to take Andrew a little bit to fit into his brother’s mold (or as close to it as he wants to go), I’m willing to let him figure out how to do that, and will jump back for #26 as soon as I can.


3.5 Stars2020 Library Love Challenge

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.

A Few Quick Questions with D. B. Borton

Can you describe your initial path to publication with these books, and why are you reissuing them now?

I had been reading a mystery featuring an older woman detective, and the stereotypical portrayal just made me angrier and angrier. I threw the book against the wall and told myself, “I can do better.”

I wrote the book and signed on with an agent, who told me that she’d found the first chapter so hilarious that she’d read it to her sister over the phone. A year passed and I didn’t hear anything from my agent. Meanwhile, my cherished 18-year-old feline companion died (the book is dedicated to her). The grief opened a hole in my life that swallowed everything, including my writing aspirations, and I asked myself why I’d ever thought anyone would want to read my writing. The day after I hit bottom, I pulled myself together, sniveled my way over to the bookstore, and bought a book called How to Write a Mystery. The next day, my long-lost agent called to say that she was very close to selling the book to Berkley. I think the same first chapter sold the book to my editor at Berkley, who, as it turned out, also edited the series about an older woman detective that had made me so angry to begin with.

The first chapter never appeared in the final book. In it, the 59-year-old protagonist got her period in a department store dressing room, and had an epiphany: if Mother Nature couldn’t provide her with the Change of Life, she would have to make her own change. Some early readers advised Berkley against including it.

As for why I’m reissuing the series now, the economics of independent publishing has a lot to do with it. Series tend to be more profitable than single books. That’s the economic answer. But this series has always inspired a strong loyalty in many readers, who seem to identify with the protagonist. Over the years, I’ve continued to receive the occasional inquiry from a fan (or a fan’s daughter) looking for a complete set.

The community that Cat builds (or finds building around her?) in the apartment that ends up giving assistance and support to her is a frequent feature in female P.I. novels. Is there a particular reason for that, what is it about a female P.I./P.I.-type protagonist that lends itself to that in a way that your typical male P.I. doesn’t? How did you pick your residents of Catatonia Arms?

Interesting question. Women have, of course, traditionally done the cultural work of community building, so I suppose their take on detective fiction reflects that. But when I think of the classic writers, that strong sense of community isn’t there. Miss Marple is strongly identified with St. Mary Mead, and she often finds mystery when she’s off visiting friends, but the recurring characters are few. Girl detectives, on the other hand, have been embedded in communities since the modern girl detective emerged in L. Frank Baum’s Mary Louise series. At first, girls weren’t taken seriously as readers (or purchasers of detective novels), but when they were, publishers wanted to reflect the experiences and interests of their readers. So like Nancy Drew, Bess, and George, girl detectives have always traveled in packs, or at least in pairs.

I’m not really sure how I picked the residents of the Catatonia Arms, except to say that they all bring special knowledge and skills with them. Adding a retired cop at the end of the first book really completed that skill set while giving Cat an older ally against the young people.

There are a number of characters I’d like to ask you about, but I’m going to limit myself to Phyl Stinger, was there a particular historical inspiration for her? If not, just where did she come from?

I guess she’s a composite of several Hollywood screenwriters I’d read about and my imagination — writers like Frances Marion, Anita Loos, and June Mathis. I imagined that they’d have to have been tough as nails to survive in Hollywood.

I loved the way that Cat drew from her reading to guide her through her investigation/expectations of the P.I. job/wardrobe. Unless I’m mistaken, Spenser was the most prominent source of inspiration—is that because of something about the character himself, or given the time period, was he just the easiest to reference? Is there someone you wanted to work in a reference to, but couldn’t quite fit in?

I’d say that Robert B. Parker was a big influence on me.  He’s a male writer who created the kind of community you were talking about around his male P.I. Spenser. The Spenser books have a lot of heart, and they’re very funny. Later books in the series reference other fictional detectives, like Kinsey Millhone, V. I. Warshawski, and Kinky Friedman.

Let’s play “Online Bookstore Algorithm” (a game I’ve recently invented). What are 3-5 books whose readers may like One for the Money?

Oh, I like this game! As someone who’s always looking for comparable authors for advertising purposes, I’d love to hear what other people would say. A recent reviewer said that fans of Dorothy Gilman’s Mrs. Pollifax and Sue Grafton’s Kinsey Millhone would like it, and I’d agree. Also fans of Elizabeth Peters’s Amelia Peabody and, of course, Christie’s Miss Marple. Jana Deleon’s Miss Fortune series features some older women detectives who are a lot of fun.

What’s next for D. B. Borton?

I’ve been working on a standalone about a librarian who inherits a fortune, a valuable library, and a dangerous mission to return a handful of library books. I’m also planning to reissue the rest of the Cat Caliban books. And I’ve started thinking about a new Cat Caliban.

Thanks for your time, and this fun read, I’m looking forward to working my way through the rest of the series


One for the Money by D. B. Borton: This Would-Be Gumshoe Gets By on Her Charm, Wit, Gumption, Friends and a Healthy Dose of Expletives

Later this morning, I’ll be posting a Q&A with the author–be sure to check it out.

One for the Money

One for the Money

by D. B. Borton
Series: Cat Caliban, #1

eARC, 224 pg.
Boomerang Books, 2020

Read: December 1-3, 2020
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!

What’s One for the Money About?

Cat Caliban’s a recent widow, who is ready for a change (since she is still waiting on the Change), and takes the bull by the horn and gets herself her change. She buys an apartment complex, moves herself and her cats into one of the apartments there, and pursues a new career—becoming a Private Investigator. Between the suspicious nature and investigative abilities raising three kids has gifted her with and the extensive research she’s done into the P.I. lifestyle (read: reading plenty of P.I. Novels, from Nancy Drew to V. I. Warshawski).

Most of her kids, and most people from her old life, don’t approve of this new stage of her life—and she could not care less. Instead, she assembles a new group of friends who are on board with this change—with one carryover from her old life. And the tenants of her apartments end up being a strong base for those friends.

Of course, there’s a snag there—when showing a vacant apartment to a couple of potential renters, they discover a murdered woman. Almost immediately, Cat begins annoying the investigating officers by trying to look into the death herself. When it’s discovered that the victim is a homeless woman, the priority that the police put on solving the murder drops, but Cat’s drive to find justice for the woman increases.

Sure, she’s still learning the basics of investigating, but she catches a couple of lucky breaks and makes good progress. She also connects with people—friends of the victim, people she worked with, an activist group she was involved with, and someone who probably saw the victim and the killer minutes before the murder—in a way that the police don’t. People respond to this older woman who cares about the woman—not just her death, but the life she led.

One thing leads to another, and Cat’s hot on the trail of both the killer and what could have prompted the killing in the first place.

I’m a Sucker for this Kind of Thing

I am a sucker for fictional PI/PI-types who largely (or entirely) learn their way through detecting via PI novels like Lee Goldberg’s Harvey Mapes (in The Man With The Iron-On Badge, now called Watch Me Die) or Jim Cliff’s Jake Abraham (in The Shoulders of Giants)—Bobby Saxon, from The Blues Don’t Care, took a similar approach with Bogart movies.

Maybe it’s because this is the kind of detective I would be if I had the gumption to try. At the very least I can easily identify with these people, they’ve read the same things I’ve read. We think along the same lines. Watching them draw upon their fictional examples to try to decide how to deal with their cases is just fun.

Naturally, Cat (and Borton), get extra credit from me for the number of times they invoke Spenser. But it works no matter what character she’s referencing.

The Supporting Cast

Cat’s the focus—and she should be—but she wouldn’t be anywhere without the other characters that she bumps up against (we’ll ignore the principles/suspects in the investigation). The book might still be good with just Cat and the suspects, but what frequently makes a book worth reading are the secondary and tertiary characters—and Borton fills the novel with people worth reading about.

The people that fall into her life in this novel almost seem too convenient—wow, Cat makes a friend who happens to be able to help her learn to shoot. One of the first people she rents an apartment to happens to be a lawyer who can help her get through the city’s legal system, what a crazy coincidence! But once you shrug that off (what novel isn’t filled with that kind of thing)

There’s an elderly screenwriter character who is a delight. She adds a crucial detail or two that Cat needs to put everything together, but more than anything else, she’s just fun to read. Borton brings in a few characters like that—they’re around for one or two conversations, but it feels like Borton spent as much time and energy into developing the character for those conversations as she did for the killer or one of the other prime suspects.

I want to talk about the witness to the crime—and his family—but I just don’t think I can do them justice without ruining something. But Borton’s choices in including him, and the way she did so, are a real strength of the novel.

Even the cats are well-written and likable (long-time readers of this site will recognize how odd that is for me to say)

So, what did I think about One for the Money?

Last year, I wrote about Luna Miller’s The Lion’s Tail (apparently now called Looking for Alice), about a sexagenarian rookie P.I. Sure, Gunvor Strom is a little older than Cat, and the novel’s darker—but it’s along the same lines.* I really appreciated the way that neither of these women are allowing themselves to be held back by their age, their sex, their past—their utter lack of experience—they can make a difference, they have something to contribute, and they have the drive.

* I mostly bring it up in case readers are asking themselves, didn’t he talk about this before? Also, because readers of one of these are really going to want to read the other.

Cat and the team she assembles do the one thing the police are unwilling/unable to do: they can focus on the victim and her life to the exclusion of all else. She can get people to talk to her who wouldn’t talk to the police out of principle or intimidation. They open up to her, they tell her things they wouldn’t tell others.

She’s also smart enough and driven enough to keep going until the facts she uncovers fit together in a way that makes sense.

And Borton delivers all this in an engaging, easy style that makes you want to keep turning the pages. It’s a fun story, with a great group of characters that you can’t help but root for, and you not only want to find out what happens but you want to know what happens next. I’ll be back for the rest as soon as I can, but in the meantime, I’m glad I got to read this one and think you will be, too.

Disclaimer: I received a copy of this novel from the author in exchange for my honest opinion and this post.


3.5 Stars

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.

A Few More Quick Questions with Gray Basnight

Not only do I really appreciate Basnight’s taking the time to do this, but Lisa Weiss, the publicist who got me this book has been very helpful and encouraging. I wanted to thank her, too. This is one of the best sets of Answers I’ve received to my Questions, I hope you enjoy it, too.

The last time we did a Q&A, you said you were finishing a sequel to Flight of the Fox, I assume it was this, what was it about Sam Teagarden that made you want to write a sequel about him (an idea that Sam himself jokes about)? Is there a third book for the professor?

There are two reasons Sam Teagarden puts in this reappearance in Madness of the Q.  The first was reader feedback.  In fact, this sequel is dedicated to those readers who wanted another roller coaster ride with my mathematics professor, who’s dubbed by the media as the “American Prometheus.”

The second reason is the Q Document.  The inspiration for the story came several years ago while listening to a Great Courses audio lecture about the New Testament.  When the professor casually mentioned something called the Quelle Document (German for “Source”) as being a theorized long missing source for parts of Matthew and Luke, I pegged onto it as a potential “what if” fictional scenario.  What if The Quelle Document were discovered in our time.  And an even bigger “what if’ — what if the document said something from the founding days of Christianity that certain groups didn’t want it to say, and what if it said something that certain opposing groups did want it to say?  Well, my guess is that all hell would break loose.  So, in Madness of the Q, it does – fictionally, of course!

As for a third book, we shall see.  If there’s sufficient demand from readers and/or the publisher, I’ll certainly consider it.  I do have a nascent idea.  All I will say is, I like Puerto Rico and perhaps there’s a reason for Teagarden to end up there.  It’s a wonderful and adventurous island filled with good people, good food, and plenty of potential for a fictional thriller.

What kind of research went into this book? What’s the one thing you learned and, try as you might, you just couldn’t bring into the book?

Once I learned about the Q Document, I began reading up on the theory that it might actually have existed but was lost, and may someday be found.  Not all biblical scholars agree, of course.  But those who believe that it is an extant missing source for two of the Synoptic Gospels are both faith based and secular based, which intrigued me.

I also re-read a wonderful book first published in 1841 and still in print today.  Extraordinary Popular Delusions and the Madness of Crowds by Charles Mackay is occasionally called the first pop-psych book to explore crowd think.  It dovetailed nicely with my “all hell breaks loose” theme, so I wove it into the title and quoted Mackay as the epigraph:

Men, it has been well said, think in herds;
it will be seen that they go mad in herds,
while they recover their senses slowly,
and one by one.

As for what was left on the cutting room floor, I felt a need to have Teagarden’s spouse Cynthia, be more of a partner.  They met in Flight of the Fox and she became an important ally in many ways.  Unfortunately, she couldn’t join him in the sequel because he’s on a solo run through Israel and Europe and there was no way around that.  Thus, I invented imaginary conversations between the two to help him get through the roughest days, and justified the technique as a product of his stress.  Thus far, most reader feedback has been positive with this approach.

I think most of us readers can guess some of these, but would you talk about the challenges in featuring someone of Teagarden’s age in a thriller (particularly those you didn’t expect)?

You mean the fact that he’s older than the average thriller protagonist?  Yes, indeed.  He turned 50 in Flight of the Fox which makes him 56 in Madness of the Q.  

The principal challenge is to convince the reader that someone of that age is still sufficiently vigorous to take on dark forces.  This is important to me.  The older I get, the more convinced I am of an age bias built into American culture and our collective way of thinking (to which I was admittedly guilty of in my younger years).

Sam is however highly qualified for the job in both thrillers.  His first gig out of college was a desk job at the CIA as an entry-level code analyst.  It was so boring he quit after one year.  He then became a mathematics professor who is highly skilled in the art of encryption and decryption.

Aside from his age, Teagarden does not have a black belt and knows very little about firearms.  So, both his age and his lack of fighting skills may challenge a reader’s expectation of the formulaic run-for-your-life character.

I intentionally made all these choices to construct a character far less Jason Bourne and more of an Everyman.  If readers are unbothered by his age, I’ve succeeded.  If readers who are a little bothered by his age but stick with the narrative because the momentum carries them to its conclusion, I’ve still succeeded.

There’s a time jump between the two books, putting this one into our near future. How fun was it speculating about 2025 tech—and how hard was it not to go too crazy with it?

It was great fun.  I have no desire to be a sci-fi writer, so there was no difficulty in not getting carried away.  But I really enjoy casting into the near-term future and imagining where foreseeable technology is going based on where it has been.

For example, God Glasses.  In the story, God Glasses allow a type of Superman x-ray vision.  That may not happen anytime soon, but we already have the technology for video cameras to be built into eyeglass frames.

Another is public pop-ups.  Web based pop-up ads annoy me, umm, a whole lot.  It happens because neither the advertiser nor the website proprietor cares about the irritation factor – and for plenty of people, it’s an exasperating reality but one they mostly just accept.  Given that, let’s get ready for the same to happen in public.  In the novel, Sam Teagarden and his wife have researched airfare to the Bahamas.  Later, when he’s on a public sidewalk, the wi-fi gear attached to a giant billboard reads the credit card in his wallet and suddenly Sam’s image and name appear on the billboard as the advertiser stalks his movements in the effort to sell him a trip to the Bahamas.  If this ever happens in reality, pro-privacy forces will naturally object.  I’m certain, however, they’ll lose that fight because the vast majority of people will find it really cool to see their mug on a billboard, even if only for a few seconds.

Let’s play “Online Bookstore Algorithm” (a game I’ve recently invented). What are 3-5 books whose readers may like Madness of the Q?

Well, I’m going to share the books mentioned by several of the early reviewers, and the ones that inspired me to try my hand at thrillers:

  • Robert Ludlum’s Bourne series
  • Dan Brown’s Langdon series
  • Eye of the Needle and The Key to Rebecca, by Ken Follett
  • Name of the Rose, by Umberto Eco 

And I’d be remiss for not giving a humble plug to the prequel:

  • Flight of the Fox, by Gray Basnight (that’s me!)

What’s next for Gray Basnight? Any progress on that YA novel you mentioned before?

Thank you so much for asking about my YA!  I love it and remain committed to its commercial prospects.  Authoritative persons have recently advised me that it likely fits more neatly into Middle Grade, which means substantial rewriting, including the need to adjust the age of Junior Benét, the central character – a schoolgirl with a genius IQ who gets caught up in a dangerous adventure in New York City.

Presently I’m working on a crime novel, though I’m not sure how to classify it with more specificity.  It’s drawn from my appreciation of both Quentin Tarantino and Elmore Leonard and my love for the classic Sergio Leone movie The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.  When finished, it will likely have emphatic elements of humor and romance.  And, by the way, it too is set about five years into the future.

Thanks for your time — and thanks for some more time with Sam Teagarden, I really enjoyed it, and hope you have plenty of success with it.

Thank you so much for this Q&A.  Great questions and lots of fun to spend time with you again.


Madness of the Q by Gray Basnight Left Me Ambivalent (I didn’t dislike it, but…)

I’ve got a Q&A with Gray Basnight coming up later this morning—come back to check it out. I haven’t read it yet (didn’t want it to impact what I wrote), but trust that it’ll be interesting in light of what I say below.

Madness of the Q

Madness of the Q

by Gray Basnight
Series: Sam Teagarden, #2

eARC, 368 pg.
Down & Out Books, 2020

Read: November 23-30, 2020
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!

What’s Madness of the Q About?

Simply put, it’s the further adventures of professor Sam Teagarden following his uncovering of a large conspiracy within the FBI in 2018’s Flight of the Fox. In the six years since then, a slight mythology has built up around him—he’s got a reputation as one who’ll bring the truth to the world—when all he wants to do is teach math and spend time with his wife.

But it’s his reputation that brings him into the middle of this particular situation. One group wants someone like him to bring information to the forefront of the world, no matter the cost. Another group is afraid of people like him and targets him for assassination before he even knows that there’s something to be exposed to the world. But the FBI catches wind about this before the assassin makes an attempt and saves his life. They also would like him to be involved in a current case, his reputation alone should make things calmer.

What’s the case? Well, the previously theoretical “Q” document (a theoretical source—along with the Gospel of Mark—for the Gospels of Matthew and Luke) has possibly been discovered. Not only that, but there’s a lot of speculation that something big has been discovered in the text itself that wasn’t used by Matthew or Luke and may shake the foundation of religious groups around the world.

It’s been some time since the document was discovered, but now it’s been translated and decoded. The contents are set to be revealed to the world, and on the verge of that, there’s been a rash of mass suicides throughout the world by Christian-ish groups.

Teagarden’s barely gotten involved when his group in Israel are attacked and he goes on the run, trying to get safely to Germany in time for the conference that will feature the unveiling of this document that may be Q.

Will he make it? Will he be able to bring the truths hidden for millennia to light? Are there truths contained at all? These questions and more are dealt with alongside the thrill-ride.

Yeah, that’s a little longer than I usually spend on these sections, but it’s that kind of plot.

What Parts Really Worked for Me?

There’s a lot about this book to commend—for starters, the way that it talks about the “legend” around Teagarden following the events of Flight of the Fox. It felt very real, very authentic—he’s a folk hero to some and a folk villain to others.

Also, there’s the tech from 2025—there’s just a lot of little touches to make the world feel slightly advanced—and slightly annoying. Authentically so, I should add. There are some cool moves forward in technology, and they come with costs to things like privacy. There’s a great temptation to ignore everything else about the book and do a deep dive on this stuff—missing the forest for a few trees, but Basnight did a good enough job with these trees that it’d be fun.

The best part of this book is watching Teagarden at work—instead of making his way down the Eastern seaboard in the States, he’s making his way north from Israel through Italy to Germany. An older math professor, not in the best of health, is just fun to watch in this kind of role. There are a handful of times when it’s not him running, it’s Teagarden going toe-to-toe with someone set on doing him harm, too. I loved them all, his approach (and the way Basnight depicts this approach) are some of the most entertaining passages I’ve read in thrillers this year.

What Didn’t Work For Me?

Everything to do with the Q document and the reactions of various Christian groups, cults, and others to it. I’d have to get into details that are both spoilerific and too detailed for a post like this to adequately describe my problems. But I don’t see a cult caring about the results of textual examination from something found in an archeological dig from Israel. I’m not that sure that a Pentecostal Snake Handling group is going to care that much, either. Nor do I see other Christian groups being driven to suicide because of the initial results of a translation from a very disputed text.

I know people who engage in Biblical textual criticism, and I’ve read a little bit on the serious end of popular works on the subject, and I’m sorry, it just doesn’t work this way. It’s not the kind of field where a bombshell discovery is going to come to light and the entire discipline is instantly changed. It’s going to be debated, dissected, wrangled with, and then maybe, things will shift*. I get that it’s fiction, but I just couldn’t swallow any of this as hard as I tried.

* This assumes that something like Basnight’s Q Document actually exists (or that the actual Q exists and says something like his)

The Big Theme

The one part of the religious aspect of the book that appealed to me was the discussion of faith, of devotion, of commitment on the part of both the religious and the anti-religious (the non-religious among humanity didn’t really factor into things, this was a pro vs. con kind of thing). There’s a group at work in this novel with the aim of eliminating all religion, all theism, throughout the world—and they are devout. Seriously devout. Contrasting these “true believers” with ardent religious people is striking, and deserves some thought. It reminded me of the article “Atheists Are Sometimes More Religious Than Christians” from The Atlantic a couple of years ago, but coming at it from a different angle.

So, what did I think about Madness of the Q as a Whole?

I’m really not sure what to say here. I thought about this a lot while I read it, and have thought about it a lot since I finished—both the details and the themes. And I’m still not sure. I dug the thriller aspects of it, the tech, the character of Sam Teagarden and when the book leaned into those aspects, I was happy. When the foundation—Q and the groups wanting to use the document for their own ends (or those despairing what they thought it might way)—was the focus, I had a hard time pushing on.

I liked (and gave 4 Stars to) the previous Sam Teagarden book. I would absolutely read a third novel featuring him (but I might hesitate if it seems to be in a Robert Langdon-ish vein again). But I just don’t know what to say about this one. It’s going to stay with me longer than books I’ve been very positive about this year—it’s definitely stayed with me longer than books I didn’t like this year. But I’m not sure I can give it a recommendation or a pan. I don’t like just giving a shrug when trying to say what I think about a book, but I think that’s where I am.

Disclaimer: I received a copy of this novel from the author in exchange for my honest opinion and this post.

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.

Criminal Collective by Russell Day: Great stories about People at Their Worst

Criminal Collective

Criminal Collective

by Russell Day

Paperback, 268 pg.
2020

Read: November 16-20, 2000

Murder is just another service the nation’s capital has to offer. Like any service industry, you get what you pay for. Less than a grand, in some quarters, will buy you a thug with a baseball bat and a good swing. And at no extra cost they’ll usually tell all their friends about it then spill their guts to the police, once they’re hauled into an interview room.

Creating a dead body is the easy bit. Making it vanish, without questions, now, that’s skilled work. If you pay the extra, someone like me will make the body, the evidence and any troublesome connections melt away, like snow in a heatwave.

What’s Criminal Collective About?

This is a collection of shorter stories from Russell Day, one of my favorites in Crime Fiction. There’s really not much more that I can say, but it seems to brief to move on at this point, so let me just steal from the back of the book:

Do you struggle to know the best place to bury a dead gambler?

Do health care professionals laugh at your attempts to fake a slipped disc?

Do your weapons choices leave you embarrassed at punishment beatings?

If the answer is yes, then Criminal Collective is the book for you! Nineteen stories, each one written to help navigate the tricky etiquette of being a scumbag in the 21st century.

Never again be left nonplussed by the rules of Roadkill Roulette!

Never again mistake your German Virgins for your Automatic Nuns!

Never again leave your fingerprints on a golok!

Criminal Collective! Permanent solutions in an uncertain world.

Doc Slidesmith and Yakky

All the troubles I’ve had over the years have been handed to me by the living not the dead.

There are three Doc Slidesmith stories (one might be novella-length, I’m bad at judging that). For me, these are the highlight of the collection—one of my highlights of the year (have I mentioned how much I love Slidesmith?).

There’s “The Tattooist, The Tarot, and Bang-Bang the Clown,” in which someone ducks into the wrong shop while running from the cops. That was plenty of fun. Then there’s “Not Talking Italics,” which I wrote about two years ago, and loved just as much this time around. Seriously, a short story should not be this good.

The novella (or so) piece is called “Coming Up with a Because (A Game for Three Payers). The three players are A Tattooist, A Nurse and A Solider and we focus on each of these in rotation as the novella tells what happens when a figure from Doc’s past comes looking for a favor. I spent more than a few pages convinced I was a step or two ahead of Doc. That was a mistake. I’m tempted to go on and on here, but it’d just be the ravings of a fanboy…

Doc Slidesmith—you won’t find an amateur sleuth smarter or more enjoyable to read about.

SF Stories

There are two stories that are a SF/Crime Fiction hybrid. Neither of them did much for me. Not that either were bad, I just didn’t connect with them. I’m betting if I tried them again in a couple of months, they’d click with me.

However, both made a reference to the “protein wars.” I’d love to read a story/novel/series about them, the idea intrigues me.

So, what did I think about Criminal Collective?

“I never wanted a different life, Dad,” Liam said. “I was trying to change who I was. I wanted to be someone who wanted the life I had.”

I’ve read that line a few times since I read that story. I think I’m going to have to read it a few more to fully digest it.

There was one other story besides the SF ones that didn’t wow me. All three were okay, though. Not a bad one in the bunch. And the highs more than made up for the not-very lows.

Some of these elicited chuckles, some were disturbing (I mean, put the book down and think about something else for a bit disturbing*), there were a few that had an emotional punch that seemed out of balance compared to the brevity of the story—which speaks to how quickly Day can pull the reader in, and get you invested in some pretty unsavory characters.

* That’s not an exaggeration.

I’d love to talk about some of the stories in detail, but to do so would involve spoiling them—but if you get this book as you should, you’re in for a real treat when it comes to “Click. Size Zero. Delete”, “Reduced to Clear”, and “Colon: Full Stop” in addition to the Doc Slidesmith stories.

As always, Day’s ability with voice and style is at the forefront here—it’d be easy to believe that nineteen authors contributed to this anthology rather than one author creating nineteen distinct voices.

Basically this was a treat from beginning to end, and as always when it comes to Russell Day, I strongly recommend this and encourage you to pick it up.


5 Stars

EXCERPT from The Man in Milan by Vito Racanelli

Earlier this morning, I talked about the book, and now I get to give you a little taste—the opening paragraphs, I hope it hooks you the way it did me.


from Chapter 1 of The Man in Milan by Vito Racanelli (available from Polis Books)

Friday

In the gutter lay a man, face up, between two parked SUVs on Sutton Street. He wore a pale gray suit with impossibly thin pinstripes. It was Zegna, because I’d seen one on my partner, Detective Hamilton P. Turner. The suit was still in good shape, a testament to its workmanship, but the man was not.

I squatted and looked at him in the evening of an April day. I put on my latex and turned him gently. Our fashionable boy wore no tie and his pink shirt had a large red-brown blotch right where his heart used to beat. His suit was ruined in the back, an exit hole right through the trapezius. That’s what the coroner’s report would probably say.

He was about six feet, one inch. Skinny, with fine brown hair, blue- gray eyes. glauco, they say in Italian, which is what the body turned out to be. My grandfather was called Glauco for his eyes. This guy was good looking. Once. No sign of a struggle. Two wounds: a dime-sized hole punched through the back of the head and one more straight into the chest—probably the second shot as he lay prone—to make sure he stayed all the way dead. Below, burrowed halfway into the asphalt, was a slug.

The blues who’d found him already radioed for the NYPD photogs and CSU.

I walked back to my car to call my partner, who’d hadn’t told me why he couldn’t come along to the party. “I’m good,” I said to Turner. “You’re missing a beautiful spring evening in New York City, marred only by one dead body.”

His voice crackled over the radio: “Just the one? Gonna rain later. Meet you back at the precinct, Paolino,” Turner said.

I tossed the receiver back into our Crown Vic’s front seat and walked back to the body. Turner liked to call me little Paul because I was taller than him.

 

The photogs showed up and cordoned off the area around the body.

“Any other bodies, Detective Rossi?” the photographer asked me.

“I told you, one. Why does everyone think there’s more than one?” I said.

“Yeah, but you know, sometimes you think there’s one and then other bodies just start showing up when you look around. They’re like rabbits.”

I smiled at our photographer, Joe Rinn. He had a nice sideline doing weddings. “You never tell those brides what you do, do you? That you flash dead bodies all day. That your work graces medical school books about fatal wounds?”

“Nah,” he said, smiling back at me, then turning to the job at hand. “I tell ’em I’m an artist.”

I stood back and let the artist work. I tugged my right ear, tilted my head to get another look at this guy, and wondered what this poor fucker had done to deserve a dog’s death.

Rinn circled the body like a vulture. “The geeks’ll be here in a minute. And hey, a Post guy is comin’, too. He asked me to keep the bodies fresh.”

“A body. One body. We’ll try to oblige, but if the fourth estate doesn’t show in time, tough,” I said.

After they took the first set of photos, the CSU geeks began. Hair, blood, and nail samples. They scraped his jacket, pants, and shirts with tape to pick up foreign elements, like someone else’s hair or blood.

I looked around to figure some possible MOs. There was a small service alcove down a few steps and a few feet away. Our hunter knew his rabbit’s habits. Maybe tailed him for a few days. He waited in the alcove and calmly skipped up to the victim as he walked between a Range Rover and an Escalade. That gave the shooter some tall cover, and then he did him. Bang. Bang. Or rather Ping, Ping, with a silencer. The killer had probably taken care after the first shot to lay the body down, so that they were partially obscured, on Sutton near 51st. And that’s when he—or they—popped him a second time. His head, inches from the curb, was near enough that his blood had drained into the sewer nearby. Just when you think you’ve seen it all.

The body came conveniently with docs, a small black address book and an Italian identity card wrapped in a soft, dark brown leather case— Gaitano Muro, forty-six years old and a Milan address, so immediately I thought Mafia. Even the stupidest perp knows not to leave docs in a fixit job. The killer must have been spooked immediately and had to run. This was a botched execution. Two kill shots to rob someone? Not likely.

The address book had names and phone numbers but little else. No addresses. The ID was diplomatic, Capo Servizio something or other, Consolato Generale della Repubblica Italiana, it said, with an embossed little star inside an olive branch and a mechanical gear wheel. My Italian wasn’t bad thanks to my grandfather. Muro was a diplo and Signore Muro from Milan came all the way to New York City and found unexpectedly that this late April evening would be the least lucky night he was ever to have, and he was dropped in the gutter on Sutton St. I suppose there are worse streets to die on.

I’d bet it wasn’t the way he thought it would go. Nobody ever does.

.

Excerpted The Man in Milan Copyright © 2020 by Vito Racanelli Reprinted with permission from the author. All rights reserved


Read the rest in The Man in Milan by Vito Racanelli to see what happens from here.

Thanks to Polis Books, Vito Racanelli and Saichek Publicity for this excerpt!

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