The Politician
DS George Cross has autism and is envied by his peers for his nonpareil analytical skills and his case closure rate, albeit disliked by many for his limited social skills. When investigating a crime scene, his synapses fire differently from fellow cops with more conventional thinking patterns, and such is the case in his latest adventure, The Politician, book four in Tim Sullivan’s critically acclaimed series. The killing of Peggy Frampton, the onetime mayor of Bristol, England, is initially written off as a burglary gone wrong. It will be thoroughly investigated, of course, because of the notoriety of the mayor’s social position and her later life as an advice columnist, during which she accumulated an impressive list of detractors issuing death threats. DS Cross will have nothing of the botched burglary theory, however; to him, the evidence strongly suggests that the theft of some valuables was simply a smoke screen for a targeted killing. Suspects include everyone but the butler, only because there is no butler. There are, however, wayward family members, political foes and tortured souls galore damaged by the advice column—a sizable pool of candidates indeed. Sullivan spins a compelling tale while giving a glimpse into the day-to-day life of a person with autism.
First Sign of Danger
Haven’s Rock is a sanctuary city for its 87 residents, a totally off-the-grid location deep in the Yukon. No phones, no internet, no nothing. Despite the low number of inhabitants, a surprising amount of crime takes place, perhaps in part because everyone there lives under an assumed identity, hiding who-knows-what secrets from their checkered pasts. The latest in Kelley Armstrong’s Haven’s Rock series, First Sign of Danger, finds Casey Duncan and Eric Dalton, the married couple who serve as two-thirds of the town police force, giving aid to a pair of wilderness hikers who say they have gotten disoriented in the forest. It is a sketchy story at best: Who hikes when temperatures are approaching zero and the grizzly bears are foraging for hibernation food? The story appears markedly sketchier the next day, when one of the hikers, now quite dead, is observed being dragged by a grizzly to its lair. Moreover, judging by the bruising on the man’s neck, it seems that the cause of death was not mauling by bear. Strictly speaking, as the death did not take place within the Haven’s Rock town limits, Casey and Eric are under no obligation to investigate, as the wilderness can be unforgiving to the uninitiated. On the other hand, a murderer nearby would suggest a connection to Haven’s Rock, and that is cause for concern. Doubly concerning is the fact that the second hiker is nowhere to be found. Dead as well? Or is she the killer in question? Lots of tension, a few red herrings to munch on and an atmospheric, Arctic-adjacent landscape: What’s not to like?
Missing Sister
As Joshilyn Jackson’s thriller Missing Sister opens, Penny Albright, rookie cop, second chair in a patrol car, is about to roll up to her first homicide case. I will pause here just for a moment to mention that Penny is, or was, a twin until the death of her sister, Nix. OK, now back to our scheduled program: The victim in Penny’s first homicide case is Danny Bowery, one of the men she holds responsible for her sister’s death, a man she wished to never see again—and now it appears she has gotten her wish. As she investigates the periphery of the crime scene, Penny discovers an attractive blond woman wielding a box cutter, her ivory-colored pants stained black in the moonlight; had it been daytime, the red of fresh bloodstains would have been as visible as rubies in snow. The woman then makes a cryptic comment about Bowery, whose death was clearly at her hands. This is not a story about police at all; it is a story about sisters. And against all her training and better judgment, Penny whispers to her, “Run.” Unlikely as this may seem in real life, it certainly propels the storyline along at breakneck speed. Missing Sister is full of surprises, and it raises the question of whether revenge is worth sacrificing one’s integrity. Perhaps?
★The Tree of Light and Flowers
Of all the books I read for this month’s column, the recently deceased Thomas Perry’s The Tree of Light and Flowers was the only one I read in one sitting. Could. Not. Put. It. Down. (OK, I did read it on a laptop, but I still read it in one go.) Jane Whitefield has—more or less—settled into life as a suburban mom and housewife, but she used to run a private version of a witness protection program, a modern-day Underground Railroad of sorts. She still possesses the skills, still maintains the contacts, and every now and then an injustice demands her intervention, at which time she steps in and helps a deserving someone to vanish. This time out, however, she has awakened a couple of sleeping and very cranky bears: one an Oklahoma police officer whose brother was killed (likely justifiably) by Jane’s current client, the other a longtime criminal adversary who very nearly died at Jane’s hand, as a result of underestimating Jane’s skill set. This is a mistake she does not intend to make a second time. The primary characters are pragmatic, lethal. In another life, they could have been license-to-kill spies. The gripping plot is a primer for those who would like to disappear off the grid, and the wrap-up is very satisfying.
