Loose Lips

I have sometimes thought that the most difficult thing for a writer to do well is to write a novel from the first-person perspective of a person with a different gender. A year ago, I reviewed Kemper Donovan’s The Busy Body, the first in his series about an anonymous female ghostwriter, narrated from her perspective. There was not a single clue suggesting that a male had penned the novel; it was that seamless. (Thankfully, I happened to read his bio before submitting the review, saving myself the embarrassment of erroneous assumptions.) That holds true as well for the second installment in the series, Loose Lips, in which our protagonist accepts a gig as a guest lecturer on a literary cruise. It is a quintessential setup for a locked-room mystery, as there is no escape route for the guilty party, save for a lengthy North Atlantic winter’s swim back to New York City. Moreover, while the admittedly amateur investigation into the murder of author and cruise organizer Payton Garrett proceeds, more bodies will join the first in the ship’s galley freezer, adjacent to the celebrity chef’s signature lobster thermidor. The murder weapon is straight out of Agatha Christie or perhaps the board game Clue, and the tone is tongue-in-cheek a la Knives Out—an observation I made in my review last year, and one that still holds true this time around.  

Dead in the Frame

Stephen Spotswood’s noir detective series starring Lillian Pentecost and Willowjean “Will” Parker hearkens back to Rex Stout’s iconic Nero Wolfe and Archie Goodwin series. A cerebral crime-solver ensconced in her New York City mansion, Lillian mirrors Wolfe. Will serves as her Archie Goodwin: irreverent chronicler of the stories, perpetrator of assorted quasi-illegal deeds in furtherance of the investigations and smart-alecky nemesis of New York’s Finest. The latest, Dead in the Frame, features a second narrator for the first time in the series, which up to now was related by Will. Lillian is keeping a journal in her jail cell, where she awaits trial for the murder of longtime foe Jessup Quincannon. Meanwhile, Will madly scrambles through 1947 New York City to unravel a seemingly airtight case against her friend/employer. Rounding out the cast are an up-and-coming evangelist whose wife is perhaps more mercenary than missionary, a lethal female security consultant and a corrupt cop who dangles the key to Lillian’s exoneration, albeit at a price. Lillian’s multiple sclerosis makes her stay in prison even more difficult, and the tone of her journal is somber and introspective; Will’s voice, by comparison, is sassy and no-nonsense, although punctuated with rueful humor throughout. Without giving away anything here, the murderer is just about the last person you would expect. Well, perhaps not as far back in the queue as Lillian Pentecost, but pretty darn close.

The Queen of Fives

Alex Hay’s The Queen of Fives derives its title from an age-old, five-step primer on setting up a con, briefly summarized thusly: 1) Identify the mark; 2) Intrude on the daily life of the mark; 3) Tempt the mark with an offer too good to be true; 4) Encircle the mark with new friends and gently sever ties with old friends; 5) Cement the payoff and make the getaway. Bonus points if you can pull off the entire scam in five days, which is precisely what seductive Quinn le Blanc, the titular Queen of Fives, intends to accomplish. Her target is a midlevel royal, the Duke of Kendal. The year is 1898; the setting, Victorian-era London. The basic plan is disarmingly simple: Lure one of England’s most eligible bachelors into marriage, then abscond with the family fortune. It will be the most ambitious score Quinn has ever embarked upon. If she can pull it off. And that is a big if. It can be argued that desperation is never a good companion when plotting out a con, and there certainly is an element of desperation at play here. Deep in debt, Quinn really needs a big score. It’s a recipe for things going awry, at the worst times, in the worst possible manners (and manors). P.S. Of all the books this month, The Queen of Fives is the one that just screams to be adapted into a TV series, one sure to appeal to period drama fans, particularly those who might enjoy a spot of larceny with their afternoon tea.

Open Season

Forensic psychologist Alex Delaware and LAPD detective Milo Sturgis return for their 40th (!!!) adventure together in Jonathan Kellerman’s latest mystery, Open Season. The murder victim is a wannabe actor, funding the waiting period until her big break by serving as one of a bevy of glamorous attendees at various Tinseltown events. Her suspected killer is also a wannabe actor and occasional stuntman. But by the time suspicion falls on him, he has become a murder victim himself. They will not be the last victims, and as it will turn out, they are not the first either: Bullets from the rifle used to kill the stuntman match an earlier killing halfway across the country. What started out as a comparatively routine homicide investigation may be turning into a search for a serial killer, one who has stayed under the radar for years and who shows no signs of stopping any time soon. And then, as has happened often in the past, Dr. Delaware displays his gift for discerning patterns that nobody else has identified yet. Open Season is fast-paced, suspense-laden and boasts a true surprise ending, even for those who thought they had it figured out sooner. Like me.