September 2005

Wow!  Was it us, or did Summer just zip by faster than usual this year? Well, get ready for chillier temperatures and plenty of mayhem, because the Morgue is back and open for business (actually, we never went away, but saying "the Morgue is still here and didn't go anyplace" just didn't have the same zip)!

This month's issue will reward you with 15 mystery book reviews, from authors like Donna Andrews, Chester D. Campbell, Michael Connelly, Jeff Sherratt, J.A. Konrath and N.S. Wikarski (actually not authors like them—them!).

But wait—there's more! You'll also find a very interesting "How We Write" essay by J.J. Lamb and Bette Golden Lamb, giving great insight into the act of collaboration, as well as cohabitation.

And there's a fascinating interview with Naomi Rand, author of the Emma Price series, discussing location in mystery, the benefit of a little distance and how you don't have to live the circumstances to write about them.

If you haven't been following our wild serial mystery, "Murder By Committee," here's your chance to catch up on the goings-on that Julia Spencer-Fleming started for us 17 chapters ago!  All 17 are available for those new to the tale, and you'll see the styles and tones taken by the authors so far has made this one crazy ride.  This month: Bob Avey channels his inner Dean Koontz, and ups the body count.  Check it out!

Meanwhile, enjoy the cooler weather, the apple picking, cider donuts and a good mystery.  It's all here... except the apples and the donuts.

In this month's issue:

How We Write, by J.J. Lamb and Bette Golden Lamb
Naomi Rand—The Mystery Morgue Interview

Reviews:
Owl's Well That Ends Well, by Donna Andrews
The Perfect Paragon, by M. C. Beaton
Invitation To Murder, by Elizabeth Bright
The Magdalen Martyrs, by Ken Bruen
Deadly Illusions, by Chester D. Campbell
The Lincoln Lawyer, by Michael Connelly
Deadly Collection, by Elaine Flinn
The Chairman, by Stephen Frey
Unzipped, by Lois Greiman
Whiskey Sour, by J.A. Konrath
Six to Five... Against, by Jeff Sherratt
Dangerous Curves, by Judith Skillings
Deadly Research, By George, by P. J. Stelzer
Grave Review, by Cynthia Thomason
Shrouded In Thought, by N. S. Wikarski

Ongoing Story:
"Murder by Committee," Chapter 17, by Bob Avey

Link to Archives

 

How We Write
by J.J. Lamb and Bette Golden Lamb

J.J. Lamb and Bette Golden Lamb, authors of Heir Today..., their latest collaboration, give us a great deal of insight into how two authors can be better—and sometimes worse—than one, but how getting through the rough spots can be extremely rewarding.  Don't miss this look into collaborating with one's spouse. 

Essentially, there's magic to be found in the mere act of two people sitting down to create something together, to give birth to a story that never before existed.

Heir Today... (Five Star) is the second of our co-authored efforts to be published and, looking back, we've come to accept that the "you and I" of writing a book together can be both a daunting and a life-altering adventure.

To be fair, other writers warned us from the beginning that attempting to cohabitate and collaborate could produce some dire results.  And we're the first to admit there have been some volatile moments.  We would argue, though, that there are many more positives than negatives.

It's often said that two heads are better than one.  Well, that certainly depends on which two heads you're talking about.  With these two heads, it ain't necessarily so.

For instance, once we were camping along the Central California coast.  Just after settling down in our sleeping bag after a cook-out and an ever-contentious game of Scrabble, one of us came up with an idea for a short story.  We played with the concept for a long time and expanded it into a super idea for a novel.

We were both too lazy, though, to crawl out of our comfy sleeping bag to get pen and paper.  Besides, we reasoned, there was no way two people could forget such a terrific idea.

Next morning, neither of us could remember a single thing about that story idea.  Maybe it's Heir Today...; we just don't know.  Two heads better than one?

There's also the question of just how difficult is it to collaborate with your bed partner?

Well, it can be tough, even brutal at times.  When you talk about collaboration and cohabitation, you're talking about the potential for crushed egos.  It was only when we were willing to give up ownership of the words and concentrate solely on the story that anything really valuable grew out of our efforts.

With our first published book—Bone Dry (Five Star)—we agreed it was necessary to make certain there was an equal division of labor.  We knew that in the end, it would be crucial for each of us to be satisfied that the other had been a real partner in creating the manuscript.

We tried a number of approaches—writing alternate chapters, individual concentration on specific characters, developing certain types of situations and settings, and that sort of thing.

Unfortunately, the process was time consuming and didn't accomplish anything salable.  Somewhere along the line the story got lost while we were trying to divide up the "work" of writing.

Finally, we solved the problem by having one of us, usually Bette, write the first draft of a new book, with J.J. providing input with respect to plot and character development.

Not only is this much faster, we're able to hold onto the excitement of the story.  When it's time for that final draft, we physically sit down side-by-side at the computer, where two heads, four hands, and one keyboard go through the manuscript from first to last page.

That's where the magic unfolds to create a third, distinct writing voice.

Lapses?  Oh, yes!  The sale of Bone Dry was predicated on writing an epilogue, in less than a week.

Under the pressure of time, we reverted to the old ways, each of us sitting down to write separate epilogues.  We exchanged them, hated each other's version, and went back to our individual keyboards.  We went through this word wrangling seven times before acknowledging that we needed to do it together.

Two bodies, four hands, and one keyboard turned out a great epilogue in virtually no time at all.

Almost the same thing happened with Heir Today...—the publisher demanded an additional 10,000 words.  Again, on short deadline.

After much "How, how, how?," we got the two heads in synch and we went through the manuscript together, agreed on areas that could be expanded, divided up the work, and then put it all together via our successful two-person, one-keyboard approach.  No messing around this time!

We've done this dance now through a half-dozen manuscripts and we can still hear the music.

 

Naomi Rand—The Mystery Morgue Interview

Naomi Rand, author of the Emma Price series, writes a heroine who is a single mother, a detective and a Brooklynite. Rand herself is none of those things—although she would say she's still from Brooklyn, having exiled herself to New Jersey just before the first book was accepted for publication.  In this interview, she discusses her experience and her process, as well as the fallacy that the author needs to "live the situation" before being able to write about it.

You moved to New Jersey just before becoming published with a mystery series that takes place in Brooklyn.  Does distance make observation more acute?

Naomi Rand: Most definitely. I found that only by being away from Brooklyn and NYC could I get perspective. I know this is odd, but I had grown up in NYC and spent much of my life there, I was just too close. By being twelve miles west literally, and miles away figuratively, I found myself willing and able to see the city as a protagonist, as a place that was also an entity, one that completely informed Emma's daily life, as it had mine.

Your protagonist, Emma Price, becomes a mother just as her husband announces he's leaving.  Much of the series concerns her struggles as a single parent.  You're not a single parent.  Is it hard to project yourself into that situation?

Actually no. Every marriage has ups and downs, and I have many friends who are or were in similar unpleasant situations. I simply let loose with all that I'd seen and heard, and added in a little of, "what if?"

Did you conceive of the first Emma Price novel, The One That Got Away, as the beginning of a series, or was it a surprise when your publisher asked for more Emma stories?

My agent sold it as a two-book contract. My editor was thrilled. He was a lovely man and this was the first mystery he'd ever bought. For him, it was a real departure. When he died, unexpectedly, we sold the third to my current editor, who had taken over editing the second. By then, the series was established as such.

You received a grant from the New Jersey Council on the Arts for fiction.  How did that come about, and how did it affect your subsequent work?

At the time, it was a stroke of unbelievable luck, and it made me believe that eventually I might end up a published author, after writing thirteen unpublished novels and having seven agents.

There seem to be a good number of mystery authors writing in or about New Jersey.  Is there something in the air there?

New Jersey is filled with stories, though I write about NY. And also writers, at least where I live. It's the ultimate suburban state, in some ways, in others filled with places people just don't know about, then again, now it's Sopranos country, there are so many things to tap, and living there, I find myself really intrigued.

Your non-fiction work has appeared in magazines like Redbook, Parents and The New York Times.  What does reporting and journalism teach you that carries over into mystery writing?

To write to deadline, and revise carefully.

Do you have plans to write novels outside the Emma Price series?

I am at present writing a novel about an interracial couple in Jersey, I had a little down time between finishing the book and publication. It's been a lot of fun, it's a one off as they say, lots about family and a mystery at the center of everything.

How does Emma progress from book to book?  In the latest, It's Raining Men, do you think she's a more evolved character than in the first book?

Most definitely, she's had to deal with so much, and it's shaped her as a mother and as an investigator. I think she's learned to adapt to being a single mother, and eventually I hope she will learn to trust those who care about her most.

What appeals about the mystery form?

Having the need for a fast moving plot makes it easier to shape the novel. Plus, there are built in readers who care.

What has been your most satisfying experience as a writer so far?

Getting my first novel published after so many years of grief. But there have been lots of nice things, recently being picked by the New York Post as a required reading, for example, getting good reviews, fan mail, meeting other mystery writers.

You wrote a number of novels before The One That Got Away was published.  What did that experience teach you, and how did you persevere?

I was apparently out of my mind, or just a writer. It's what you do when you do this, you try to figure out what went wrong and keep on going because only the writing makes you happy.

 

Reviews

Owl's Well That Ends Well: A Meg Langslow Mystery
by Donna Andrews
St. Martin's Minotaur
Hardcover, 293 pages, $21.95
ISBN: 0-312-32938-5
Reviewed by Gloria Feit

In the sixth and newest of her Meg Langslow Mysteries, Donna Andrews has brought back all the usual cast and crew, Meg and her varied and slightly 'dotty' relatives.  Meg and Michael, her long-time boyfriend [she of the commitment-phobic variety of women] have purchased a house that is, to put it mildly, a fixer-upper, the better to afford it.  [As an example, most rooms have no floors and no furniture.]  The house and barn are located on a large piece of property, and every conceivable inch of space had been taken up by what can most kindly be described as clutter, burgeoning into all three stories of the house, attic, basement, barn, assorted outbuildings and every other bit of otherwise-unoccupied area.  To attempt to cope with this, Meg has planned a mammoth yard sale, to be held on a fenced-in portion of the property, and all the aforementioned relatives have been called on to assist, most of them bringing with them their own 'stuff' to add to the items being sold.  Seventeen other households from Meg's family are participating, as well as thirteen of Michael's and colleagues from the local college where he teaches drama and where he is hoping to obtain tenure and some measure of security .  And just to make things even more fun, Meg's brother, Rob, has suggested that all those coming to the event in costume will be given a discount.   So we have various folk walking around dressed, or masked, as Richard Nixon, Dracula, Groucho, Gypsies, a white rabbit and a ballerina, among others.  [Proceeds of the sale are to be shared with the prior owner's family.]  Interestingly, the barn is occupied by, in addition to 'stuff,' a pair of owls, Meg's beloved father being an expert on these and many other birds.  Thus is the scene set for murder, when a local antique dealer, known to one and all as Gordon-you-thief [as that is what everyone seems to call him], is found, murdered, inside a locked trunk located in the barn.

Suspects abound, as Gordon engendered outright hostility among all those who had dealings with him, among whom are his ex-wife, his former business partner, and two professors at Michael's college [one of whom is on his tenure committee and firmly in Michael's corner in his attempts to achieve same].   When the latter is arrested for the murder, Meg feels duty-bound to try to prove that he didn't commit the crime.  Several people had wandered into and out of the barn just before or after the murder, and Meg determines that several people lied to the police about whether he was alive or dead when they were there.  The book moves speedily along, with one after another seeming to be the guilty party, the final surprise being truly that. 

Laughs, smiles and puns abound.  I could relate only too well to the perils of living with clutter, although to date have been fortunate enough to have escaped the insanity that takes place at this particular yard sale.  Owl's Well that Ends Well is a cozy of the first order, and recommended.

 

The Perfect Paragon: An Agatha Raisin Mystery
by M. C. Beaton
St. Martin's Minotaur
Hardcover, 234 pages, $22.95
ISBN: 0-312-30448-X
Reviewed by Terri M. Tumlin

Agatha Raisin is looking for a big case for her young detective agency in the village of Carsely in rural England.  Most of those are divorce cases.  She doesn't really like to do divorce work, but since all her current cases are of the lost dog and cat variety, she decides reluctantly that she might need to take one on.  First though, she needs some new staff, her previous employees having either wandered off to different pursuits or been fired for lack of enough work to keep them busy.

Her first staff acquisition comes at the urging of Mrs. Bloxby, the vicar's wife. Phil Witherspoon, a seventy-six year old photographer is in need of money.  Phil, it turns out, has a nose for the detective business, first leading Agatha to the body of a missing girl, Jessica. The publicity over finding the body brings in a raft of new business, requiring more staff, including Harry Bean, a disreputable teenager with a shaved head, nose stud and dead black attire. 

Phil  brings the agency a possible divorce case with a large retainer.  The fact that the client, Robert Smedley, is a pompous, unpleasant man whom Agatha despises and his wife Mabel a model of civic virtue does not prevent Agatha's agency from taking the case.  When the client ends up murdered, things begin to get complicated.

Mixed with her detective activities, Agatha's sometimes on, sometimes off, relationships with various men keep her on a roller coaster of emotion sometimes feeling as though she is aging and alone while at others preparing for outings with almost girlish enthusiasm.  Her longtime friend Sir Charles Fraith  doesn't help much, dropping in for a while then suddenly off again after stylish younger women.

The Perfect Paragon is the sixteenth book in the Agatha Raisin series of English cozy mysteries.  It is a wonderful modern version of the Agatha Christie cozies that combines the intimacy of the classic cozy with the lifestyles and interests of modern readers.  Series characters who have been with Agatha in many adventures, such as her friend Bill Wong and police adversary Detective Inspector Wilkes, liven up the proceedings, as does Roy Silver, a longtime friend from Agatha's days as a publicist in London, with his self generated catastrophe over a rock band from which Agatha must rescue him.

The Perfect Paragon is an enjoyable book of its genre standing alone and if it is the first taste of this series for the reader, there are enough tantalizing clues about earlier events to send him/her back to previous books in the series to catch up on all Agatha's doings.

 

Invitation To Murder
by Elizabeth Bright
Signet
Paperback, 240 pages, $6.99
ISBN: 0451216342
Reviewed by Dawn Dowdle

Jennifer Shane has recently opened a card-making business, Custom Card Creations.  Her big sister has a scrapbooking business down the street and their brother is the town sheriff. 

Jennifer overhears a murder on the phone.  Her brother says there isn't much he can do with the sketchy information she has. 

In the meantime, Jennifer lands her first custom order.  She is thrilled as there hasn't been much traffic in her store.

Jennifer receives a threatening note.  Her sister and brother worry she's in danger.  So she invites her eccentric aunt Lillian to help her in the store.  Jennifer begins teaching Lillian about card-making.  Lillian takes to it right away.

It turns out the victim was to be the maid of honor in the wedding Jennifer is designing invitations for.  Jennifer ends up trying to figure out who the murderer is.  She finds herself with more threats. 

I thoroughly enjoyed this book.  Jennifer and Lillian are a great team.  I can't wait to read about more of their escapades.  The detail in the books about card making is great too.

I highly recommend this book.

 

The Magdalen Martyrs
by Ken Bruen
St. Martin's Minotaur
Hardcover, 274 pages, $22.95
ISBN: 0-312-31645-3
Reviewed by Kevin R. Tipple

Jack Taylor is a man unhappy in his own skin. He hates sobriety and he hates his drug and alcohol addictions. Not so much the addictions themselves but the mornings after or the days later after another mind wrecking binge is over.  His thin control over the addictions is shaky from the very beginning of this dark read currently available in hardback. What keeps him sane and barely in control is his love for books and his library that he keeps with him when circumstances force him to move from place to place. They have once more made the journey with him as he is back in Bailey's Hotel and hating the holiday season because of the gloomy weather as well as what it represents. He is also very unhappy that Bill Cassell has found him and is calling in his marker. Cassell certainly isn't a friend and the fact that Jack owes him a debt, which forces him to do whatever Cassell wants, sours his mood completely.

On the face of it, it doesn't seem so bad after all as Cassell just wants him to find somebody. He wants Jack Taylor to find a woman that helped Cassell's mother escape the Magdalen laundry years ago. The Magdalen was a horrible place for unwed mothers run by the church in Ireland where appalling abuse was inflicted on the unfortunate young women sent there. The woman's name was Rita Monroe and if Jack does not find her, living or dead, Cassell will punish him severely.

Jack begins his assigned task and before long gets a very physical reminder from Cassell and his minions to work faster. And while, from one point of view the reminder works, on another level it unleashes forces within Jack that neither he nor Cassell can control. Not only does the terror of what was done to him push Jack to the edge of his sanity, his addiction demons are once more awakened and he works the case with a new vengeance-both on himself as well as those who stand in the way.

With frequent allusions by name as well as content to other authors and their novels, which range across a wide spectrum, the novel becomes part mystery read and almost part suggested reading list. As the pages pass, the author spins a darkly disturbing and mesmerizing tale of one man's struggle to remain sane and in some semblance of control while being powerless to stay sober. Jack's neuroses, which are many, quickly become the readers own as his world comes alive on the printed page. The tale is told in fragments and flashbacks in a choppy style overlaying a deep subtext of the pain within and the battle against it. The result is a jolting and intense experience that gives the reader something far different than from most books in the genre.

 

Deadly Illusions
by Chester D. Campbell
Durban House
Paperback, 261 pages, $12.95
ISBN: 1930754655
Reviewed by Dawn Dowdle

Greg and Jill McKenzie have opened an investigations firm and are working cases together.  Molly Saint wants them to look into her husband's past.  The McKenzies, especially Greg, are initially skeptical about taking this case.  Molly has been married to Damon Saint for five years.  But, Jill has a feeling that something isn't right and convinces Greg to do some preliminary investigations.  If they don't find anything alarming, they will stop.

They are already working for Leisure Foods Group investigating missing funds from a King Cole specialty restaurant.  Jill goes undercover as hostess in the restaurant.  Greg gets friends to eat there so that they can determine if the money they pay to the restaurant is actually accounted for in the deposit the next day.

The day they met with Mr. Logan from Leisure Foods Group in the Opryworld Hotel, Dr. Elliott Bernstein, chairman of the Federal Reserve Board, was gunned down at the hotel.   Since Greg used to be an investigator for the DA's office, he knows some officers.

Once Molly disappears, the McKenzies begin to delve deeply into Damon's background.  They never lose sight of their other cases, but this one has become a priority. 

The Greg McKenzie series is fast becoming one of my all-time favorite series. Campbell has a great way of telling a story while weaving the various cases that Greg and Jill are working on.  I find his characters to be very believable.  I like that they don't just center on one case.  That's not how it is in real life.

I like the Nashville setting.  And the fact that Jill is a pilot and owns a Cessna allows them to travel to gain additional information and not lose much time.

I can't wait to read the next Greg McKenzie mystery.  I highly recommend this book and the whole series.

 

The Lincoln Lawyer
by Michael Connelly
Little, Brown and Company
Hardcover, 410 pages, $26.95
ISBN: 0-316-73493-4
Reviewed by Theodore Feit

Michael Connelly doesn't need praise from me, his body of work speaks for itself and in The Lincoln Lawyer he proves once again why he is a master novelist.  Especially, since this book is a departure from his justifiably famous Harry Bosch series.

Michael (Mickey) Haller is known as the Lincoln Lawyer because he has no office other than the back seat of his Lincoln Town car.  His clients, for the most part, are garnered from a half page ads in the Yellow Pages and the backs of bus stop benches.  The clients are the bottom of society—bikers, prostitutes, drug dealers and the like.  He is a criminal attorney, very unlike his famous father who was renowned (he defended and got a not guilty verdict for the famous gangster, Mickey Cohen).

Smart, shrewd, personable, Mickey Haller is twice divorced, with an eight-year-old daughter.  He plays the angles, strategizes and uses the legal system to the fullest.  That's what the story line is all about.

One day, a bail bondsman friend calls to tell him about a potential “franchise” client.  This type of client can support a lawyer for months or even years with hundreds of dollars worth of fees.  The client specifically asked for Mickey and hires him.  In the course of defending the client, Mickey learns that another client, whom he has plea- bargained into San Quentin for seven years, is innocent. The knowledge represents a conflict with his new client.  How to free the innocent client and yet defend the current one without violating ethical standards?

The emotional wear on Mickey is revealing, as is the portrayal of his character and love of the law.  To further reveal the story would take away the mystery.  So just read and enjoy.

 

Deadly Collection: A Molly Doyle Mystery
by Elaine Flinn
Avon Books
Paperback, 352 pages, $6.99
ISBN: 0-06-054582-8
Reviewed by Gloria Feit

How lovely to re-enter the world of Molly Doyle, antiques dealer extraordinaire, in this latest entry in the series by Elaine Flinn.  In Deadly Collection, Molly has been given the opportunity of a lifetime, or of an antiques dealer career at least.  She has been asked to assess and sell the contents of a magnificent mansion whose owners have just died in a car accident.  The deceased were Hollywood set designers, and their daughter neither knows nor cares much about the contents of their home so she hires Molly to deal with it all. "All" in this case consists of magnificent art and antiques ranging from "smalls" (smaller pieces of merchandise) to a huge bibliotheque and everything in between, all apparently of excellent quality and vintage.  As set designers for many years they had also amassed enormous quantities of movie memorabilia as well as Hollywood sets from films they had worked on over the years, some of which had been set up intact inside "faux" walls.  And what is behind one of those walls is quite a shock: an Egyptian coffin, complete with skeleton contained therein.

Much more than that is unearthed:  an old murder long unsolved; Molly's scandal-ridden past, which she thought she had put behind her when she left New York, as well as her dear friend Daria's, also thought put behind her when she left LA for Carmel.  Murders occur, and once again Molly finds herself, much to the chagrin of Randall, Carmel's police chief and erstwhile "friend" of Molly, right in the thick of things.

All the old gang is here: Bitsy, the grande dame of Pebble Beach; Max, the owner of the store Molly runs; Emma, the 12-going-on-twenty-something-year-old niece who has become such an immense part of Molly's life since she was "deposited" on her doorstep by Molly's sister in Tagged for Murder, the prior book in the series; Dan Lucero, who's been in love with Daria for years but unable to do anything about it because of Daria's "past"; etc.  As always, one painlessly learns a lot about antiques, even as Emma is doing the same.  The plot rushes swiftly along as Molly, with help from Emma, Daria and even Randall, gets to the bottom of things and discovers the identify of the killers, past and current.  The book is wonderfully well written, the characters always engaging, Carmel lovingly described, and Deadly Collection is an altogether delightful entry in this engaging series.

Recommended.

 

The Chairman
by Stephen Frey
Ballantine Books
Hardcover, 310 pages, $21.95
ISBN: 0-345-45760-9
Reviewed by Angela McQuay

If you're at all interested in the high stakes world of Wall Street, you shouldn't miss Stephen Frey's thrillers.  His newest novel, The Chairman, focuses on Christian Gillette, the new chairman of private equity firm Everest Capital.  Christian has just been promoted due to the suspicious drowning of the previous chairman.  His first day on the job begins with a bang—literally—when his limousine explodes outside the funeral of his former boss.  From then on, Christian knows that, as the new chairman, he has become a target.

Not only does Gillette have to deal with people trying to kill him, but he also has to run the multi-billion dollar company, a job that is much more difficult since many of his new employees are angry that he got the chairman position.  He has to deal with serial womanizer Troy Mason, meek and indecisive Ben Cohen and his security company, McGuire & McGuire, that may be compromising his safety because they want to buy their company back from him.  To add more to the equation, Gillette meets two women who quickly become important to him: Faith Cassidy, an up-and-coming singer whom Gillette helps with her contract and Isabelle, the Puerto Rican immigrant whose beauty takes Gillette's breath away.  Will they be enough to distract him from his incredibly demanding job?  Or will he be able to beat everyone who is out to get him and end up on top?

Frey is extremely knowledgeable in the field of finance and that fact is obvious in every page of The Chairman.  Huge deals, political influences and shady deals abound in every chapter and it's hard to resist reading about this mysterious and dazzling world.  Frey adds to the mix some interesting characters, especially Gillette.  Frey is skilled at giving Gillette many different facets that keep him from being just the hard-nosed businessman that his employees see.  He throws in a few more interesting characters, plus plenty of plot twists, to keep the story moving at a breakneck pace.  Anyone who enjoys reading about Wall Street or who just enjoys a good thriller should check out Frey's latest offering.     

 

Unzipped
by Lois Greiman
Dell
Paperback, 368 pages, $6.99
ISBN: 0440242622
Reviewed by Dawn Dowdle

Christina “Chrissy” McMullen is a psychologist in California.  Ex-football player and celebrity Andrew “Bomber” Bomstad is one of her clients.  He is, that is, until he drops dead in her office.  He'd come to Chrissy for help with his impotency problem.  The police believe she killed him because there is an open bottle of wine in her office and evidence, in his unzipped jeans, that he had been cured of his problem.  Things are not what they seem, but Chrissy can't make police detective Jack Rivera see this.  He just keeps hounding her to tell him why she killed the Bomber.

Chrissy ends up asking an acquaintance from her cocktail waitressing days, an acquaintance she'd rather forget, to help her get some information on the Bomber because everything she's being told since his death doesn't match with what he'd told her when he was alive. 

I like the way Chrissy plays with Rivera's name to get to him.  She knows she didn't kill the Bomber even though the police think she did, so she sets out to figure out who did.  This puts her in some sticky situations that are very funny.

I laughed out loud almost every time I picked this book up.  I found it hard to put it down.  I thoroughly enjoyed it and can't wait to read the next one.  Chrissy is a hoot and a fun amateur sleuth.  There is a love interest as well, which kept me wanting to read more to find out what would happen. 

I highly recommend this book and can't wait for the next one.  I want to see what trouble Chrissy can get into next.

 

Whiskey Sour
by J.A. Konrath
Hyperion
Hardcover, 270 pages, $21.95
ISBN: 1-4013-0087-1
Reviewed by Jeffrey Cohen

Don't let the title fool you: Whiskey Sour, the first book in the Jacqueline (Jack) Daniels police procedural series, is by no means a humorous cozy.  Oh, there is a great deal of wiseguy humor (an area in which I consider myself something of an aficionado), and there certainly is a mystery to solve, but you won't feel cozy from page one.

J.A. Konrath is a master storyteller, and is at his best when conjuring a truly creepy villain, one who would just as soon sell an ice cream cone to a small boy as pull him through the window and make sure he never saw his mother again. When Lieutenant Jack Daniels of the Chicago Police Department gets on this really, really bad guy's trail, naturally his attention is drawn to her, and the chase—to determine who will catch whom—is on.

Along the way, Jack has to deal with the requisite sexism in the job, the love life in tatters (she's divorced from Mr. Daniels), the pressure from higher-ups to find the serial killer of young women currently occupying the villain and the unconventional mother in Florida, who likes to lighten Jack's day with tales of her own uninhibited sex life.

The humor is a welcome relief from the sometimes grim goings-on, and Konrath is very good at wielding it. The proceedings never deteriorate into farce, the characters are never so over-the-top as to be unbelievable, and the jokes, particularly from Jack herself, are always clearly there for a reason: she's got to cope with the pressures of her life somehow.

The reader will undoubtedly finish the book ready for Jack's second adventure, in Bloody Mary.  Konrath obviously knows what he's doing, and does it very well.

 

Six to Five... Against
by Jeff Sherratt
Marlow, Spade & Archer
Paperback, 356 pages, $15.95
ISBN: 0-9752721-0-1
Reviewed by Kevin R. Tipple

Lawyer Jimmy O'Brien is financially barely making it and everyone from his lovely law clerk and secretary, Rita, to the backstabbers down at the courthouse know it. Even in 1972, judges have agendas, and Judge Johnson, a former colleague, certainly has one and is going to make O'Brien a key part of it.

Jesus Rodriguez has been arrested for the murder of Senator Welch's secretary, Gloria. Rodriguez was her gardener and among other evidence against him is the blood on his truck, witnesses who saw him at the scene apparently arguing with her the preceding afternoon. If that wasn't bad enough, the murder weapon was found under the seat in his truck and he has a prior record of violence. With such an apparently airtight case, Judge Johnson wants it to go away fast by having O'Brien temporarily represent him while Rodriguez pleads guilty at the arraignment and accepts the expected plea bargain of life in prison without parole.

The problem for all concerned is that Rodriguez absolutely will not accept the plea bargain and will not plead guilty to something that he did not do. He believes everyone is against him including O'Brien and that his innocence will eventually set him free. There is nothing O'Brien can do to change his mind and he pleads innocent at the arraignment infuriating the judge. An enraged Judge Johnson having tried and failed to coerce a guilty plea in court, orders him held for trail to commence in sixty days at which time the prosecutor will try to make good on her threat to put him on death row.

With no financial resources and clearly over his head against powerful interests, O'Brien has no choice but to turn to a few friends and their less-than-savory connections to clear his client. The result is a mystery where one can't tell all the players and their connections without a scorecard, alliances are tested, favors are bought and sold by hard men to the highest bidder, and most of the women are drop dead gorgeous.

Jimmy O'Brien is a character blending naiveté with, at times, a hard-edged cynicism about the world around him. He quickly grows on the reader as events flow from his perspective throughout the course of this 356-page novel in large trade paperback. His flashes of wit, sardonic and otherwise, as well as the frequent references to what are now considered historic evens for the reader as well as frequent name dropping, bring to mind the older style of mystery writing that simply isn't around that much anymore. The result is a very entertaining enjoyable read that makes one eagerly look forward to the next book in the planned series, One, Two, and Even.

 

Dangerous Curves
by Judith Skillings
Avon
Paperback, 334 pages, $6.50
ISBN: 0060583193
Reviewed by Dawn Dowdle

Rebecca Moore is back in another great mystery.  Two of her ex-con workers are arrested because a young dancer is found brutally stabbed in the Bentley they were towing back to Rebecca's classic car restoration shop.  Then another young dancer from the same club is pulled from the Potomac.  Rebecca puts herself undercover at the club to see what she can discover.

This is, of course, against the wishes of Joachim Delacroix (her lawyer who greatly admires her) and Mick Hagan (her detective-sometime-boyfriend). 

Mick butts heads with the officer in charge of the investigation and thus cannot even set foot into the club.  Jo feels uncomfortable there with Rebecca undercover but feels someone should be keeping an eye on her. 

Rebecca works to get to know some of the other dancers and see if she can determine who the killer is.  But she has to be careful.  She doesn't know whether the killer works there or just frequents the club.  Can she find the killer without becoming his next victim?

I love this series.  Rebecca runs her late uncle's car restoration shop after leaving her career as a DC reporter.  Her skills come in handy in investigating murders.  Plus she still has some contacts to get information.

I like the touch of having ex-cons working at the shop.  It always spices things up.

Ms. Skillings has a real winner.  I can't wait to read the next book.  I highly recommend Dangerous Curves, as well as the first book Dead End.

 

Deadly Research, By George
by P. J. Stelzer
AuthorHouse
Paperback, 253 pages, $13.50
ISBN: 1418404268
Reviewed by Dawn Dowdle

Georgia Jensen has been asked to speak at a symposium for historians. At the end of the weekend, her friend Ellie Forsythe comes to join her so they can head out on vacation the next day.  Unfortunately Ellie finds one of the symposium speakers dead. 

The police keep all the speakers at the University while they investigate.  Unhappy that they have to stay longer, Ellie and Georgia decide to do some investigating.  They hope to uncover some information so the police will allow them to leave.

They begin by following the victim's research trail.  After wading through lots of research, they realize this may not be enough to lead to the killer. 

Can they uncover the truth without putting themselves at risk?

This is the first book in this series that I've read.  You can bet it won't be the last.  I really enjoyed it.  Ellie and Georgia are delightful characters.  I am anxiously waiting for the next book.

The setting for this book was a small university campus.  I love books set on a campus.  I think this was the first book I've read where the protagonist was a researcher, but I liked it.  It really added to the believability of the amateur sleuth.

I highly recommend this book.

 

Grave Review
by Cynthia Thomason
Five Star
Hardcover, 255 pages, $25.95
ISBN: 159142963
Reviewed by Dawn Dowdle

The Jubilee Palace showboat has stopped for a performance in Moss Hollow, Kentucky.  It is soon discovered that Moss Hollow is the birthplace of the troupe's lead actress, Marianne Dresden.

Apparently Marianne was born Mary Alice Kobb and left her parents' cabin and a big secret and ran away from the river town.  The town appears to be run by the Diggers family.  Everywhere Gwen Barlow turns, there is another member of the Diggers family. 

Gwen's mother inherited the Jubilee Palace and now lives on it with her daughter Gwen and her son Preston. 

After the performance, Mary Alice's father is found murdered on the showboat, grounding it in Moss Hollow until the investigation is completed.  Gwen had so hoped they could leave right after the performance to avoid problems with the Kobb family. 

In an attempt to free the Jubilee so it can move on, Gwen begins to investigate the murder to try to assist the sheriff.  She soon finds that many people had reasons to see Mr. Kobb eliminated.  In her attempts to find the truth, she has to deal with small-town prejudice and a country preacher who takes a fancy to Gwen.  Then there's the crude moonshiner who once dated Mary Alice.  Mary Alice wants nothing to do with anyone in Moss Hollow. 

Gwen is happy to have the handsome showboat captain, Carson Stockwell, assisting her in the investigation and protecting her when needed.

I love this series set on an old showboat.  Thomason juggles many different personalities and yet it is easy to keep them straight as you read.  The author has done a great job of creating them and making them come to life.  I feel as if I've been aboard the showboat when I'm reading.

I highly recommend this book and can't wait to read the next one.

 

Shrouded In Thought
by N.S. Wikarski
Northgate Press
Paperback, 317 pages, $16.95
ISBN: 0-9720335-1-3
Reviewed by Kevin R. Tipple

It is 1894 as this sequel set a few months after the events depicted in The Fall of White City opens. Evangeline LeClair and reporter Freddie Simpson are once more pulled into a complex mystery as a result of Freddie's first instance of seeing a fresh drowning victim.

Her name was Nora Johnson and she was a secretary at the Hyperion Electroplate Company in Chicago. The police believe she fell or was pushed through the wooden guardrail on factory grounds and landed in the river where she drowned. During the course of interviewing various bystanders Freddie comes across Sophie Simmons. Sophie was summoned by the police to view the body and make positive identification and is justifiably upset. Freddie is able to piece together from her various statements that she was a roommate of Nora's at a local boarding house, was her close friend, and knew that Nora had a secret admirer who gave her various gifts. He also notices a man who appears to be a vagrant working the crowd around the scene with considerably more interest than a mere bystander.

After turning in this story for the newspaper, he goes to see his friend Evangeline LeClair who is staying currently at her country house in the suburbs instead of her townhouse in the city. He describes for her his recent activities and appeals to her sense of adventure in proposing they launch a murder investigation. His suspect is the vagrant he saw earlier at the scene and Evangeline does not share his enthusiasm for the case or the suspect. She is very concerned about the poor and homeless in Chicago, the worsening economic conditions and the needs of her Mast house project. However, once given an invitation to a small party at the home of factory owner Martin Allworthy scheduled to be held in a few weeks, her attitude shifts enough that she becomes somewhat intrigued by the idea of attending and making a few inquires. The party quickly becomes the catapult that encourages Evangeline and Freddie to work the case and the two unite in their pursuit of justice on a trail that leads them across the city and surrounding areas by way of a cast of suspects.

Against a backdrop of labor unrest, economic depression, women's rights and other social issues relevant to the times then and now, this Sherlock Holmes style cozy becomes an atmospheric read of sheer pleasure. Much like Holmes was often intellectually one step ahead of Watson, Evangeline is often ahead of Freddie, not that he doesn't have his moments of gloating as he is proven correct much to his own (as well as the reader's) amusement. Rich in time period detail, the novel moves at a slow pace as the main characters delve deep into the case and the personalities of those involved. The author teases the reader with one suggestive clue at a time in this read that while briefly mentioning past events could easily be read as a stand-alone or the enjoyable sequel that it is.

On one hand the novel is tale of the timeless themes of blackmail and deceit with a heavy dose of greed and stupidity. On the other hand, the work tells a tale of social conscience that should be as relevant today as the time period depicted. The result is an engrossingly detailed read that brings the time period vividly to life in a way few authors are able to do and at the same time provides an excellent mystery tale that leaves the reader thinking long after the book is finished.

 

Murder By Committee

Read past installments and find out more about Murder By Committee

Chapter 17
by Bob Avey, as inspired by Dean Koontz

Bob Avey is the author of Twisted Perception, a debut mystery novel which was released in August of 2005.  Here, he takes what was admittedly a strange chapter (that Will Shakespeare is a wild man!), and restores order, sort of.  You won't doze.

For the sake of the story, it's time I leveled with you. I'm the one known as Guthrie, though in light of the disinformation and confusion of which you have been dealt, I am not sure why you should believe who I am or that I exist.

I am not an agent with the Central Intelligence Agency. I am not an agent with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. In fact, I am not connected with any government or agency, though I am, in a manner of speaking, known about by most of them. I am contract, work for hire, existing in a little known periphery of society populated by sorts like myself. By this I do not mean that my life is charming. I mean only that it is not emblematic. My daily routine involves certain regiments that might not be agreeable to other people.

Pleased at finding Harper alive and well, I aimed the .38 at the forehead of the man the rodent had called Rich, and surveyed the chamber that served as a back room to Primo's Taco House.

Recognizing Ozzie Roland, another FBI goon, just in time to not like a move he made, I swung the .38 a few inches to the right and fired. The bullet punched a hole in the big man's shoulder and he slumped forward, collapsing on the table.

Brukowski glared at me. He knew Ozzie. They'd worked together a few years back.

If any other goons, either benign or malevolent, had been hiding nearby, they had not lingered for a breakfast chat. It was just me, Rich, Brukowski, and Harper. Harper, contrary to what you might have been led to believe, was just Harper, a low-level smuggler trying to etch out a living the best way she knew how. I conjured a smile. "Good to see you, Harper. Now hand over the hydrogen formula."

She shrugged. "Sorry, Ace. I'm fresh out."

That left only Rich, wearing that ill-fitting gray suit. Sometimes simply getting out of bed can take the charm out of a new day.

I'd been hired by James Sheridan to find the formula. The fact that his sister, Meredith, had disappeared under curious circumstances twenty years ago had nothing to do with it, other than providing Sheridan with a legitimate excuse for acquiring the services of a problem solver like me under the guise of a private investigator. You see, James Sheridan owns a controlling portion of the issued common stock of several large oil and gas companies, giving him an understandable, if disgusting reason for wanting to keep alternative fuel sources off the market.

As for me, I'm just here to do a job. Don't get me wrong. I do have mixed feelings about it. I'm no ecology nut, but I don't have anything against cleaning up the air a little. You wouldn't want to do it too quickly. A sudden shift from fossil fuels to hydrogen would be economically devastating, sort of like the Soviet Union when they threw open the flood gates of democracy, leaving thousands of people who'd grown up depending on the government in a state of utter chaos. It should have been phased in slowly, the same with hydrogen. And if I get my hands on it, I'll see to it that it goes down that way.

Transferring the .38 to my left hand, I kept it trained on Rich while I shoved the old wooden table aside so I could see the hands of my adversary. I felt a tinge of regret as Ozzie nearly fell from the movement, only his head and good shoulder still keeping his torso on the table. He wasn't dead, but he'd lost consciousness and was losing blood fast. "Okay, Ritchie boy. Hand it over."

Ritchie's face went from a shade of red to something beyond that. "She's lying. I don't have it."

I shifted the .38 back to my firing hand and brought it a little closer to Ritchie boy's face. "Then who does?"

He shook his head. "My guess would be Betty Watekis. She had Harper locked up, held prisoner. I rescued her."

The truth in Ritchie boy's words lay so far outside the boundaries of reason that they held no more sway over me than the ravings of a disturbed child. Neither Betty Watekis nor her cohort Jane Sharp could find their backsides with both hands. True enough Betty and the other ecology nuts had gotten in the way, mucking up everything in the process, but they wouldn't know a hydrogen formula if it was stuck under their noses, which, I suspect, it had been several times.

I shoved the .38 into the side of Ritchie boy's head. "Wrong answer, slick."

Occasionally, when searching for new talent in the outskirts of their region, the Bureau will strike it rich with a valuable recruit. With Ritchie they had not been so lucky. If you bring his kind to task, you will find dangerous resistance, but not through an honest show of courage, but rather from a deep-rooted evil, the kind harbored by a psychopath. But it was the slight twitch of amusement that crossed his face that brought about my next move, because it said he didn't have to worry about me right now for I had other more pressing problems. I quickly turned, sliding around behind Ritchie boy's chair, still holding the .38 to his head but now using him as a partial shield.

In the hallway just outside the door that led from the back room of the low-rent restaurant, Jake Brukowski stood like a matador who had already bled the strength from his opponent, except he had no sword, but a sawed-off shotgun. I'd known he would turn on me sooner or later, but I had thought he would wait until I had the formula.

He grinned. "End of the road, Guthrie." He took a step back, motioning with the barrel of his weapon for us to follow. Then he pointed both barrels toward Harper. "Weapons on the table then file out one at a time. You first, Guthrie."

As soon as I stepped away from Ritchie boy, he stood and started toward the door. Brukowski swung the shotgun around. "Not so fast. Stay where you are."

As I set the .38 on the table, I stepped toward Ozzie. The weapon he'd tried to pull was still in the shoulder holster, but just barely. The butt of the weapon protruded from his jacket lapel. I slowly moved my left hand toward it, pretending to gesture to the man. "Our friend here needs a doctor."

"Stop stalling, Guthrie. Step away from him."

I faked a bow and cupped the weapon in my hand. It was small, an Italian model perhaps. "If you fire that cannon," I said, "you'll take out more than just me. You'll get Ozzie and maybe Harper as well."

"Maybe that's the idea."

"I don't think so, else you would've already pulled the trigger."

"Maybe I don't want to make a mess."

I slid the weapon into my pants pocket. "You always were a neat freak."

Brukowski raised the shotgun. "Out. Now."

Ordinarily, Brukowski had none of that tough-guy attitude to which most agents prove so adept at these days. He was an intelligent operative, always thinking and quick to act. Today, however, he looked desperate, his face distorted by a mixture of anger and fear. I glanced toward the north wall where Harper stood only a few feet away. Her eyes said she expected me to get her out of this. I nodded that I would.

My subtle assurance did not appear sufficient to put her fear to rest. "You first," she said.

Without a word, I turned and walked out of the room. I could hear Harper behind me, followed, I suspected, by Ritchie Boy. Like a trio of condemned criminals walking the final walk, we made our way down the hall and through the kitchen then through the door and outside.

Harper appeared to tremble as we crossed the asphalt parking lot, side by side. A tree shadowed her hair, its intricate design changing as she moved, and I noticed, not for the first time, just how beautiful she was. Afraid of losing the battle, I wondered what I would do.

In the parking lot behind the building, where a green Suburban with dark-tinted windows sat, Brukowski ordered us to stop. When I saw the parking sticker on the windshield that read, Halsworth Enterprises, I began to understand why Brukowski was behaving so irrationally. The Halsworth family had expressed an uncanny interest in the hydrogen. It was said they'd do just about anything to get their hands on it. Their reasons for this were not widely known, but you could bet money was behind it. Brukowski had probably been offered a small fortune if he could retrieve the formula.

"Open the back door," Brukowski said, "and get inside."

Options of what to do next ran through my head. I had to stall, buy some time, but when my hand touched the door handle of the SUV, I lost all concentration. It was cold. No, not just cold, freezing, and as I drew my hand away every ounce of intuition I owned told me not to open that door. It also told me to back away, which I did, pulling Harper with me. I half expected Brukowski to fire the weapon he carried, if not to do us in then to scare us into submission, but as I caught a glimpse of his face I saw that he too had sensed the unusual nature of whoever, or whatever was inside that vehicle. Ritchie Boy was nowhere in sight. My guess is he'd run for it as soon as he saw Brukowski so distracted.

Not a breath of air blew through that part of the city. Everything had grown uncannily still. For several seconds the only movement was that of a large black crow as it landed on the upper branches of a huge oak tree.

Harper must have sensed my uneasiness. She took my right hand in her left. I was grateful for that for I had the handgun in my left pocket. Harper's grip proved warm and firm. I grew courage from her trust, and I slowly slid my free hand into my pocket and pulled what appeared to be a .32 caliber Beretta out into the open. By the time Brukowski noticed what I'd done, I was aiming the weapon close to his right temple.

But it was then that the window on the driver's side of the SUV began to roll down. It opened just a crack, perhaps an inch or two, but with it came an exhale of air from the interior of the vehicle and it puffed out into the atmosphere, a bluish, hazy cloud of smoke.

I took a step back, as did Brukowski and Harper, but when the voice that came through the open window hit our ears, it did not sound like any of the Halsworths. It did not, in fact, sound like anything I had ever heard before.

Instead, from the inside of the dark green Suburban came a rough and heavy grunt that more resembled the growl of a beast.