Ordinary Grace

At the beginning of the summer of 1961, Frank Drum is thirteen years old and living in the small community of New Bremen, Minnesota. It's a summer that will change his life forever, and his story, told from Frank's perspective forty years later, will resonate with readers for a very long time.

Ordinary Grace is a stand-alone from William Kent Krueger, an author best known for his Cork O'Connor mystery series. But this is not a crime novel in the traditional sense, although a number of crimes are committed and investigated during the course of the story. Rather, it's a brilliantly written meditation on the ties of family and community and on the nature of grace, whether granted (or withheld) by God or by frail and fallible human beings in times of crisis and terrible loss when any rational person might well doubt his faith in anyone or anything.

Frank's family includes his father, a Methodist minister and veteran of World War II who still harbors secrets and regrets from the war. Frank's mother has an artistic nature and seems vaguely disappointed in the life that she has found. Additionally, Frank has an older and very talented sister who is headed for Julliard and a younger brother, Jake, who suffers from a disorder that makes him stutter badly.

The book opens with the death of a young boy who is accidentally killed while playing near the railroad tracks and this is the first in a series of tragedies that will befall the people of New Bremen as the summer progresses. Each of the members of Frank's family will react in different ways to the events of the summer, as will the other members of the community.

Krueger has vividly recreated the time and place in which this story is set--an obviously simpler and much more trusting age, and he has populated it with a cast of deftly-drawn characters each of whom is totally believable and engaging. The story is moving and elegiac, and calls to mind both Larry Watson's, Montana 1948 and Norman Macean's A River Runs Through It. Each of these books was also set in a small community in an earlier age. In each case the narrator is also a young man on the cusp of adulthood, and in each book families and the challenges they face are also critically important themes.

With Ordinary Grace, William Kent Krueger joins a very select group of authors in the brilliance with which he explores these subjects. This is, truly, a wonderful book and no review can really do it justice; it's one that a reader needs to experience for himself of herself. Certainly, though, it's the best book I've read thus far this year.

This excellent police procedural, published in 1988, was the first book from Robert Sims Reid, another one of those writers who, sadly, has not received nearly the acclaim that he deserves.

Set in the fictional town of Rozette, Montana, it features Ray Bartell and Paul Culp, two patrolmen who are partnered together several nights a week. Bartell is the more quiet and thoughtful of the two and serves as the department's hostage negotiator on those rare occasions when such services are needed. Culp is a veteran of the Vietnam War and carries his share of memories. But both men are fairly tight-lipped and each keeps his own counsel, which may explain why their partnership succeeds.

Like a lot of other cops, Culp is divorced. Bartell is married to an attractive wife named Helen. They have a teenage daughter who does not get along with her mother, and Bartell's relationship with Helen has reached a point where they're basically drifting along, without a lot to say to each other.

On most nights, the life of a patrolman in Rozette is deadly dull and amounts to responding to the occasional false alarm, rousting homeless people who are squatting where they are not wanted and generally watching for trouble that rarely happens. But then one night, Bartell and Culp are making their rounds and discover a small fire in an abandoned building. Their investigation into the seemingly minor incident suddenly turns explosive in a way that neither Culp nor Bartell could have anticipated and which will change their relationship and both of their lives forever.

Reid, who was himself a police officer, captures brilliantly the tedium of the job and the sudden moments of frantic action and terror that can punctuate it. His cops sound and feel authentic, and he plumbs not only the nature of their jobs but the effects that the job can have on their lives outside the department. James Crumley, no slouch himself in the crime fiction department, describes Big Sky Blues as "Perhaps the finest police novel I've ever read." High praise indeed from one of the masters.

This is the book in which Ed McBain adds Cotton Hawes to the cast of detectives who populate the 87th Precinct. As Hawes comes on board, a young woman named Annie Boone is shot and killed while working as a clerk in a liquor store. The store is then totally trashed and the owner seems more concerned about the damage to his stock than the death of his employee.

Annie, a divorced mother of a young daughter, seems to be something of a chameleon. Virtually everyone that the detectives interview has a radically different impression of the woman, and without knowing exactly who she was, it's going to be awfully difficult to catch her killer. Then, as the investigation progresses, Roger Havilland, one of the detectives, is also murdered. This increases the pressure to find the killer or killers and Steve Carella, Meyer Meyer, Bert Kling and Hawes, the new addition to the team must follow a very slim trail of evidence in their effort to find a solution to the crimes.

This is a quick, fun read, one of the better of the earlier books in the series. It's fun to watch the interaction with Hawes, the new guy, especially as he makes a nearly catastrophic mistake early on in the investigation. Any fan of the 87th Precinct will want to find this one.

This unconventional novel by Karin Fossum will delight some readers and, I suspect, confuse and frustrate others. Fossum, a Norwegian, is perhaps best known for her crime fiction series featuring Inspector Konrad Sejer. Here she attempts something completely different and unusual.

As the book opens, a middle aged female writer whose name we never learn, is cowering behind her curtains one night, looking down her driveway at the long line of characters who are waiting for her to tell their stories. The weight of the burden the characters impose upon her is almost too much to bear and she turns to drink and pills to get her through the night.

On this night, though, she awakens, panicked, in the middle of the night to find a man in her room. One of her upcoming characters has jumped the line and invaded her bedroom. He insists that the writer tell his story now. The writer tries to explain that the man must wait his turn, but he's worried because the writer is getting older and is not taking very good care of herself. He's desperately afraid that she might die before getting to him and that his story will never be told.

Reluctantly, the woman agrees to his request, and the man comes to life on her computer as Alvar Eide. He's single, in his early forties, and works in an art gallery. He's a very quiet, mild-mannered man who has difficulty relating to other people. But his life is well-ordered and he is content with it. Then one bitterly cold afternoon a young female drug addict stumbles into the gallery in an effort to get warm and Alvar does something totally out of character. Rather than immediately insisting that she leave the gallery, he offers her a cup of coffee, and this simple act will change the course of his life.

As the story progresses, Alvar continues to periodically interrupt the writer. He is concerned about the way he is being portrayed; he fears for what might happen to him. The writer patiently explains that once things are set in motion, she has little or no control. She must follow the story wherever it leads her, and Alvar must accept the consequences. Alvar is not sure he likes this at all, but watching his progress and observing his interaction with his creator is a fascinating experience.

Writers often say that characters sometimes assume a life of their own and I suspect that this is a difficult thing to grasp for people who are not writers and who assume that writers have complete control of the stories they write and the characters they create. But while a writer might consciously plan out a book to the last detail, that carefully constructed plan often cannot account for the actions of a mischievous subconscious.

Perhaps only another writer who has experienced that moment when, seemingly out of nowhere a character says or does something that takes you completely by surprise, can really appreciate what Fossum has done here. Which is to say that I enjoyed this book immensely, but I can understand why others might not be as enthused about it as I am.

Ed McBain is probably best known among crime fiction fans for his 87th Precinct series, but over a twenty-year stretch from 1978 to 1998, he also wrote a series featuring an attorney named Matthew Hope who lived in Calusa, Florida. Hope mostly dealt with routine issues like divorces and real estate closings, but every once in a while he got tangled up in a juicy murder case and whenever that happened, McBain stepped in to tell the tale.

In this case, Matthew is called by a young woman named Sarah Whittaker, the only child of a very wealthy man who has recently died. Shortly after the death of her father, Sarah's mother had her committed against her will to a mental hospital. The mother, the family attorney and a psychiatrist they have drummed up claim that Sarah is delusional and suicidal and that they have committed her for her own good. Sarah insists that she is perfectly sane, that there is a conspiracy against her, and that her mother is really after the $650,000 that her father left to Sarah. She wants Matthew to spring her from the asylum.

The young woman seems perfectly sane to Matthew, but he is the careful sort and investigates further before taking any precipitous action. Meanwhile, Matthew's friend, Calusa detective Morris Bloom, is knee-deep in a homicide case. The body of a young woman has surfaced out of the swamp after apparently being there for six months or so. The victim had been shot in the throat and her tongue had been cut out, all of which suggests foul play.

Matthew and Bloom commiserate with each other as they each pursue their respective investigations. In the meantime, Matthew has to deal with his troublesome ex-wife and with a particularly brash and sexy woman who wants to cook him fried chicken and jump his bones, although not necessarily in that order.

This is an entertaining book in an enjoyable series that doesn't take itself too seriously. Fans of the 87th Precinct novels might want to give Matthew Hope a try.

Welcome Back, Keller

Of all the characters that Lawrence Block has created, my second-favorite (after Matthew Scudder) is John Paul Keller, philatelist and hit man. Keller orginially appeared in a series of short stories that were published in Playboy and other magazines. Later, some of the stories were collected in Hit Man, and since then Keller's adventures have been chronicled in three other books. This is the fifth in the series.

Keller had earlier attempted to retire. He had moved from New York, his long-time home base, to New Orleans. There he became Nicholas Edwards, acquiring along the way a wife and fathering a young daughter. As Edwards, Keller created a business rehabbing houses that had been damaged by Hurricane Katrina. But then the Great Recession hit New Orleans along with the rest of the country, and the rehabbing business dried up to virtually nothing.

Keller is not destitute by any means. After a long and successful career as a hit man, he has off shore accounts, after all. But he is accustomed to a certain lifestyle which is now crimped by the lack of income. In particular, he has a growing stamp collection that is expensive to maintain.

Fortuitously, he receives a call from Dot, the woman who used to give Keller his assignments back in New York. Dot has also retired and moved to Sedona, Arizona. She's grown bored, though, and has gone back into business, scheduling hits. She wonders is Keller might be interested in an assignment.

He is. And thus begins a series of jobs that will take Keller to a variety of cities and even on a cruise as he carries out his appointed duties. Often, he is able to work in stops at stamp conventions and dealers, growing his collection with the money he is now earning.

It's all a great deal of fun and Keller is a very engaging character. He is, by turn, wistful, melancholy, reflective and playful. Even though is is an assassin for hire, he has his own moral code and he remains true to himself. The addition of a wife and child make him an even more interesting and well-rounded character, and it's great to have him back. My only regret about the book is that I liked it so much I devoured it over the course of one afternoon and evening, rather than taking the time to savor it over several days.

This is the ninth book in Robert B. Parker's series featuring Jesse Stone, the police chief in the small town of Paradise, Massachusetts. Also featured prominently is another of Parker's series protagonists, P.I. Sunny Randall. In previous books, Stone and Randall have gradually become involved with each other romantically, and this book seems to exist principally so that their relationship can continue to evolve. The two are both freshly out of relationships that ended badly; both are still at least a bit hung up on their exes, and both are in analysis, so at least they have something in common.

Two cases develop simultaneously, allowing Jesse and Sunny to interact. Sunny has been hired by a wealthy couple to retrieve their daughter from a religious cult in Paradise. The cult seems pretty mild, and so, although some townspeople are unhappy about its existence in their quaint little town, Jesse has had no reason to harass the cult members.

Meanwhile, a low-level mobster has been found in the back of his Escalade, parked in Paradise, with a bullet in his head. This leads Jesse to question two allegedly retired mobsters who are living next door to each other in virtually identical houses. They also have identical wives--twin sisters that apparently the husbands cannot even tell apart. Another dead mobster will soon join the first, and Jess has a very puzzling case on his hands. Save for the inspired actions of a grieving widow, it may never be solved.

Both Sunny's case and Jesse's investigation are fairly insubstantial affairs, but it seems that the main purpose of all of the cases in Parker's later books, the Spenser novels included, was simply to provide some action onto which Parker could hang a lot of witty dialogue. There's certainly no shortage of it here, and while this is a book that no one is likely to long remember, it certainly provides a very pleasant escape on a rainy afternoon.