Barbara Clark

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At its outset, Mister Memory has the intimate yet informal detailing of an adult fable or fairy tale. This makes sense, given that its author, Marcus Sedgwick, has published a number of YA books that include fantasy, myths and graphic novels.

Mister Memory introduces readers to Marcel Després, a handsome, naïve and uncommon young man whose extraordinary mind lands him in big trouble. For Marcel, every tiny action and word—the details of every moment in his life—is indelibly recorded in his mind. He’s literally unable to forget. For a long time he’s unaware that he possesses this unique trait—or burden. He simply thinks everyone’s mind works that way.

Unable to hold down a job in Paris of 1899, Marcel finally becomes a popular cabaret hit as “Mister Memory,” a moniker that may evoke for some the Hitchcockian character in The 39 Steps, a 1939 film full of dark, comic moments.

Sedgwick’s narrative soon turns into a clever, absorbing mystery after Marcel is arrested for killing his wife upon discovering her in bed with a lover. Instead of doing a stint in jail—the usual Parisian punishment for murdering an unfaithful wife—Marcel is whisked away to a mental hospital for the criminally insane, and the case is summarily closed like the slamming of a door.

Inspector Petit of the Paris prefecture realizes there is more to the story, at a level that involves the highest realms of law enforcement as well as the lowest echelons of Parisian society. A photograph of Marcel’s wife, also a cabaret performer, sets Petit on a dangerous path to discovery and action.

Mister Memory is an extraordinary trip into the deep recesses of mind and memory, brought to light little by little as Marcel’s physician comes to learn more about his patient’s inner world. Dr. Morel tells him, “You have taught me something. Through you I have come to see that there is no such thing as truth. That all we ever really know is perception.”

Petit, who struggles with memories of his own that he’d like to banish, belatedly comes to realize that “each memory is itself only a construction of infinitely small moments of time, each of which has no meaning in itself. It is only the story we make by linking such moments together, and the narrative that creates, that gives us any meaning.”

At its outset, Mister Memory has the intimate yet informal detailing of an adult fable or fairy tale. This makes sense, given that its author, Marcus Sedgwick, has published a number of YA books that include fantasy, myths and graphic novels.

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It’s hot, hot, hot in Dallas, Texas, where a drug bust gone bad welcomes readers to police detective Betty Rhyzyk’s world of undercover narcotics, and into Kathleen Kent’s new crime novel, The Dime.

Kent, a writer of historical fiction, explodes onto the crime genre with a detective who has all the qualities that’ll make her stand out from the crowd. No shrinking violet, Betty is a very tall, redheaded lesbian, as well as a kick-butt detective, transplanted from Brooklyn to good ol’ boy Dallas, where lewd comments and not-so-subtle discrimination are the least of what she’s facing.

In her latest case, Betty confronts a slew of murder victims, but realizes that the gruesome deaths don’t have the marks of Mexico’s drug cartel. Betty and her team follow disparate clues to determine just who may be challenging the cartel—and who is responsible for the growing list of victims, including one of the detective team’s own.

Kent rises above the obligatory badass conventions that can sometimes derail brutal “cops and robbers” tales like these, with their complicated, often-violent protagonists. She excels in other ways, by creating an engrossing story of the sometimes-strained but always-changing relationships between this unusual detective and her more mainstream hetero colleagues, and puts into perspective a somewhat over-the-top torture-filled scene that threatens to unbalance the rest of the plot. Kent’s brilliant, sometimes-gentle and humorous observations humanize and set this book apart.

The Dime showcases the author’s strengths with multifaceted descriptions of Betty and her sturdy friendship with her police partner, Seth; the many characters on the police force; and her unfortunate run-ins with the disagreeable family of her lover/partner, Jackie. A religion-crazed cult leader who surfaces later in the book is a chilling, stay-in-your head character who may possibly figure in future books. Kent tops off her narrative with a couple of one-of-a-kind characters whose small heroisms figure very large: the marvelously rendered Civil War re-enactor who stands his ground; and James Earle Walden, Jackie’s alcoholic, Vietnam vet great-uncle.

Best of all, the voice of Betty’s deceased Uncle Benny, the man who inspired her life, threads through the book with an ongoing patter of whimsical advice, sometimes funny, sometimes dead serious, but always on the money.

It’s hot, hot, hot in Dallas, Texas, where a drug bust gone bad welcomes readers to police detective Betty Rhyzyk’s world of undercover narcotics, and into Kathleen Kent’s new crime novel, The Dime.

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On the surface, Tracee de Hahn’s debut mystery mimics those Golden Age country house crime novels where the suspects gather in the drawing room facing each other across the tea table, with the curtains drawn against the night. Her book, however, is somehow both more and less than those old thrillers. It’s set in present-day Switzerland as a storm of epic proportions sweeps through the Lausanne region, blanketing the area of Château Vallotton with deadly ice, snow and wind.

Swiss Vendetta opens on a thrilling note—an icy blast, with a murder taking place right off the bat, before readers (or the victim) have time to bundle up against the weather. Just before the storm shuts down all outside access, rookie police officer Agnes Lüthi slips and slides onto the scene along with a couple of other officers, to contend with a château full of suspects.

Though officers and suspects are effectively trapped on the scene by the ice and snow, this particular château has tons of rooms, stairways and secret tunnels, so it’s not exactly a modest Agatha Christie country house. Agnes and her colleagues spread out to try and learn why Felicity Cowell, a bright young appraiser for a London auction house employed by the family to appraise an estate full of treasures, has met her death out in the storm, dressed in a diamond-embellished gown. The château bristles with suspects from the Vallotton family—the regal Marquise, her nephews Julien and Daniel, a peckish godson named Mulholland and a Great Dane named Winston. A young American, Nick Graves, who’s doing historical research at the estate, has a prior connection to the victim, upping the intrigue level. The family’s elderly neighbor, Monsieur Arsov, also figures large, with his dramatic World War II backstory.

Everyone’s full of polite obfuscations, but they give Agnes the run of the estate to pursue her inquiries, so this old/new crime novel ought to be a page-turner, with its marvelous backdrop of storm and menace. However, detective Lüthi’s insights are not always substantiated within the narrative, sometimes seeming to appear from offstage. Readers may struggle to develop sympathy for the author’s sometimes two-dimensional characters, who never quite spring to life.

Swiss Vendetta is full of side stories rich with promise. After a great beginning, a slow-going middle gives way to a finale that helps rescue some of the book’s dramatic potential.

On the surface, Tracee de Hahn’s debut mystery mimics those Golden Age country house crime novels where the suspects gather in the drawing room facing each other across the tea table, with the curtains drawn against the night. Her book, however, is somehow both more and less than those old thrillers. It’s set in present-day Switzerland as a storm of epic proportions sweeps through the Lausanne region, blanketing the area of Château Vallotton with deadly ice, snow and wind.

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The atmosphere, attitude and ambiance in Emma Flint’s debut thriller, Little Deaths, tunes right into the era in which it’s set—that of 1965 New York. It’s a time full of female stereotypes, where law enforcement, juries, the press and the general public frequently pre-judge women on appearances, eager to denounce those who deviate from mom-and-apple-pie images of Norman Rockwell fantasies.

Ruth Malone is a single, working mother who discovers one morning that her two young children have gone missing from their beds. When their dead bodies surface days later and the case turns into one of murder, Ruth’s look and lifestyle immediately render her a prime suspect. She works long hours as a cocktail waitress; her makeup is heavy glam; she’s been known to sleep around and keeps a notebook of male “friends”; she’s not good at socializing with other women; and she dreams of finding that rich lover who’ll rescue her from her meager surroundings.

Local reporter Pete Wonicke gets assigned to the murder case, and he becomes increasingly obsessed with the case and attracted to what he believes is the real person beneath Ruth’s caricature of a surface. Lead detective Charlie Devlin is also obsessed, though in his eyes it’s “cherchez la femme”—for him, she is the obvious perpetrator to the exclusion of all other suspects. He’s a cop with a past, and he’ll do everything in his power to see that she’s found guilty of murder.

Ruth’s ex, Frank, was with his children shortly before they disappeared. He adds another voice to the narrative as the search for the guilty party heats up and readers sift through the stories and opinions from multiple sources.

As a thriller, Little Deaths succeeds as a fairly run-of-the-mill crime story with the usual collection of suspects, bad guys and sympathetic characters. However, as a psychological study of the subtle terror visited on a woman who is alone and essentially a victim herself, it’s superlative. The book effectively delivers a convulsive look at a woman trapped by circumstance and gender, skillfully tuned by the author to convey Ruth’s claustrophobic sense of fatalism.

There’s an unfinished feel to the end of the book, and some readers will consider the conclusion a cop-out. But in another way—and more effectively than a slam-bang finale—the final pages will embed readers in the real drama of Ruth’s descent—and perhaps her hope.

The atmosphere, attitude and ambiance in Emma Flint’s debut thriller, Little Deaths, tunes right into the era in which it’s set—that of 1965 New York. It’s a time full of female stereotypes, where law enforcement, juries, the press and the general public frequently pre-judge women on appearances, eager to denounce those who deviate from mom-and-apple-pie images of Norman Rockwell fantasies.

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Bestselling author Thomas Perry has a distinct and methodical way of telling a story: bare bones with no extra words floating around. He’s a master at writing descriptively, plainly and with remarkable clarity, as well as imagining what can happen when the net tightens in an exciting, claustrophobic thriller. These skills combine nicely in what has become his métier, novels of escape suspense. Perry loves to write about people on the run and the detailed, scrupulous preparations they must make to ensure they disappear successfully—as well as try to make a different life and stay hidden from their enemies permanently.

This distinctive narrative form reached a kind of zenith in Perry’s outstanding Jane Whitefield series, beginning with Vanishing Act (1996). The so-named “Jane” helps others elude, evade and escape when they are unfairly being targeted, usually by a criminal agency, whether private or governmental. Jane embodies a kind of one-person “A-Team” who can materialize to help—if you can find her, since she lives under another identity.

The Old Man, Perry’s latest fictional marvel, is a standalone with a similar pretext, and it’s equally addictive. The main character, who becomes known to readers by several different aliases during the course of the novel, seeks to escape unfair targeting by a secret U.S. government agency that wants to offer him up to accommodate a shady alliance with a terrorist Libyan government—one that our man, first known as Dixon, ran afoul of 30 years earlier. Dixon has been living a quiet life for more than 30 years. But they’ve found him, so he must put in place the getaway plans he’s kept ready throughout that time.

Perry astounds and draws in even skeptical readers with his blow-by-blow descriptions of Dixon’s plans to evade the agency’s draconian clutches. Aiding him are a couple of marvelous canines; a woman who’s a story all by herself; a doubting independent contractor; a 30-year collection of survival skills and weaponry; and in-the-front, out-the-back tactics and preparedness. The book’s pièce de résistance is an exciting chase through the deep snow, with snowmobiles pitted against snowshoes and skis.

The Old Man is Perry at the top of his game, and readers will rip their way through every word to find out just who’s going to win this contest.

Bestselling author Thomas Perry has a distinct and methodical way of telling a story: bare bones with no extra words floating around. He’s a master at writing descriptively, plainly and with remarkable clarity, as well as imagining what can happen when the net tightens in an exciting, claustrophobic thriller. These skills combine nicely in what has become his métier, novels of escape suspense.

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The U.S. debut of Argentinian author Federico Axat, Kill the Next One, starts off with a genuine bang—or, more accurately, an almost-bang: “Ted McKay was about to put a bullet through his brain when the doorbell rang.”

Readers venturing past the first intriguing sentence will likely experience a variety of feelings while tackling the remainder of this book, which features convoluted plotlines and blurry trips away from any grounding in reality. The mind-bending plot contrivances work effectively to heighten the interest level of this sometimes long-winded narrative.

The bullet-stopper of the first sentence turns out to be a stranger, standing on Ted’s doorstep. He unaccountably seems to know a lot about Ted’s suicide plans, and offers him a potentially more satisfactory way to achieve his own demise. He proposes a couple of—as he describes them—justifiable killings, with the final one conveniently resulting in Ted’s own death, thus sparing his family the pain of living with the knowledge of Ted’s suicide.

The book alludes to several murders, all of which initially point to Ted as the killer. The plot, with its numerous dream sequences, knocks reality a bit awry, and Ted winds up confined as a patient in a psychiatric hospital, searching through a confusion of dreams and a fragmented past to find the truth and determine just whom—if anyone—he can trust. Laura Hill, his therapist, sticks with Ted in his search for the truth.

Kill the Next One calls on hallucinatory sequences, including a sinister-seeming animal that shows itself to Ted but may or may not be real, labyrinths, Minotaurs and dead bodies that may or may not exist. In one of their many talk sessions, Ted tells Laura about his elusive memories: It’s “just bits and pieces, all jumbled together,” he says.

And possibly that’s true in readers’ minds as well. The book is constructed much like Ted’s brain, and that can be off-putting for some readers as they struggle to stay with the plot and maintain a level of interest in the outcome. Unnecessary graphic descriptions of animal torture are also a definite drawback in this narrative.

Fans of more straightforward crime and suspense may lose interest, while those who like juggling multiple layers in a possible alternate reality full of changing patterns and fragments will want to stay on to the finish. 

The U.S. debut of Argentinian author Federico Axat, Kill the Next One, starts off with a genuine bang—or, more accurately, an almost-bang: “Ted McKay was about to put a bullet through his brain when the doorbell rang.”

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The heading on Joanne Harris’ website remarks that she “does a bit of writing.” Many readers will recognize the understatement: Harris is the author of more than a dozen notable works, including the popular, award-winning novel Chocolat, which first brought Harris to the attention of American readers.

In Different Class, Harris has created an absorbing novel with a deep, dark mystery at its heart. Though the story is a standalone, Different Class returns to geographical territory Harris explored in Gentlemen Players (2005) and Blueeyedboy (2010)—that of St. Oswald’s, a not-quite-first-class boys’ grammar school located in Yorkshire. Harris taught modern languages at a boys’ grammar school in England for 15 years, so she has nailed the musty, chalk-filled, stuck-in-time atmosphere dead-on.

Different Class doesn’t read like a traditional, blood-and-guts thriller, but its slow-burning fuse has a deeper impact that readers absorb through two different, remarkable narratives: that of Latin teacher Roy Straitley, who’s been at St. Oswald’s for decades; and that of a more sinister-sounding and anonymous diary writer who tells a chilling story about his time as a student at the school.

Readers are introduced, at first in a low-key way, to a milieu that encompasses pedophilia, homophobia and the sorts of subtle cruelties that may seem to sprout naturally in the setting of a boys’ school of this kind, where close contact provides fertile ground for adolescent discontent, dependency and an inbred atmosphere of bullying.

The book straddles a period of about 25 years in the life of the school. The unknown diarist writes during the 1980s, when St. Oswald’s experienced the imprisonment of a gay teacher for a crime that involved pedophilia and murder, with tragic implications that filter through to the present, as revisited by the now-elderly Straitley, who was a best friend to the accused. Straitley is also pretty much alone among the current teaching staff in his revulsion for the school’s new headmaster, Johnny Harrington, who was present during the 1981 event.

The author skillfully misdirects readers, who must sift for the truth through the lens of her narrators’ conflicting perspectives. Straitley remains intent on bringing the real wrongdoers to justice, although at book’s end, as in all good stories, the feeling remains that there’s still much to be accounted for.

 

ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Read a Behind the Book essay by Joanne Harris on Different Class.

The heading on Joanne Harris’ website remarks that she “does a bit of writing.” Many readers will recognize the understatement: Harris is the author of more than a dozen notable works, including the popular, award-winning novel Chocolat, which first brought Harris to the attention of American readers.

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In Normal, Warren Ellis’ exceptional new thriller, foresight strategist Adam Dearborn has just been admitted to a compound called Normal, located on the U.S. west coast. It’s where those who were previously hired to monitor Earth’s degrading civilization are sent when they’re so burned out they can no longer function, well, normally.

The word itself loses much of its meaning in a near-future world where surveillance is constant, and the Normal Head Research Station itself hardly seems a place of safety. One inmate describes the outside world as “a permanent condition of pervasive low-level warfare,” and explains, “We’ve all been sent mad by grief.” The patients at Normal have, they frequently say, spent too much time “gazing into the abyss.”

The compound is abuzz when there’s a bizarre murder the morning after Adam’s arrival. He noticed the strange figure of Mr. Mansfield the previous afternoon, lurking about the edges of Normal’s forest. But Mansfield is missing the next morning, gone from his room and seemingly replaced by a mound of hundreds of crawling insects.

Adam—no model of stability himself—begins a low-key quest to discover what exactly has happened, and whether there’s anyone in Normal who can be trusted. The compound’s inhabitants beguile each other with lies, hysteria or reclusive behavior, as they search for ways to cope with the loss of the normal society they remember. The search leads Adam to an area called Staging, the only place in the compound with access, through the Internet, to the outside. Staging could give access to some answers—or to something much worse.

It’s clear that things have gone badly wrong out in the wider world, where people are now constantly watched by interfering “microdrones.” Ellis excels by inference, offering a chilling picture of the emotional turmoil in a human society that’s come unhinged. More unsettling, at the end of the book, there’s a shocking description of the event that led Adam to untether from his own sanity. 

This slim sci-fi mystery will puzzle, engage your senses and stick with you, maybe popping up days later when one of its passages resonates uncomfortably in the real world outside the book’s pages. Normal chills not by overt action or gory effects, but by slyly transporting readers outside their comfort zone, offering a look into a future that seems increasingly plausible after all.

In Normal, Warren Ellis’ exceptional new thriller, foresight strategist Adam Dearborn has just been admitted to a compound called Normal, located on the U.S. west coast. It’s where those who were previously hired to monitor Earth’s degrading civilization are sent when they’re so burned out they can no longer function, well, normally.

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The Inheritance, book five in Charles Finch’s well-written Victorian crime series, follows the activities of the detective agency run by gentleman sleuth Charles Lenox, along with his two partners, in a time when these newly formed partnerships are just beginning to gain credibility in the public mind. Sometimes it seems like a drawing room soap opera, all genteel furnishings and horse-drawn carriages; other times like a detailed and engrossing murder plot. As luck—and the author’s skill—would have it, it’s both.

For the inheritance in question, the “who” and “why” are standout questions. Who is the mysterious benefactor who has given not one, but two generous bequests to Lenox’s childhood friend Gerald Leigh? The first anonymous bequest enabled Leigh to attend the prestigious Harrow School as a boy; the second and most recent provides opportunities for Leigh to significantly advance his scientific career. Perhaps of greater significance, why were these legacies so mysteriously given? Leigh contacts his old friend Lenox after an absence of nearly 30 years to ask for help in finding answers.

As schoolboys, Lenox and Leigh pursued an exhaustive but ultimately unsuccessful quest to discover the identity of the legator. This time around there’s an urgency to unmask the friend—or enemy—who has offered the generous sum. A couple of members of London’s East End gangs have a deep interest in seeing that Leigh disappears for good, and Leigh’s solicitor is found dead before he can shed light on the charitable legacy.

While illustrating a warm picture of the men’s friendship as it grows and mellows through the years, Finch also provides a skillfully drawn social portrait of the late 1800s, without being ponderous or intruding on the course of the story. He adds tidbits of interest about the industry, progress and politics of the time, including breakthrough discoveries in the burgeoning field of microbiology. Leigh’s backstory draws a lively, sympathetic and often dryly humorous portrait of this uncommon scientist as he cuts a new path in an era where manners and protocol hold sway.

As this mystery unfolds, Finch conjures the palpable excitement of the day over such groundbreaking developments as the telegraph and electricity, as England—and the rest of the world—stand on the brink of great change, as the paths of the genteel and the common are poised to intersect and change the social contract forever.

The Inheritance, book five in Charles Finch’s well-written Victorian crime series, follows the activities of the detective agency run by gentleman sleuth Charles Lenox, along with his two partners, in a time when these newly formed partnerships are just beginning to gain credibility in the public mind. Sometimes it seems like a drawing room soap opera, all genteel furnishings and horse-drawn carriages; other times like a detailed and engrossing murder plot. As luck—and the author’s skill—would have it, it’s both.

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Smoke and Mirrors is the second book in a wonderful crime series by author Elly Griffiths, who also writes the equally entrancing Ruth Galloway mysteries. Smoke follows the series debut, The Zig Zag Girl, published in 2015.

In the early 1950s, Detective Inspector Edgar Stephens, now on the Brighton police force, and stage magician Max Mephisto are part of a core of men who formerly served in a special unit in World War II, working with Britain’s MI5 intelligence service to deceive the enemy through various trickeries and illusions. Readers meet several members of the small team of “Magic Men” in this and the earlier book, as Griffiths creates an imaginative, tightly constructed storyline with all sorts of intriguing possibilities for future adventures.

In Smoke and Mirrors, children’s fairy tales take a gruesome turn when two missing children are found dead in the woods in a parody of the Hansel and Gretel story, their bodies marked by a trail of candy. The victims appear to be part of a group of youngsters who are turning classic fairy tales upside down and creating their own spin on the plots, then enacting them at a homegrown children’s theater. One of the victims, 11-year-old Annie Francis, appears to be the creative mind behind the stories, inspired perhaps by her grammar school teacher, Miss Young, whose imagination may be outpacing her good judgment.

The bizarre murder takes place against the backdrop of a professional theater performance of Aladdin, a Christmas pantomime featuring Max Mephisto himself, but it brings up a creepy coincidence: Thirty-nine years earlier, a young girl was murdered not far away, in a theater production of the children’s tale Babes in the Wood, and at least one of the current actors in Aladdin—another member of the Magic Men—was in that 1916 production, when the children’s tale likewise turned dark and tragic.

Griffiths’ exceptional and subtle sense of humor sometimes contrasts—or places heightened emphasis—on scenes that depict cruel and tawdry acts. In a way, there are few innocents in this tale. Everyone is interconnected, and even the victims’ motives may be cloudy. An inventive backstory and threads of connection elevate the story above the ordinary run of mystery novels.

Smoke and Mirrors is the second book in a wonderful crime series by author Elly Griffiths, who also writes the equally entrancing Ruth Galloway mysteries. Smoke follows the series debut, The Zig Zag Girl, published in 2015.

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The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency of Gabarone, Botswana, takes on a new client in Precious and Grace. True to form, Alexander McCall Smith’s fine process of “getting there” wins out over shootouts and car chases any old day, and his asides—often important clues in traditional whodunits—are, well, just asides.

The series reads like a pleasantly low-key moral tale. It’s all pretty much down to the ruminations of Mma Ramotswe, No. 1’s founder and owner, who has commandeered the series through 17 leisurely installments. “Commandeered” is a bit strong, though. Mma Ramotswe (whose name is Precious, though you’ll seldom hear it) can teach us a lot about the ways of kindly souls and about the sort of real forgiveness that few of us can muster. She’s an acute observer of all around her, and like Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple, her rural country setting never keeps her from spotting the many foibles displayed by her fellows and making important connections about human nature that serve her well.

Sometimes her refusal to judge can get in Mma Ramotswe’s way, even when she tries to hold back the tongue of her business assistant and close friend, Mma Makutsi (whose name is Grace, though it’s not often bandied about). Mma Makutsi’s wayward opinions, however, can sometimes be effectively quelled by the frequent cups of tea dispensed in the No. 1 office. And since everything at the agency proceeds on Botswana time—that is to say, at a steady but hardly rapid pace—there’s ample time to smooth over the wrinkles of human disagreement.

When Susan, a young Canadian woman, appeals for the agency’s help in uncovering pieces of her long-forgotten early childhood in Botswana, Mma Makutsi is quick to jump to conclusions about her motives, while Mma Ramotswe holds back judgment to read between the lines, piecing the reasons together from the woman’s unhappy past. The search for Susan’s old home is nicely punctuated with evocative portraits of the many people in Mma Ramotswe’s rich life: her husband, Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni; her sometime assistants, Charlie and Mr. Polopetsi (he of the high-flying but often-plummeting schemes); and of course the outspoken Grace herself.

Readers seeking hair-trigger action thrills will wish to steer clear of the Ladies’ Detective Agency, where, fortunately for the rest of us, the literary payoff is in an entirely different coinage.

The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency of Gabarone, Botswana, takes on a new client in Precious and Grace. True to form, Alexander McCall Smith’s fine process of “getting there” wins out over shootouts and car chases any old day, and his asides—often important clues in traditional whodunits—are, well, just asides.

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Homicide detective Max Rupert and lawyer Boady Sanden are longtime friends, but in Allen Eskens’ crime thriller The Heavens May Fall, they’re on opposite sides of the fence, with an ever-widening divide between them.

Max is a widower, still grieving his wife’s death four years earlier by a hit-and-run driver who was never apprehended. Boady hasn’t practiced law since the death of his last client, an innocent man who was deemed guilty even after Boady’s best legal efforts. These characters appear in Eskens’ previous work, The Life We Bury, and are more fully fleshed out in this novel.

On the anniversary of his own wife’s death, Max finds himself heading up the team assigned to the gruesome, perplexing murder of a woman who turns out to be Jennavieve Pruitt, the wife of Ben Pruitt, a prominent attorney, with whom Max has some bad history dating back to another case. Ben has an alibi for the night of his wife’s death, but it’s a leaky one and he needs a good attorney.

Boady, who was once Ben’s law partner, agrees to represent him, thus locking in an adversarial relationship between Max and Boady, one that will forever alter their friendship. Each man approaches the murder through the lens of his own personal loss, each trying to restore an invisible balance while drawing on darker, earlier moments in his life. Max’s vision may be obscured by a need for inner healing; Boady seeks reason and redemption from his past failures or omissions.

This tension-filled book explores the case from each man’s perspective—that of the detective who believes the victim’s husband is guilty of murder, and that of the attorney who believes that his client is innocent. The novel is occasionally clunky and overwrought in style, with a few unnecessarily gory details, but the author’s expert use of the modes of traditional crime fiction, combined with the legal proceedings and intriguing trial scenes, makes an effective combination that results in a fast-moving narrative.

The Heavens May Fall pretends to provide us with all the angles, giving readers a false sense of security, perhaps the illusion of transparency, only to cheat us at the end, as only good thrillers can, by throwing in some unexpected shocks and last-minute story twists.

Homicide detective Max Rupert and lawyer Boady Sanden are longtime friends, but in Allen Eskens’ crime thriller The Heavens May Fall, they’re on opposite sides of the fence, with an ever-widening divide between them.

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So Say the Fallen is Stuart Neville’s seventh crime novel, and the third in his fine Belfast series to feature DCI Serena Flanagan. It’s an enthralling modern-day police procedural that allows readers ample opportunity to appreciate the author’s skill at creating characters of depth and staying power.

Successful businessman Henry Garrick, severely injured in a car accident, has apparently committed suicide six months after the event. Called in on what looks like an open-and-shut case, Flanagan senses that something isn’t right about the scene, and she begins looking closely at the widow’s grief—as well as the behavior of the Garrick’s rector, frequently on the scene in the role of comforter to the bereaved.

Starting with the seemingly obvious death by overdose, the author switches his magnifying lens to each character, viewing them from a variety of angles. Small cracks in their facades begin to appear, eventually opening a chasm of suspicion that Flanagan diligently pursues. As a woman apparently locked in anguish, Roberta Garrick eventually reveals her many facets, possessing stealth and craftiness that becomes more frightening as the story progresses. The detective also shadows the rector, who comes close to confiding in her as he reveals a rabbity, furtive desperation that’s heightened as he confronts the loss of his own religious faith.

Flanagan receives no support from her superiors, who want her to sign off on the tragedy and call it a suicide. But her scrutiny pays off as she picks up on small, odd anomalies of behavior, refusing to abandon her own theory that wife and rector are far more than a picture of innocence. A moving and all-too-believable side story provides a look into Flanagan’s personal life as she finds herself estranged from her husband and kids, who want more family commitment from her just when she’s deeply ensnared in the case.

This novel stands apart from many of today’s thrillers in which scattershot dialogue often adds little more than surface thrills to play-by-play action and wannabe screenplay scenes. Neville reveals an outsize talent for offering real and disturbing insights into his characters and for allowing readers an all-too-rare opportunity to penetrate beyond the shell of a story. This is one of those books that you won’t want to put down until you’ve read it cover to cover.

So Say the Fallen is Stuart Neville’s seventh crime novel, and the third in his fine Belfast series to feature DCI Serena Flanagan. It’s an enthralling modern-day police procedural that allows readers ample opportunity to appreciate the author’s skill at creating characters of depth and staying power.

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