Crime Fiction Roundup
“Bone on Bone”
Few, if any, mystery writers have treated the opioid crisis as powerfully as former Tribune columnist Julia Keller does in her latest Bell Elkins novel, which focuses on the destruction of an "average" family in Bell's troubled hometown of Acker's Gap, W.Va. That's where a prominent businessman is shot dead in his driveway by someone connected to his addicted young son. And it's where, even before the shooting, the destructive boy's mother has holed up in a doll room in the attic thinking about shooting him to put an end to the ordeal.
Former prosecutor Bell can do only so much to help on the case. She just emerged from nearly three years in prison after confessing to the murder of her abusive father when she was a child. For decades, she thought her older sister Shirley had committed the crime. Why, having long ago convinced Bell that she, Shirley, did the terrible deed and taken the rap to protect her sibling, does a dying Shirley feel compelled to tell her the truth now? The answer isn't very satisfying.
And does Bell, who spends much of her time in passive mode researching the pharmaceutical company dumping its signature painkiller on the state, really think she's going to get it to atone for its sins? Keller writes with such empathy and cutting strength, she overcomes any narrative lapses. And in the face of ongoing tragedy, she somehow lifts spirits.
“The Man Who Came Uptown”
In his first novel in five years, George Pelecanos pulls back from the brutal violence and internecine scheming that frequently mark his crime fiction to tell the basic tale of a bright young man trying to escape the transgressions of his youth. Unexpectedly released early from a five-year term in federal prison on a felony gun conviction, Michael Hudson settles into a day job in his hometown of Washington, D.C., and uses his free time to pursue his newfound love of books. But then he is visited by Phil Ornazian, a private investigator with "blurred" ethics who got Michael's sentence shortened by leaning on a key witness in the case. In return, Ornazian wants Michael to drive the getaway car when he and his ex-cop partner break into a brothel owner's house and steal wads of money. Supremely cool under pressure, Michael does as he is asked, at considerable risk.
Like his hero Elmore Leonard, Pelecanos finds the humanity in the lowest of lowlifes (the garrulous Ornazian is so proud of his wife, he thinks nothing of showing nude photos of her to friends). And Pelecanos' peppery dialogue energizes every page. As a bonus, the book offers an ongoing "read list" of the author's favorites, including Don Carpenter's "Hard Rain Falling," Chris Offutt's "Kentucky Straight" and Willy Vlautin's "Northline." Picturing them on Michael's new bookshelf, you can't help but smile.
“Under a Dark Sky”
Chicago author Lori Rader-Day makes no effort to hide the primary influence on her new mystery, “Under a Dark Sky.” “You're mixed up in some kind of Agatha Christie (expletive)," protagonist Eden Wallace's sister says to her. Well, it's unlikely Poirot would know what to make of the 20-something college friends with whom Eden unexpectedly shares a weeklong retreat at a "dark sky" resort in northern Michigan. But then Eden, our narrator, doesn't know quite what to make of her unwanted companions, either. A Chicagoan in her 30s, she has driven up for a weekend she was to have spent celebrating her wedding anniversary with her husband. But months back, he died in a car crash. She wants to be alone, but being stuck with rowdy post-collegians goes from awkward to much worse when one of them is found dead with a screwdriver stuck in his neck. As the police investigate, jealousies and grudges seep out, secrets are exposed, people get hurt, and Eden herself is marked as a suspect.
Setting herself apart from Christie wannabes, Rader-Day bounces the characters off one another to sometimes hilarious effect, while at the same time reflecting on the inner state of a woman left alone and grieving. Eden's recovery is complicated by her inability to withstand darkness, or sleeplessness, since her husband's death. "I wasn't guilty," she asks her dizzy, detached self. "Was I?"