THE BLACK ICE - Book review

Michael Connelly’s second Harry Bosch novel The Black Ice was published in 1993 and it fulfils the promise of his first, The Black Echo. Subsequent books do not feature ‘black’ in their titles...

There was a corpse in an LA motel room and it appeared to be a missing narc cop, Cal Moore. Bosch wasn’t invited but attended anyway. It appears to be a suicide – Moore is suspected of crossing over into the criminal fraternity. Detective Bosch isn’t so sure...

The writing is authoritative, putting the reader in the scene. ‘There had been a Streamline Moderne office building that looked like an ocean liner docked next to the motel. It had set sail a long time ago and another mini-mall was there now’ (p11).

Connelly has a way with description, too. ‘... he stood out like a garbage man at a wedding’ (p24). And: ‘The gloom in the squad room was thicker than cigarette smoke in a porno theatre’ (p44). And: ‘He saw the kind of man not many people approached unless they had to’ (p89). And: ‘It was a place to drink mean, as long as you had the green’ (p127).

The characters are distinctive, some good, some unpleasant, some bad. I particularly liked the part-Chinese Mexican Aguila: a very sympathetic fellow. Bosch’s humanity shines through, as does his stubbornness. Needless to say, he’s a great creation – testified by the number of books and a successful long-running TV series.

It seems that Moore had been looking into the movement of a drug called Black Ice from Mexico to LA when he died. Bosch’s investigations take him via the autopsy performed by his on-off bed-mate pathologist Teresa Corazón, through many dives frequented by drunks, to a town across the border, via a grisly bullfight. The more he digs, he’s sure something is being concealed. Corruption is part of it, as well.

Then there are all those damned flies... Fascinating insider knowledge – and a twist ending – make this a police procedural book with a difference.

Next Bosch: The Concrete Blonde.

Editorial comment:

We all make mistakes, me included. Anyway, here are a couple of rare occurrences: ‘He sipped it before speaking’ (p39) and then further down the same page, ‘She handed him a mug of coffee’. It should have read ‘She sipped...’

Bosch’s boss Pounds is talking about another cop, Porter. Then we get: ‘Porter looked exasperated’ (p50) – but it should be Pounds who is exasperated...

No Witnesses - Book review

Ridley Pearson’s 1994 thriller No Witnesses doesn’t disappoint. I’ve yet to encounter one of his books that doesn’t deliver.

Homicide detective sergeant Lou Boldt is approached by an old associate, the police department’s forensic psychologist, Daphne Matthews. Her boyfriend Owen Adler is a multi-millionaire in the food supply business. Adler has been receiving threatening faxes full of hate. He has been told not to go to the police. So Daphne wants Boldt to investigate clandestinely.

The threats turn out to be real and deadly, starting with a supermarket tin of soup at one of the Adler supermarkets; one victims dies from poisoning, the other is seriously ill.

So begins a cat-and-mouse case, where the clues are small and frustrating; but fortunately Boldt is meticulous and no small detail is overlooked.

Several aspects of this police procedural set it above many of its contemporaries, the humanity, the detail, the pace and the insider knowledge. 

Boldt is businesslike but humane, despite the lowlifes he has to contend with:

‘Any homicide cop felt the pain and suffering of the victims and their relatives – no matter how callous to the crime scenes he or she became, no matter how quick the one-liners, and how easy it was to move on to another case. The tragedy of the Crowley family had deeply affected everyone…’ (p338).

And then there’s the suspense. Pearson has the enviable knack of ratcheting up the tension in more than one encounter. You’re there, you can feel the threat, the anxiety. Daphne, Adler and his daughter are in jeopardy; and Boldt is convinced there’s somebody in the department aiding the deranged blackmailer.

There’s humour, inevitably, some of it dark. One instance: They want to track down the withdrawals of the ransom money – it’s being done via the city’s ATMs, a few thousand dollars at a time. The bank boss, Lucille confronts a technician, Ted Perch, asking for his help. ‘… Perch looked a little hurt. She knew more than he did, and he did not like that. And if he tried to look up her skirt one more time, Boldt was going to say something about it…’ Later, after technical talk with Boldt, ‘Lucille recrossed her legs and Perch didn’t even notice. That was when Boldt knew he had him.’ (p160) Had Perch hooked, in fact.

It’s  a little out-dated now, due to the advances of technology, but that doesn’t spoil the tale at all. You’re there, in 1994, sweating it out with other cops in Seattle.

Oh, and there’s a neat twist near the satisfying end, too.

An interview

Here's an interview which has just been posted online:

http://mxpublishing.tumblr.com/post/178408884643/the-mx-book-of-new-sherlock-holmes-stories

Best wishes

Nik

Book review - Leviathan (Erast Fandorin #3)

Boris Akunin’s third Erast Fandorin adventure Leviathan was published in 1998, English translation from the Russian by Andrew Bromfield, 2004.  I read and enjoyed his first adventure, The Winter Queen in October, 2004. The second book in the series is The Turkish Gambit.

Fandorin started out as a police detective, and then worked for the secret police, and in this book he’s a diplomat, destined for service in Japan.

Leviathan possesses several idiosyncratic features. It begins with notes from French police commissioner Gauche’s file, regarding the mass murder of ten individuals in a Parisian mansion. Then there’s a medical report concerning the deaths – all but one being poisoned. A statuette of the Indian god Shiva was stolen, together with a painted shawl. The owner of the house, Lord Littleby was bludgeoned to death. Next, we have two press cuttings – one of which reveals that the statuette is found… A single clue suggests that the murderer would be a passenger on the luxury British steamship Leviathan sailing from Southampton to Calcutta. Gauche booked passage.

Gauche deduces that the criminal he seeks is one of the following: Sir Reginald Milford-Stokes, exhibiting signs of mental aberration; Mr Aono, a Japanese nobleman, silent and diffident; Mrs Renate Kleber, a pregnant wife of a Swiss banker en route to join her husband; Miss Clarissa Stamp, a newly rich English spinster; Mr Truffo, the ship’s chief physician; Mr Sweetchild, an opinionated Indologist; Mr Boileau, a tea trader and philanthropist; and, finally, the Russian diplomat, Fandorin.

The story is told from the point of view of a number of characters: Gauche himself (third person narrative), Milford-Stokes writing first person to his absent wife, Renate Kleber and Clarissa Stamp (both third person), Mr Aono (printed in two columns sideways on, no doubt to suggest the first person diary entries are written in Japanese [gimmicky, but not distracting]).

To be expected, there are other deaths and suspicion builds. There are revelations, and some poignant tales to tell. Gauche comes across as a bombastic self-important detective (‘It was possible to tell a great deal about a man from his moustache’) (p26) who tends to arrive at the wrong theories, often corrected by the imperturbable Fandorin.

Akunin captures the period – it’s 1878 – and the opulence of the steamship. ‘The breakfast served on the Leviathan was not some trifling Continental affair, but the genuine full English variety: with roast beef, exquisite egg dishes, blood pudding and porridge.’ (p43) He also reveals Mr Aono’s culture with great effect – which is not surprising since under his real name the author is an expert on Japan, has translated Japanese and served as the editor-in-chief of the 20-volume Anthology of Japanese Literature.

He exhibits a fine eye for detail and imagery, too. ‘in the flickering lightning the rain glittered like steel threads in the night sky, and the waves frothed and foamed white in the darkness. It was an awesome night.’ (p188)

The set-up, the mix of characters and the crime itself echo Agatha Christie, and this is not surprising since Akunin apparently set out to write Fandorin novels in every sub-genre of the detective novel. His first was a conspiracy, his second a spy case, his third this Agatha Christie homage, and so on. He has identified sixteen sub-genres, in all, and has written fourteen so far. In addition, he wanted to create different types of human characters. Indeed, the Wikipedia entry for Grigol Chkhartishvili (Boris Akunin) makes fascinating reading in itself.

In the entry List of best-selling books the Erast Fandorin series has sold in excess of copies. Typically, a new book in the series sells about 200,000 copies in the first week.

Book review - Investigating Murdoch Mysteries

The official companion to the TV series, Murdoch Mysteries (2015) is a lavish reasonably priced hardback with dozens of colour photographs. Ideal for any fan to own. The authors Michelle Ricci and Mir Bahmanyar were given much assistance from the cast and crew; this book covers series 1 thru 8, so there will be spoilers. As usual, Titan Books gives us an excellent book in every respect.

There’s a foreword by the author of the books, Maureen Jennings, enjoying how her characters are being brought to life. The introduction is by Christina Jennings (no relation!), Executive Producer and Chairman & CEO of Shaftesbury films, explaining that some twelve years ago Maureen Jennings’ publisher sent her the books to read, and she decided to adapt three books as TV movies. Although the adaptations were faithful to the books, there was one exception; the invention of another character outside her comfort zone, just like Murdoch, so coroner Julia Ogden was created. The films were successful and the broadcaster was keen for a continuing series to be produced. It was decided to depart from the darker tone of the movies, ‘more Jules Verne, less Dickens’, and introduce steampunk and humour, with knowing nods to the future, and of course there would be romance. Happily, the team assembled provided all that, and more, from good writing, brilliant Victorian and Edwardian sets, to excellent acting.

There are fascinating insights into the characters, Victorian Toronto, and the inventions of the time depicted.  The Toronto police were formed in 1859. By the time of the start of the series (1895) the police have all-night patrols, a mounted unit for outlying areas and to control speeding horses! Bicycles for patrols were introduced in 1894, and as we know Murdoch was a keen cyclist. Up to the early 1890s, the police were also the main source of ‘social services’, until humane societies came on the scene. 

We are presented with blueprints of Police Station No.4 and the morgue. And Prime Minister Stephen Harper appeared as a desk sergeant. We’re given an insight into the music, too, which is an important aspect of the series, helping to create the mood. 

Yannick Bisson (Murdoch) does not, has never, and will never wear mascara or any eye makeup, we are told. Those distinctive eyelashes have been with him since he was born! It could have been a daunting prospect to audition for a character that had already appeared in three TV movies. However, executive producer Val Coons had declared he was looking for someone different, He read about three times to get the part – which he has definitely claimed as his own over eight series.

Considerable coverage is given to the costumes, which again have to reflect not only the period but the characters. The offices, and all the other sets, are painstakingly created to evoke that period feel.

All the main characters are covered in some depth – Julia Ogden, Constable George Crabtree, Inspector Thomas Brackenreid, and Doctor Emily Grace. Then we meet their friends and foes, too, all of whom grow in depth as the series moves forward, not least Chief Constable Percival Giles, tycoon James Pendrick, spymaster Terrence Meyers and arch-enemy James Gillies, among many others.

There’s an intriguing blueprint of Pendrick’s electric car, ‘The Pendrick Bullet’, which took four months to perfect instead of the usual two weeks for inventive props. And it worked, as shown, with the actors in the cab!

And of course we can’t forget the many historical figures who appear in the series: Prince Alfred, Alexander Graham Bell, Winston Churchill, Arthur Conan Doyle, Thomas Edison, Henry Ford, Harry Houdini, Jack London, ‘Bat’ Masterson, Annie Oakley, Theodore Roosevelt, H.G. Wells, and many more fascinating cameos.

Lastly, we’re given a year-by-year account of the attraction, disappointments, travails and on-off courtship of William Murdoch and Julia Ogden.

Every year, the writing staff  meet a number of months before the next series goes into production and they develop stories and ideas. We’re given a fascinating overview of how a storyline comes together – the 100^th episode, in fact – and how the writers lay out a particular story with all the specifics – the beats – of what happen in each scene. They have to attend to logical progression, clues, red herrings, humorous interludes. The beat sheet is the guide; this becomes 15 pages of prose, scenes in paragraphs. It’s then read and revised and approved and then it becomes a 50-minute script.

As the back-cover blurb says, this is a treasure trove for fans of the series.

Book review - Flesh and Blood

Thomas H. Cook is the author of over 25 novels, mainly in the mystery and crime genre. Flesh and Blood (1989) is a sequel to Sacrificial Ground, which I haven’t read.

After the events in Sacrificial Ground, PI Frank Clemons is living with Karen, a survivor from his last case. They’ve moved to New York, but Frank finds it hard to settle, and often slips out in the early hours to imbibe whiskey.

A garment designer called Hannah is slain and her hand is severed and is missing. While the police investigate the killing, Frank is hired by Hannah’s rich employer, Imalia, to locate any living relatives of the dead woman, so they can claim the body after the police have finished with it. Frank is helped in his quest by the mysterious Farouk, who proves useful with many contacts; they make a good world-weary team.

Hannah had two sisters (don’t tell Woody Allen), but they’re hard to find. Frank starts to dig, from Hannah’s childhood with her rabbi father, fresh from Poland, in the 1920s. Slowly, a picture of Hannah begins to emerge. After their father’s death, Hannah cared for her younger sisters and found work in a garment sweat-shop. She joined a union and became a visionary, instituting a strike for better conditions in the 1930s.

‘For a long time, Frank stared silently at the photograph. He could almost feel the cold winter wind which lifted her scar and held it fluttering in the air, hear the roar of the crowd as they cheered her, feel the triumph of her hand in the crisp biting air, sense the sheer driving power of her voice as it pealed over them, crying out the words (of inspiration)’ (p117)

This is one of those detective novels American authors do so well, peeling away the past, and in the process illuminating the working and living conditions suffered by the deceased protagonists. The fashion industry of the time is laid bare: the final revelations are troubling, even shocking, in several ways, but it would be unkind to reveal why; suffice it to say that the conclusion was satisfactory and provided a closure of sorts for Frank.

In many instances, Cook’s writing tends to rise above the standard PI novel. Frank exhibits great empathy for the victims: ‘Whatever small hope still remained for Hannah Karlsberg had died in that moment, and a few terrible seconds later, she had died as well.’ (p35)

And as he delved into Hannah’s history, getting to know her through the reminiscences of those who knew her, ‘He could feel the heaviness of time all about him, the brevity of life, the way it drained away in a quiet rush of days until it was gone, gone as if in one quick, invisible streak.’ (p109)

Throughout, there’s the shadow of Hannah and her brutal death, hovering, and as Frank’s investigation brings him close to a solution, the foreboding becomes fact: ‘Frank turned and looked at the room, and as he did so, a chill swept over him, haunting and inexplicable, a sense that the world had suddenly shifted in its flight, edged itself a little deeper into the engulfing darkness.’ (p245)

Recommended.

Editorial comment.

(Minor points, but perhaps instructive when writing).

Like a number of US crime authors, Cook displays a tendency (here, at least) to overdo dialogue attribution, particularly when there are only two individuals in a scene, for example:

            ‘Early in the morning,’ Imalia said. ‘That’s all I can tell you.’

            ‘And you said she was an employee of yours,’ Frank said.

            ‘Yes.’

            ‘What do you do?’ Frank asked.

            Imalia smiled quietly. ‘You don’t know?’

            Frank shook his head. (p17)

It’s not a simple call, of course. Injecting a name from time to time is necessary to keep the reader on track, though the dialogue itself is usually sufficient to indicate who is speaking. Naturally, he sensibly avoids the plethora of alternatives to ‘he said, she said’.

It shouldn’t be too difficult to find names that don’t begin with the same letter (to avoid reader confusion): yet here we have Imalia Covallo, Frank Clemons, and desk sergeant Calvino. Then the two main male protagonists are Frank and Farouk.

Not a particularly good cover, Berkley Books: you can barely see the 'severed' hand dark grey on black, and the title is broken up by that same hand.

Saving Africa’s Elephants

Tonight on BBC TV there’s part one of two of 'Saving Africa's Elephants' that features Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall campaigning to save the African elephant. Although these magnificent beasts have been ‘protected’ for over two decades, they’re still being slaughtered for their ivory. It’s a sick illegal trade that should have been stopped long ago. But then again, we’ve been saying that about the human slave trade – which hasn’t been stopped either…

Endangered species and their support have been close to my heart for many years.  That might account for the fact that I’ve featured various aspects of their plight and the illegal trade in my writing. No preaching, just facts used in the story.

‘Endangered Species’. A short story featuring half-Spanish half-English private eye Leon Cazador on the track of dealers in exotic pets. See SpanishEye, a collection of 22 Cazador cases.

Blood of the DragonTrees. Laura Reid likes her new job on Tenerife, teaching the Spanish twins Maria and Ricardo Chávez. She certainly doesn’t want to get involved with Andrew Kirby and his pal, Jalbala Emcheta, who work for CITES*, tracking down illegal traders in endangered species. Yet she’s undeniably drawn to Andrew, which is complicated, as she’s also attracted to Felipe, the brother of her widower host, Don Alonso. Felipe’s girlfriend Lola is jealous and Laura is forced to take sides – risking her own life – as she and Andrew uncover the criminal network that not only deals in the products from endangered species, but also thrives on people trafficking. Very soon betrayal and mortal danger lurk in the shadows, along with dark deeds …

Cataclysm. Third in the ‘Avenging Cat’ series. We again meet Laura and Andrew, this time in Shanghai on the trail of illegal trade in endangered species. This is primarily an adventure featuring Catherine Vibrissae and her vendetta against the crooked CEO Loup Malefice, but her path crosses with Laura's during her investigations.

* CITES - Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild Fauna and Flora is an international agreement between governments. Its aim is to ensure that international trade in specimens of wild animals and plants does not threaten their survival.

Book review - Undercurrents

Written by Ridley Pearson in 1988, Undercurrents is his first Detective Lou Boldt novel.

Sergeant Boldt is investigating the ‘Cross Killer’ – a serial murderer who cuts a crucifix into the victim’s chest. Boldt is assisted by police psychologist Daphne Matthews.  

Slowly, painstakingly, their tenacity builds up a criminal profile. Yet this is more than a police procedural novel. Pearson provides poignant observation of people’s flaws, including Boldt’s, not least the disintegration of his marriage. ‘Being a cop is like a terminal disease: it consumes you, entirely, slowly but surely. I’ve allowed it to take everything out of my life. And I’ve suddenly reached the stage where I resent that.’ (p260).

There’s wit aplenty too. Boldt is being hounded by the press, notably because an earlier suspect, who proved to be innocent, was murdered before he could go to trial: ‘You’re getting more press than a pair of cotton slacks.’ (p131)

However, there seems to be more than one killer; there appears to be a copycat, too. Throughout their investigation, the killer (or killers) seem to be at least one step ahead.

Beneath the surface there’s a deep-seated anger at the perpetrator, who denies the innocents of life.  If you’ve never read a Lou Boldt book, this is the place to start. You won’t regret making the guy’s acquaintance. I’ve also read the tense suspenseful sequel, The Angel Maker, which I can also recommend. There are nine books in the Boldt series.