THE FIFTH WITNESS (The Lincoln Lawyer #4), by Michael Connelly

Times are difficult for defense attorney Mickey Haller: the economy is on a downward slope and even criminals seem less inclined to spend money for an attorney, so Mickey is forced to turn toward the less prestigious but still lucrative field of foreclosure disputes. It might not be as glamorous, but exchanging quality for quantity helps in keeping up with the bills – that is, until something changes in the daily routine: his client Lisa Trammel, one of those battling with foreclosure, is charged with the murder of Mitchell Bondurant, the banker dealing with the reclamation of her home.

Ms. Trammel has become something of a public figure since she opened a website catering to people battling with foreclosure, and mounted several protests against Bondurant’s bank, becoming so obnoxious that a restrictive order has been issued against Lisa. Once the body of Bondurant is found in the bank’s parking lot, the police investigation turns immediately toward Trammel, even though she loudly claims her innocence. There is some circumstantial evidence against her, though, and Haller will need to deploy all of his legal wiles to keep his client from being sentenced as a murderer.

Michael Connelly is my go-to author when I look for a book I’m certain will not disappoint (even more so these days, as I find myself in something of a reading & blogging slump), and he’s also a very skilled writer who knows how to create narrative tension and keep it up all throughout the novel: The Fifth Witness is indeed that kind of book, dealing as it does with the cat-and-mouse play between prosecution and defense as Haller and his counterpart Andrea Freeman, a very determined, very competitive assistant district attorney, spare no tricks to win the battle. And indeed this story shows how a trial is less the search for the truth and more a clash of wills, a chess match where a stalemate is not contemplated, or desired. Haller himself does not care about the guilt or innocence of his clients – although in this case Lisa Trammel does look innocent – but rather cares about a courtroom victory, and the courtroom becomes the battleground where he and his adversary spare no punches to reach their goal.

There is an interesting comparison Haller makes, when speaking about his work, that aptly describes the story told in The Fifth Witness: he likens it to Ravel’s Bolero, which starts quietly with only one or two instruments playing, and slowly but surely gains intensity and moment as more instruments add their voice to the music, until the final crescendo is reached. That’s what happens with the trial – and the parallel investigation conducted by the defense – where the “instruments” Haller brings into play add to the “music” he performs for the jury, to win their hearts and minds in favor of his client.

A client who, despite her protestations of innocence, is as unpredictable and unsympathetic as they come, and in a couple of instances throws an unexpected curveball into the mix and seems to deliberately want to sabotage her own defense, particularly when she gives in to the seduction of notoriety and opens up to the ever-hungry media against her lawyer’s warnings. Haller’s clients, so far, have not been very likable characters but I have to admit that my antipathy for Trammel was immediate and unshakable, so that the story’s final twist, as surprising as it was, did not come as a complete shock.

When the novel does not deal with courtroom debate it focuses on the search for clues about an alternate perpetrator, and here Haller’s staff is portrayed with brief but enlightening touches that add to the story’s depth: from Cisco, the former biker turned skilled investigator, to Lorna, Haller’s second wife for a brief time who now works as his secretary, to Maggie, the lawyer’s first wife and dedicated prosecutor who still harbors some feelings for her ex-husband but cannot abide his methods. They are joined here by Mickey’s young associate, a recent graduate from law school still fueled by ideas of justice and rights: there are many moments in which we see her struggle with the demands of Haller’s practice and with the progressive loss of innocence caused by contact with the harsh reality of courtroom skirmishes.

And of course Mickey Haller’s personality gains a few more facets as the demands of the current trial see him divided between the duty of obtaining a victory for his client and the pull of his conscience: at some point he admits to not being very familiar with integrity, and he knows that’s what his clients need to win, but at the same time he wants the approval of Maggie and of their teenage daughter, he wants to feel worthy of them – and that might be the reason which pushes him, after the conclusion of the trial, to change sides and work as a prosecutor. It was a surprising choice, and it will prove to be both a career change and a change in outlook, and I wonder what this will mean for the next novel – or novels – in line.

What I am certain about is that no matter which field Haller decides to play in, the stories Michael Connelly will tell about him will continue to be as entertaining and compelling as the ones I read so far.

My Rating:

THE DROP (Harry Bosch #15), by Michael Connelly

With long-standing series, no matter their genre, there is always the danger of incurring in a repetitive formula, one that might offer the comfort of a pleasant read, granted, but also one that could ultimately lead to boredom: this is not the case – so far – with Michael Connelly’s Harry Bosch series: this author has the gift of making his stories feel always fresh and engaging, and his main character shows definite signs of change as his age and outlook on life evolve, most probably thanks to the parallel, real-life evolution of his creator.

In this 15th book we find Bosch still investigating cold cases for the Open-Unsolved Unit, and the twenty year old one he and his partner David Chu have just been assigned promises to be a weird one: the DNA analysis on a trace of blood found on the victim just came up with a correspondence in the police database, pointing to a serial offender. Problem is, at the time of the rape and murder of young Lily Price, the offender, Clayton Pell, was 8 years old, so either the crime lab made a mistake, or the detectives who processed the case did: Bosch and Chu really have their work cut out for them… But since there is no rest for the weary, they are also unexpectedly called to a fresh scene, that of a fall from a hotel balcony that could either be murder or suicide: Bosch’s presence has been directly requested by his old nemesis, councilman Irving, because the deceased is his own son George and Irving wants to be assured of the best police work available. No matter his past differences with Bosch, the councilman admits his admiration for the detective’s integrity and wants no one else to deal with the situation.

The book’s title obviously refers to George Irving’s fall from the hotel balcony, but it’s also the acronym for the Deferred Retirement Option Plan, the scheme that allowed Bosch to temporarily return to active duty and that is now reaching its limit: in a little over three years he will have to retire for good, and while that might prove a good opportunity to be a full-time father for his teenage daughter, the detective is not sure he’s ready to give up his life’s mission. This awareness colors his actions and thoughts as he tries to juggle both cases and for the first time in his life feels he might not be up to the task, that his keen instincts might be somewhat dulled by the passage of time.

This might be one of the reasons behind his truly cantankerous treatment of partner David Chu, who is practically kept in the dark about the cold case investigation and used for mostly menial tasks: granted, Chu is young and somewhat inexperienced, and he’s guilty of a serious misstep at some point, but Bosch’s attitude here is inexcusable and stresses the darker side of his character. I appreciate how Connelly shows both the best and the worst of his creature: one does not necessarily have to like a book character to enjoy the way it is portrayed, and I found that it’s refreshing to see how the drive to seek justice for the victims can lead to negative behavior, even for the “hero” of the story.

The dual investigation itself is the propulsive force in the story: on one side there is the search for the murderer of young Lily Price, a trail that in the end points toward a serial killer who acted undisturbed and undiscovered for over two decades; on the other there is the difficult scrutiny into George Irving’s last hours, a case with delicate political implications that might lead to upheavals in the higher echelons of both police force and city administration. These two different and unconnected stories turn the book into a compelling, fast-paced read where each new discovery raises the stakes and makes you eager to get to the truth: while there is never any doubt that Bosch will be able to find the solution to the mysteries he’s dealing with, the process is always a fascinating one and one that never ceases to intrigue me.

At the end of the book, Harry Bosch shows how this recent experience changed him, even if only a little: he acknowledges the rude treatment of his partner and makes some friendly overture that points toward some mellowing of his trademark uncompromising attitude. Maybe the pain of a betrayal from a very unexpected corner taught him that people can be hurt, and that he needs to take human weaknesses into account when dealing with other people. Or maybe fatherhood has melted some of the ice that encases his soul… No matter what, Harry Bosch remains a very intriguing character who I hope will keep being interesting for a long, long time still.

My Rating:

HOLLY, by Stephen King

Holly Gibney, the obsessive-compulsive, shy and reclusive character we first met in Stephen King’s Finders Keepers trilogy has come a long way since those early days, and now she is the protagonist of a novel focused solely on her: she has inherited the investigative agency Finders Keepers from Bill Hodges, who befriended her and started her on her journey of self-reliance, she is moderately successful in her chosen career and has made a few friends who support and understand her quirky personality.

As the novel starts, she is attending her mother’s funeral via Zoom: it’s 2021 and the height of the Covid pandemic, which would be a good reason for the agency to scale down its activities, but when Holly receives the impassioned request of Penny Dahl, whose daughter disappeared after leaving a cryptic message on her bike, she decides to investigate – if nothing else, to avoid dealing with the discovery that her overbearing mother and uncle had concocted a sort of financial fraud to try and keep her under their thumbs and deny her the new-found independence she’s come to appreciate.

As Holly starts her investigation she finds out that Bonnie Dahl is not the only person who disappeared in mysterious circumstances and that there might be a serial killer on the prowl: in this respect, King does not keep his readers in the dark for long because he reveals early on the identity of the killer – or better, killers – focusing rather on Holly’s search for clues and on her slow but constant reach for the truth, which in this case is totally devoid of supernatural elements, but instead sheds light on the horrors that twisted human nature can visit on others. King is not new to this more… mundane approach to horror, and in this case injects it with an added layer of dread thanks to the dichotomy represented by the outward appearance of the two aged professors-turned-killers on one side, and their twisted, appalling motivation for kidnapping and murdering those hapless victims on the other – a bone-chilling folie à deux carried on with gleeful casualness.

From my point of view, Holly turned out to be a story of two halves: on one side the narrative and character exploration half that worked quite well, and on the other what I labeled as the “King’s Manifesto” portion, which did not turn out quite as great. Holly’s journey toward independence and self-assertiveness continues here showing us that she keeps becoming her own person with every passing day: of course the shadow of her mother still peeks from the sidelines now and then, but Holly succumbs less and less to her smothering influence. Of course a big help comes from the discovery that she’s been lied to for a long time about the family’s financial situation, in an attempt to lure her back into the fold: the anger that comes on the heels of this revelation feels like a healthy reaction, and I liked to see how Holly manages to process it all on her own, since this time she is removed from her usual support group, given that both Robinson siblings are very wrapped up in their own affairs and her partner Pete is in isolation because of Covid.

Granted, her insecurities are still there under the surface, and they are expressed in some of her obsessive-compulsive habits, including the chain smoking that made me cringe every time she lighted a cigarette, but it’s encouraging to see her so at ease in her investigative work, so determined to get to the bottom of the mystery that looks even deeper and more gruesome than what she initially thought. Even in her most harrowing, most desperate moments, when it looks that she might become a victim herself, Holly keeps hold of some inner core of strength – and gallows humor – that shows she is not the timid, mouse-like creature that Bill Hodges encountered a few years back, not anymore. And it’s a very encouraging discovery, one that might hopefully lead to more stories about her.

Sadly, the novel’s background did not work for me as well as the personal journeys, mainly because I don’t enjoy any reminders of the Covid times: we all endured those days and that memory is still too fresh for it not to become bothersome – I believe we need some distance, some perspective, before we are able to look at those times with a modicum of equanimity. And then there is what I call the “King’s Manifesto”: we can all agree that the Covid epidemic, like many worldwide occurrences, brought to the fore the best and the worst of humanity, and that it exasperated the polarized stances that have become endemic in our present society. Portraying those opposite attitudes as part of the story’s background did certainly add the necessary depth to the main narrative, but in my opinion it would have worked better if the author had done so with a few, well-placed brush strokes: he decided instead to throw whole bucketfuls of paint to the canvas, so to speak, and did it repeatedly, as if in doubt of his audience’s power of understanding, and that proved quite annoying in the long run, and distracting, while all I wanted was to focus on Holly’s investigation and her search for justice for the victims.

Maybe Stephen King badly needed to vent and took the opportunity to do so here, but I hope that he’s done with the preaching (which never works in favor of good stories…) and will revert back to the bone-chilling storytelling he’s better known for.

My Rating:

THE REVERSAL (The Lincoln Lawyer #3), by Michael Connelly

Of the three novels I’ve read so far in this series this is my favorite, and considering that stories and characterizations have become increasingly better from book 1 to here, I’m certain that this trend is not going to cease any time soon.

The story for The Reversal focuses on the re-opening of the trial against Jason Jessup, who twenty-four years previously was convicted of the kidnapping and murder of a child, snatched from the lawn in front of her own house: DNA analysis of biological traces on the victim’s dress – which was not available at the time of the first investigation – seems to point toward a totally different perpetrator so that the California Supreme Court is asking for a retrial or the acquittal of Jessup. The District Attorney wants someone with no ties to his office for the prosecution, and therefore asks Mickey Haller to take up that role: the reversal in the title then does not refer only to the possible repeal of the previous sentence, but also to Haller having to take on a role that goes against what has been his life’s work so far.

Haller accepts on two conditions: that his second chair be filled by his ex wife Maggie McPherson (also known as Maggie McFierce in the DA office) and that the new investigation be led by none other than Detective Harry Bosch, who Haller knows will leave no stone unturned seeking for the truth.  The trio is certain of Jessup’s guilt, DNA results notwithstanding, but they are fighting an uphill battle with evidence that is a quarter of a century old, with witnesses who are either dead or have forgotten a great deal, and with the dangerous political implications of a case that might make or break many careers.

One of the reasons I so enjoyed The Reversal comes from the interactions of these three very different people who manage to work together toward a common goal: with hindsight I realized that all three of them have to travel some uncharted and uncomfortable territory – Haller is tasked to confirm the man’s guilt and therefore the life sentence that was imposed 24 years before; McPherson must work with the man she divorced because, among other things, their views on justice were at polar opposites; and Bosch has to swim upriver, so to speak, because he needs to re-trace the evidence collected at the time of the first investigation.  What really brings them together is the realization that they need to find justice for the innocent victim whose life was cut horribly short even before she truly started living it.  This is very much a character driven story set in a solid narrative background in which police work and courtroom drama blend into a quite compelling narrative: it’s clear from the start that, despite some doubts to the contrary, Jessup is indeed guilty, but it’s the journey that takes the readers toward this inevitable conclusion that makes this book a proverbial page turner.

By having his two main characters working together, Michael Connelly creates an intriguing partnership between two men whose final goal is that of justice, although they usually move toward it on different paths, and the narrative choice employed here – Haller with first person POV and Bosch with third person – creates an interesting balance that works quite well despite the constant change in perspective.  Another interesting angle comes from the fact that they are both fathers, each of them faced with the difficulties inherent in parenting: where Bosch is now raising his teenage daughter as a single parent, having to balance the needs of his work with those of young Maddie, Haller is something of an estranged father, both because of the divorce and of his recent past of addiction, so he’s trying to regain the lost ground and proceeding through trial and error.

These two halves of the story act as a mirror for the two narrative components, the courtroom sequences and the investigation, both of them influenced by the ever-present political pressures that here are further weighted down by those of the public opinion: Jessup’s defense team has launched a massive campaign to promote the man’s innocence, and of course the public is equally divided into two factions, with the media breathing fuel into the fire for its own advantage.  Connelly inserts a few passing mentions to some real-life equally divisive trials of the time, imbuing the story with another layer of reality that makes it even more compelling.

If I have to find a flaw in this very engrossing story it’s in the end: to me it seemed somewhat abrupt if I consider the long, careful buildup that led to it, and I felt almost cheated of the conclusion that I had hoped for, but to be honest it’s a really small blemish in a totally engrossing canvas, and I’m once again certain that I will not be disappointed in any future reading choices from this author, who is now one of my go-to writers when I feel the need of an immersive story.

My Rating:

THE ECHO MAN (Major Crimes #1), by Sam Holland

I picked up this book because I recently saw a review for the second volume in this series and found it intriguing so I decided to start at the beginning. I then learned that The Echo Man is the author’s debut novel, and it does show in some instances, but overall I found it to be a compelling read: a look into the mind of a serial killer is always intriguing, if chillingly scary – and here the chill factor is played to the hilt, indeed…

DCI Cara Elliot and her colleague DS Noah Deakin are called to the scene of a horrific crime: the bodies of two young girls have been found in an abandoned car, their heads severed, and no apparent leads seem to point toward their killer.  Jess Ambrose is a very unhappy housewife who one night wakes up to a burning house and barely manages to escape with her young daughter, while her husband perishes in the conflagration: while in the hospital she overhears a conversation in which the investigating detective believes her to be responsible and decides to flee before being arrested.  Suspended police officer Nate Griffin (who is also Cara Elliot’s brother), battling with his own demons and a painkiller addiction, teams up with Jess as he believes in her innocence and the two of them understand that a serial killer might be responsible for both crimes.

This, in a nutshell, is the core of the story in The Echo Man, a terrifying thriller in which the police are baffled in their search for the culprit because he does not have his own modus operandi, but rather copies that of more infamous serial offenders of the past – hence the name “Echo Man” that tabloids pin on the perpetrator.  The macabre discoveries of the various crime scenes foils the investigative teams’ efforts because of their sheer unpredictability and also lays a pall of horror for the brutality of the killings.   This is certainly not a novel for the faint-hearted because while the author does not use her descriptions in a morbid fashion, she certainly does not pull her punches while conveying the killer’s methods or – in the chapters where we follow his POV – his twisted thoughts.    

The overall mood of this story is indeed dark and at times even disturbing, but the pacing moves relentlessly forward, proving it near to impossible to put the book down. This story does require, however, some suspension of disbelief because there are a few narrative choices that I found disconcerting, the major one being that it’s Jess-the-bored-housewife who manages to make the connection between the various murder scenes and points out the similarity to past equally shocking killings, and the reason she does before the police is because she is a fan of televised true crime.  Still remaining on Jess (yes, I freely admit to NOT liking her at all…) she manages to sneak in on a crime scene together with Griffin, and that while she is still a wanted fugitive – more than once I wondered about the reason for the presence of her character in the story, given that it would have worked just as well without her, if not better.  But that’s just me, of course.

Other characters fared much better for me, particularly that of Cara Elliot: I could sympathize with her difficulties in managing a demanding career in law enforcement with her role as a wife and a mother, and with the palpable tension in her home as she came to suspect that her husband might be having an affair with the children’s nanny.  I could also understand why she felt thorn between the requirements of the job and her affection – and worry – for her brother, whose instincts she was not sure she could trust given the sorry state he was in after a terrible personal tragedy. The characters’ personal demons are indeed what makes them interesting and relatable (at least most of them…) and there are a few heated personal exchanges that manage to ramp up the tension in an already quite tense situation.

The ending is the part of the novel that disappointed me a little: apart from having guessed the identity of the killer almost halfway through (while I instead enjoy being surprised), I found the resolution somewhat weak if confronted with the narrative buildup, and the inclusion of a second twist did not entirely convince me – given that this second twist leaves the road open for a sequel I will reserve my judgment until I read the second book in the series, but still I’m not sure it really worked for me.

Nonetheless, I did enjoy my journey through The Echo Man and I’m eager to see how this series moves forward with the second book.

My Rating:

THE BRASS VERDICT (The Lincoln Lawyer #2), by Michael Connelly

As I wrote in the review for the first book in this series, The Lincoln Lawyer, I ended up reading the first three volumes back to back, which enhanced my experience with the continued journey of this new-to-me character.   

On the heels of the final twist in book 1, where Mickey Haller was shot and seriously injured, we find the Lincoln Lawyer trying to pick up the pieces of his life: the injury resulted in his addiction to painkillers and that reflected quite negatively on his work. Imagine his surprise when he’s called by a judge who informs him of the murder of former colleague Jerry Vincent, who listed Mickey as his successor in the case of his premature death: suddenly saddled with a heavy caseload, in which a news-worthy murder trial stands out prominently, Haller decides that he will do his best to swim instead of sinking and launches himself bodily into what looks like a new lease in life.

The big case is a complicated one: movie producer Walter Elliot is accused of having murdered his wife and her lover when he discovered them in bed in the Elliots’ Malibu house. The man protests his innocence, and indeed the evidence is more circumstantial than anything else, but his overbearing attitude keeps grating on Mickey’s nerves and makes it more difficult than usual to maintain the emotional detachment he needs as a defense attorney.  Moreover, it looks as if Jerry Vincent’s murder was tied to one of his pending cases, and Haller is not sure which one it was since the colleague’s important notes were in the briefcase that was stolen after he was killed, so Mickey must also keep watching behind his back for a potential threat to his life.   As an added burden, the investigation for the Vincent case has been assigned to a certain Harry Bosch, and the two men clash immediately when having to tread the difficult waters of investigative needs versus client confidentiality, and it takes some time before the lawyer and the detective are able to find some common ground, and some mutual respect, that will allow them to do their respective jobs.

One of the qualities I most enjoy in Michael Connelly’s works is his ability to keep his characters in constant evolution from book to book, which confers them an added depth and a great deal of believability. Haller starts at a great disadvantage here, because he’s emerging from the tunnel of addiction and is trying very hard to regain the confidence of his first wife and their daughter, and also because he’s unsure about his grasp on the courtroom skills which served him so well in the past: Connelly’s main characters are flawed individuals driven to do their best in their line of work, and that drive sometimes leads them to tunnel vision, and yet that makes them more human and more approachable than the average book characters.   

I particularly enjoyed the juxtaposition between Haller and Bosch here: where Haller is gifted with a good deal of quirky humor – more often than not aimed at himself – we get to understand him better as someone who knows all the nooks and crannies of the legal system and knows how to use them to his advantage, while the external focus on Bosch as another character rather than the protagonist shows us the sullen, antagonistic personality of the proverbial dog with a bone.  In a way, they are similarly dedicated to their mission – Haller to his clients, Bosch to the victims – but their first encounter on the opposite sides of the fence is of course bound to ignite some fiery sparks: it will take a while, and some intriguing developments, for the two of them to realize that they might work for the same goal, even if they take different roads to get there.  And of course the discovery of their connection – they are half brothers on their father’s side – does help in bridging part of the gap…

Story-wise, The Brass Verdict is your typical Connelly story, one that starts in a leisurely manner but gains speed and momentum as information and discoveries pile up and the tension increases along with the personal stakes: it’s interesting to note that the first words of the novel are “everybody lies”, which means that it would be better not to take anything we read at face value. Where Harry Bosch knows very well that felons lie (and sometimes even victims do…), we learn that indeed everybody – police officers, lawyers, witnesses, even judges – do lie when situations and their own interests are involved, so you can expect a good number of narrative twists and turns in this story.  What positively surprised me in this new series, is that the courtroom drama can be as gripping and intriguing as any police investigation, since Michael Connelly shows here that his knowledge of the legal system is just as broad as that of police procedures: it takes great skills to keep courtroom back-and-forth as lively as a spirited car chase along the avenues of Los Angeles, and the author shows those skills quite well here – as an example, what might otherwise have been a mundane proceeding as that of jury selection is turned here into an intriguing look into applied psychology and mental fencing between prosecution and defense.

The Brass Verdict confirmed me that I have another winner in this series, and even though my TBR hardly needed it, I’m quite happy to have added it to my reading materials.

My Rating:

THE LINCOLN LAWYER (The Lincoln Lawyer #1), by Michael Connelly

In my recent discovery of the works of Michael Connelly, through his Harry Bosch series, I became acquainted with his other successful saga featuring defense lawyer Mickey Haller: just like it happened with Bosch, I “met” Haller first in his cinematic version with the movie The Lincoln Lawyer and then through the more recent Netflix series with the same title.  Jumping from screen to book was indeed a given for me, and the narrative links between the two book series made me often think of another successful TV show, Law and Order, with Bosch representing the “Law” side of the story and Haller taking the “Order” role through the intriguing courtroom scenes which are the backbone of the story and that appeal to me even more than police procedurals.  

Mickey Haller is a defense attorney nicknamed “The Lincoln Lawyer” because he prefers to do all his work aboard a Lincoln Town Car, while his driver shuttles him all over Los Angeles between the courtrooms and the prisons – yes because Mickey’s clientele mostly comes from the lower strata of society: biker gangs, small-time offenders, prostitutes and so on.  He’s well-known in those circles for being the kind of lawyer who often manages to acquit his clients, or when that doesn’t work, to get them a reduced sentence.  He works with quantity rather than quality, and is always looking for the “coup” that might present him with some financial stability, which he sorely needs given that he has two ex-wives – one of them a prosecutor he often meets while touring courtrooms and the other presently working as his case manager – and a hillside house with a great view, which he’s still paying for. 

So, when one of his many contacts presents him with the potential for a “franchise client”, the kind of client who promises steady income over the years, he does not look too closely into this proverbial gift horse’s mouth, hardly wondering why affluent Louis Roulet wanted someone like Haller to defend him against the accusation of having savagely beaten a prostitute.  Roulet looks and sounds innocent – something of a change given Haller’s usual clientele – but some inconsistencies in the course of the investigation compel the lawyer to look closely at the evidence and bring him to a devastating discovery, one that forces him to navigate the extremely narrow margin between his commitment as an attorney and his conscience.

By now I know that Michael Connelly’s writing never fails to engage me, but with this novel I was even more intrigued than usual, to the point that I did something I rarely – if ever – do: I read the first three books in the series back to back, and I not only avoided any kind of “story fatigue”, but I ended up feeling eager to continue with the series.  Hook, line and sinker, indeed…  What I found fascinating, besides the story itself, is the dichotomy between Haller’s outwardly sleazy persona and his own ethics, a divide that creates a multi-faceted, quite humanly believable character.  He is a man very focused on his work and somehow haunted by the ghost of his father, a famous lawyer whose professional shadow he keenly feels, even though the man died when Mickey was still a child. 

I’m indulging in a little spoiler here, because it’s not a major one: Haller and Bosch are half brothers from that father’s side (something that I already knew thanks to my searches about Connelly’s works, and that is revealed in the second novel), and it’s interesting here to look for the two men’s points of contact and differences – despite the opposing sides of the law in which they work, they are both quite committed to their profession, to the point that both of them have sacrificed emotional entanglements to pursue that drive, but where Bosch is his very own man, forced from early childhood to depend only on himself, Haller often feels the weight of that larger-than-life father and the unconscious need to be “worthy” of his legacy. In the end, both men are striving for justice, each in his own different way and through totally different means, and I’m certain that the juxtaposition of these two characters will offer many intriguing considerations down the road.

In this first Lincoln Lawyer novel, Michael Connelly fuses very successfully characterization and plot, creating an engrossing story that quite deserves the title of “page turner”: once again I came to the written word after experiencing the plot through the cinematic medium, and yet I was never bored or distracted by that knowledge because this is the kind of writer who knows how to capture his audience’s attention and keep it riveted from start to finish.  Here the mix of courtroom debate, police investigation and unexpected twists and turns takes the readers through a story that is more than a simple legal thriller because it also explores, very compellingly, the nooks and crannies of the human soul while it showcases the intricacies of the legal system in a way that is everything but pedantic.

It’s true that my TBR hardly needed another book series to weigh it down, but this new addition promises to offer many hours of absorbing reading, so I will not complain…. 😉

My Rating:

THE DIRTY SECRETS CLUB (Jo Beckett #1), by Meg Gardiner

Sometimes it’s not such a good idea to go back to the earlier works of an author whose novels I enjoyed, and that proved to be the case with Meg Gardiner, whose Unsub series has been one of my best finds in the thriller/mystery category.  Since I enjoyed those books very much, while I was waiting for the fourth Unsub novel to come out I decided to give The Dirty Secrets Club a look, but sadly it did not compare with Gardiner’s later efforts, even though it was a swift, reasonably entertaining read.  It’s clear that in the nine years between this book and the first Unsub novel the author honed her skills considerably, so I guess I will limit myself to her newest offerings in the future.

The main character in The Dirty Secrets Club is Jo Beckett, a forensic psychiatrist: her job is to examine the personality and life of the victims of equivocal deaths, to shed some light on the circumstances that brought them to their demise.  Jo is quite similar to Gardiner’s other heroine, Caitlin Hendrix, in that she is a mixture of strength and vulnerability, and very determined in her chosen profession – there is a grievous personal tragedy in her past that often weighs on her mind, and she still suffers from the claustrophobic effects of having been trapped in a car during a past earthquake, but her resolve in not letting these problems affect her and her work is indeed one of her most admirable characteristics.

At the start of the novel, Jo is called by San Francisco PD Lieutenant Amy Tang to help in the investigation of a string of murder/suicides that seems to be targeting some of the most notable individuals in the city: a fashion designer blew up his boat, killing himself and his lover; a famous surgeon died of a suspicious heart attack after his son succumbed to a drug overdose; and more recently a US attorney launched her car from an overpass, killing herself and the passengers of a passing vehicle, and seriously wounding her assistant.  At the scenes of these events are often present baffling words like “Pray” or “Dirty” and no one is able to understand the reason why these people, who had everything to look forward to in life or career, choose to end their existence in such a publicly dramatic way.

With the latest suicide, that of a sports star who dived from the Golden Gate Bridge, Jo and the police stumble on the existence of the Dirty Secrets Club: its members are prominent figures of society who enlist by revealing their most troubling, most damning secrets, the thrill of discovery probably offset by the conviction of being untouchable due to their position.  Someone is however targeting the members of the club, someone with a powerful grudge and a driving need for vengeance, and soon enough Jo will find herself enmeshed in this mysterious person’s plots….

As I said at the start of this review, The Dirty Secrets Club does not compare, both narratively and character-wise, with the author’s more recent novels, although I have to admit that the story is an engaging one and the need to understand the mystery at its roots is a powerful motivator to keep on reading, but unfortunately the plot is a bit confusing at times and is burdened by some long expositions that at times hobble the pace, particularly toward the end when the Bad Guy falls prey to the trope-y compelling need to Tell Everything Before The End, which to me often robs of any drama what should be a tense situation.

Still, the story remains a reasonably compelling one and Meg Gardiner’s writing – even in these earlier stages of her career – takes you along for the ride with little effort, which proves to be a great help in suspending one’s disbelief at the more eye-rolling plot instances.   Certainly this was not my favorite pick from this writer’s production, but it was an… honest story – for want of a better word – and one I don’t regret reading at all.

My Rating:

9 DRAGONS (Harry Bosch #14), by Michael Connelly

This fourteenth novel in Michael Connelly’s Harry Bosch series brings about some huge changes in the life of the titular detective, some of them quite momentous, and also sees him take his investigations outside of the usual hunting grounds in the city of Los Angeles, because part of the action in Nine Dragons happens in Hong Kong – the “Chinese Connection” being indeed the leading force in this story.

The novel starts with a somewhat bored Harry Bosch waiting for some intriguing case he can sink his proverbial teeth into, and at first fates seem to have heard his wish because what looks like the run-of-the-mill robbery/murder of a liquor store owner soon shows important connections with the triads, the powerful Chinese criminal syndicate.  As he searches for clues to solve the case, he’s in contact with his daughter Madeline – now a teenager and living in Hong Kong with her mother – who managed to move stubbornly analog Bosch into the digital age and the joys of video communication and email.  Soon after he asked her some innocent information about Chinese characters that turned out in the course of the investigation, Bosch receives first a warning about not delving too deeply into it, and then a video in which a bound and gagged Maddie has been abducted by elements of the triads and is being used as leverage against her father.

Driven in equal parts by fear and rage, Bosch flies to Hong Kong to find his daughter, this time putting all his unstoppable drive into a very personal, anguished quest which will bring unexpected allies and equally unexpected losses as his search for justice cuts far too close to home…

Throughout the book series, so far, Bosch has been depicted as an uncompromising individual who stops at nothing to obtain justice for the victims, someone who puts the needs of his chosen work before any other consideration – even personal ones.  There are several passages in 9 Dragons in which he’s disdainful toward his working partner’s less-than-total dedication to the job, since Detective Ferras is a family man with young children and he requires personal time to see to their needs, which is more than understandable – but not for Bosch.   Harry is a father, and a very devoted one, but not a full-time one, and he does not seem to understand the kind of commitment required by parenthood, so when Maddie is abducted it’s easy to see some form of poetic justice in the situation, one that he might have unconsciously anticipated 

He would be forever connected to the world in the way only a father would. But he would also be lost because he knew the dark forces he faced would one day find her

but still not completely realized. So, when the worst case scenario suddenly materialized, we can see how totally Harry Bosch unravels and launches in search of his missing daughter with no thoughts for consequences – and some of them will be tragic indeed…

9 Dragons is a very engrossing novel carried by an unrelenting pace, with the added bonus of being set in a different background from the usual seedier corners of L.A.: the Hong Kong in this book is a living, breathing city with its own lights and shadows and it’s interesting to see how Bosch reacts to these uncharted territories whose rules he’s not familiar with and where unknown dangers come from the most unexpected places.

My favorite side of this story comes from the relationship between Bosch and his daughter: as I mentioned often, I became familiar with this character through the TV series inspired by Connelly’s books – in there Maddie is already a teenager,  and the interactions between her and her father are among the highlights of the episodes, so seeing the first examples of that relationship here was a welcome addition. This novel also brings a pivotal change in Bosch’s life because at the end he finds himself in the role of a full-time father, so it will be interesting to see how this change will affect him both as a person and as a dedicated detective: where Bosch was able to dismiss previous emotional attachments if they interfered with his work, or his work ethics, now he can’t enjoy that luxury anymore. That’s why I spoke of poetic justice before: it would seem that fates finally got tired of his hubris and decided to give him a taste of the “medicine” he visited on others.

Once again Michael Connelly puts his character through life-changing experiences, which helps maintaining it fresh and compelling, and this new twist in the detective’s lifestyle promises to be one that will require him to perform some mental adjustments and some professional transitions as well: I can’t wait to see how the new responsibilities of fatherhood will affect his work ethics and how his relationship with his teenaged daughter will transform his personal and professional life.  One thing is certain: this series continues to be delightfully unpredictable and completely intriguing, so my expectations for future installments remain quite high.

My Rating:

DECEMBER PARK, by Ronald Malfi

After my positive encounters with Ronald Malfi’s Black Mouth, Come With Me and Ghostwritten I was eager to explore more of his works and settled on December Park, which promised to mix a coming of age story with a murder mystery focused on a serial killer.  Unfortunately something must have been wrong with the blender, so to speak, because this novel did not totally work its magic on me this time.

December Park is set in the early ’90s in the small town of Harting Farms, on the Eastern Coast of the USA: Angelo and his friends Peter, Michael and Scott are looking forward to the end of school and to a summer of freedom, but when children start disappearing and one girl is found dead in a local park, a shadow falls over the town.  As the abductor/killer, soon nicknamed the Piper, keeps going on undisturbed and the police seems to flounder in the absence of clues as to his identity or the fate of the missing kids, Angelo and Co., together with Adrian, a boy who came to live in Harting Farms only recently, decide to hunt for clues on their own and to uncover the Piper’s identity.  What begins almost as a lark becomes increasingly risky as the five boys’ search moves to dangerous grounds and turns from the initial adventure into a potentially deadly obsession.

Let’s start with what worked for me, and worked well: December Park is, first and foremost, a coming of age story, and as such it portrays very well the journey these five sixteen-years-old kids undertake on this fateful summer.  Told from Angelo’s point of view (one that for several reasons makes me think there is something of the author in his characterization), it shows the mix of childish impulses and yearning for adulthood that’s typical of their age. These are basically good kids despite a few “sins” like covertly smoking or enjoying Halloween pranks: the bond of friendship between them, which later on includes newcomer Adrian who is a somewhat weird kid, is a solid one and one of the best elements of the story, made even more real by the delightful banter that peppers their exchanges. I enjoyed seeing how they, bit by bit, manage to bring Adrian out of his shell and how he responds to them: being the newcomer and a solitary soul, he might have been the perfect target for scorn or abuse, but they bring him into their orbit and after a while he even becomes the main drive behind their search for the Piper.  The atmosphere of a small, quiet town that still harbors a few secrets, and a few unsavory characters – like the older boy who loves to bully younger kids – is also rendered very well.

It’s intriguing to observe how the dread that falls over Harting Farms manages to keep young people and their parents apart: there is a certain sense of resignation, for want of a better word, in the way the adult population reacts to the disappearances; even Angelo’s father, who is a detective and therefore active in the investigation, looks more dejected than anything else. For their part the young people, or at least the five the story focuses on, appear instead obsessed with uncovering the identity of the Piper, to the point that they put their lives on the line more than once to solve the mystery.  This divide is, however, one of the elements that did not work for me, because if on one side it helped in establishing the pall of dread over the town, on the other it did not feel realistic, particularly considering the impending danger: what the five accomplish, the risks they take more than once, all happen while the adults are virtually absent and unknowing, and I find it highly improbable that a community would be so deaf and blind to the antics of a group of teenagers, given the underlying circumstances.

And since I have now opened the “book of grievances”, I have to admit that the book feels too long, too meandering: given the matter at hand I would have preferred a tighter narrative, while here there is much space given to the five’s musings (which for some time amount to nothing since they have no clues at all) and to their endless cycling through the town’s streets. Still, this is a minor problem, and I easily solved it by skipping ahead in search of more interesting sections; the major one stands in the revelation of the Piper’s identity, because it comes out of the blue and to me it makes little or no sense at all.  

When reading mysteries we – not unlike Angelo & friends – tend to consider the various people the author introduces, evaluating the clues and forming an opinion that might or might not be the correct one; and when the revelation occurs we can either congratulate ourselves for the powers of our intuition, or acknowledge that we were barking up the wrong tree. But what happens when we discover that the monster is someone we never saw before? Someone who was never part of the story? I felt a little cheated, to say the truth, and even more so because there is no explanation whatsoever for the reasons behind the Piper’s actions, or at least none that I could consider valid.

I keep thinking that as a coming of age novel December Park was a beautifully written story carried by five well-crafted, realistic characters who embarked on an “adventure” that proved formative and enlightening. It’s a pity that the final resolution marred this story with such an undeserved inconsistency….

My Rating: