THE BLACK ECHO - Book review

I’ve read a good number of debut novels in my time, and Michael Connelly’s The Black Echo is one of the best. Here can be found assured writing, believable characters, vivid description, good pacing, and a likeable and tough protagonist. Harry is short for Hieronymus; apparently his mother ‘had a thing about fourteenth century painters’ (p97). 

LAPD Detective Harry Bosch is called out to the body of a vagrant suspected of succumbing to a drug overdose; stuffed in a concrete pipe near Mullholland Dam. But he reckons it doesn’t look like a suicide. And he recognises the corpse – a fellow soldier from Vietnam twenty years ago, Billy Meadows. Bosch immediately thinks something is very wrong here: ‘There are no coincidences’ (p25).

On checking out the dead man’s apartment, Bosch discovers that the place had been searched already, though an attempt had been made to hide the fact. The search had not discovered a pawn ticket, which Bosch decides to check out at the named shop.

But the shop has been broken into, jewellery and other items stolen…

His leads takes him to the Westland Bank break-in of the previous year. The felons had tunnelled in and raided the safety deposit boxes, the haul estimated at $2m. This robbery was investigated by the FBI but no arrests were made.

Bosch is told to work with the FBI on his latest murder case, and his partner is FBI agent Eleanor Wish.

The tunnelling caper brings back Bosch’s memories of being one of the tunnel rats rooting out Vietcong insurgents. Meadows had been in his team. Some memories never go away. He pulls out a scrapbook: ‘The pages were yellowed and had gone brown at the edges. They were brittle, much like the memories the photos evoked’ (p71).

‘The photos were of the smiling faces of young men who had dropped down into hell and had come back to smile into the camera. Out of the blue and into the black is what they called going into a tunnel. Each one was a black echo. Nothing but death is there. But, still, they went’ (p72).

His flashbacks are powerfully done; Bosch was only twenty and witnessed the mutilation of a comrade. And he was afraid, very afraid. ‘It was like going to hell. You’re down there and you could smell your own fear. It was like you were dead when you were down there’ (p192).

After being demobbed, not surprisingly Bosch suffered from a sleep disorder. ‘There was no going back to repair what had happened. You can’t patch a wounded soul with a Band-Aid’ (p77).

The relationship between Wish and Bosch becomes close and is handled well. Inevitably, Bosch is not a great lover of authority and has his issues with the police and FBI hierarchy, and even has blistering encounters with a couple of Internal Affairs goons.

There are plenty of tense moments, a second tunnel robbery seems probable, and it seems that not everyone is what they seem…

An excellent crime novel with a satisfying ending. The first of twenty-four Bosch books. I’d previously read the fifth Bosch book, Trunk Music in 1998, out of sequence but that was not a problem. I’ll be reading the next three in order: The Black Ice, The Concrete Blonde, and The Last Coyote.

Bosch was also a TV series (2014-2021) on Amazon and was well received.

Book review - Bad Luck and Trouble

Bad Luck and Trouble (2007) is the eleventh Jack Reacher novel from Lee Child, a publishing phenomenon. Night School, his twenty-first in the series is published this November.

Lee Child is one of the few modern authors to hit the best-seller list on each new release. His style and pace are geared to keep the reader turning the pages. A number of valid criticisms – lack of in-depth characterisation, over-use of clipped sentences, phrase repetition – have no effect on his legions of readers. He has tapped into the psyche of the modern readership – both female and male. He entertains. No mean feat, writing about the same guy year in year out.

In case you’ve been hiding under a rock or in a cave for almost twenty years, I’ll explain that ex-Army Military Policeman Jack Reacher is a wanderer, walking the streets and roadsides of North America, working when he needs money, but otherwise simply drifting. Under the radar. Off the grid. Helping unfortunates who need help. He’s tall, ‘two metres tall, a hundred and ten kilos, maybe a hundred and twenty’, a lot taller than Tom Cruise who plays him in two films, and all muscle, with ‘wrists as wide and hard as two-by-fours, hands like shovels’, and a shaved head. (The reference to metres instead of feet is from the point of view of a Middle Eastern villain).

Sometimes the Reacher books skip to the man’s past. Useful, that. Let’s be honest, the past has a habit of coming back to bite. At the wrong moment. This latest escapade begins when Frances Neagley, a member of his old Army unit, gets in touch in a rather outlandish way, and he answers the call. There may be a need to put the old unit back together again. Unfortunately, one of their number won’t be joining them, since his corpse was found in the desert. Tortured. Murdered. Dropped from a great height. And the rest are not answering the call. Something’s amiss. Badly awry.

One thing Reacher advocates – and respects – is loyalty. He’s loyal to his people. If they’re in trouble, he’ll plough through anything to get them out of it.

I’m not a great fan of Child’s choice of titles, and this book is no exception. ‘Because, second rule, learned from a lifetime of bad luck and trouble: maintain a little dignity.’ (p143) But I get it.

As a Brit author, Child is immersed in Americana, it seems. ‘… Huntington Drive, which Reacher was pretty sure had been a part of the old Route 66… Reacher started singing to himself, about getting his kicks…’ (It’s a while since I last read a Reacher book – One Shot, 2006 – but I don’t recall him singing to himself. Could be wrong. Reacher is rarely wrong.)

Neagley doesn’t much like physical contact, unless it’s to demolish an opponent.  She’s also not keen on the LAPD – ‘There are always scandals. It’s statistically difficult to quit the LAPD any other way.’ (p312) That won’t endear her to LAPD and ex-LAPD readers, I suspect. But her dislikes go further: ‘She’s human resources. It’s what they do.’ (Tell lies). (p322) Of course in this politically correct age, such generalisations can alienate; though doubtless draw cheers from those who have grievances! Incidentally, Neagley features in Night School, which is a flashback novel to their army days.

Much is made of Reacher’s skill with maths – square roots and all. Yes, the plot hinges on this aspect to a minor degree, but I found this tedious. The first two-thirds of the book present puzzles and a lengthy search for clues, but it’s the final third that delivers the pace and excitement we’ve come to expect. Delivered with aplomb. Spectacular. Lethal. Bad luck for the bad guys.

Not surprisingly, it’s reported that Transworld have announced a new contract with Lee Child for three more thrillers plus a volume of short stories and a novella, all featuring Jack Reacher. That’ll make it two dozen. Not bad. Clearly, he hasn’t over-reached himself yet.