Marcia Clarke’s first foray into fiction has all the ingredients of a big success: as the lead prosecutor in the OJ Simpson murder case, Clarke has first-hand experience of the inner workings of LA law enforcement and the grimy and sordid crime scene that goes with it.

The book begins promisingly (if a little predictably): Rachael Knight, a workaholic DA, addicted to truth, justice and (possibly) booze finds herself immersed in a trial involving her equally committed, handsome young colleague, Jake, who is found dead in a seedy hotel room with a teenage boy in what appears to be a sex-related murder-suicide. Banking on gut feeling, Knight and her sassy, sexy cop friend Bailey Keller break all the rules in the book and ignore protocol to embark on disentangling this mystery and clearing Jake’s name. In the mean time, the two must solve a rape case left over from Jake’s case load.

So far, so fascinating. But what proceeds is a confused and unsatisfying narrative that fails to deliver on the promises it makes at the beginning. The narrative is heaving with frequent and unnecessarily detailed descriptions of meals and wardrobe selection and of nuggets of Knight’s petty and often boring thoughts. And Graden? The sex interest that promises to offer so much at the start? After a few uneventful dates, Clarke completely drops the subject until a brief reference at the very end of the book.

The novel predominantly focuses on the rape case which, although it ends up being tied up with Jake’s murder, means that for chapters on end the reader gets nothing to build their suspense or intrigue relating to the case that they had initially invested in. There are just too many factors of the narrative that do not add up, that fizzle-out and die or that are left dangling like damp squibs to give the reader the juicy (if basic) satisfaction they are after in an LA crime fiction novel such as this.

That being the case, there is reason to believe that if the calorie counting Knight and Co return in a sequel they may count on Clark’s ambition to fatten up the story. If she follows the trend in Guilt by Association and puts more meat on the bones of her courtroom dramas, she might soon entice more fans of early John Grisham into her dog eat dog world.

Amanda Kyle Williams’ The Stranger You Seek is by no means your typical literary apprenticeship. Williams writes with a confidence and complexity that appears well-versed and matured. The heroine, Keye Street, is perfectly flawed: she is feisty and, no-shit, she has self-esteem related addictions, but over and above it all she is Good. Having been dismissed from the FBI several years previously due to alcohol abuse, Street gets called up by A.P.D. lieutenant Aaron Rauser who turns out to be just as flawed and equally admirable, with a healthy dose of sex-appeal thrown in for good measure.

The case? To find the creepily named Wishbone killer whose horrific and gory killings are partnered with taunting messages to the police and the media, making this savage killer a PR nightmare to boot. This is the kind of thriller that lets you think you are smart, before sharply changing direction to reveal something you never suspected.

My only criticism would be that Williams denies the reader the chance to identify the killer for oneself; character remains detached from plot, and few, if any, clues are given as to the true identity. That said, I am prepared to admit this may be due to my own stupidity and I therefore challenge you to be a better crime solver than I am. However, the ‘checking off’ of the list of suspects is clever enough to overshadow this.

The Stranger You Seek is not for the faint hearted. It took me a while to start to write this review as I was reluctant to return to sickening images in a hurry. It deals with the sickest kind of murderous mind: the purely selfish, disarmingly normal, grotesquely sexual, and chillingly remorseless – the kind of mind that smiles through nightmares.

Williams has written a great novel, a novel that touches the raw, core fears readers may have briefly explored in their childhood and then locked away safely, until now.

The Silent Girl is Tess Gerritsen’s latest addition to the internationally best-selling Rizzoli and Isles series. The phenomenal success of these books (also made into a cult television show) is an indicator of the thrilling way the novel reads. It is not necessary to have read the subsequent books in the series; each has its own self-contained open-and-close-case format. Once you open the cover for the first time it is as though this book reads itself; it appears at first to be an all too familiar tired old format, but it slowly reveals itself to be deliciously intricate and dark.

Detective Jane Rizzoli of Boston PD is called to a dark alley in China Town where a group of unsuspecting tourists come across a neatly severed hand behind a skip. Rizzoli’s team quickly relates this crime to a group shooting that had taken place years before in The Red Phoenix, a Chinese restaurant in the same alley. What was, at the time, a straight forward murder suicide, reveals itself to be full of anomalies; why were two of the victims’ stomachs full of Italian and not Chinese food? Why did the chef, a gentle man and good friend, lose his mind and wildly shoot everyone in sight when his family and friends insist it was impossible? And, most importantly, was it merely a tragic coincidence that daughters of two of the victims disappeared, one years before the incident and one years afterwards? To add to the intrigue surrounding the case, a mysterious and super-natural creature has entered the investigation. The ‘thing’s’ lightning speed and deadly sword repeatedly comes to the aid of the police and they form an unspoken and suspicious union against a common enemy.

Cue Maura Isles, the brilliant pathologist whose uncompromising search for the truth has led to an ever-dwindling popularity among her colleagues. However, she and her team discover that the silver hairs found on the clothing of one of the victims are not human; they belong to an unidentifiable species of monkey. This part of the story line reveals Gerritsen’s talent for introducing the mythical and supernatural into her hyper-real, factual crime fiction. Set in China Town, the story behind the mystery reveals itself to be tied up in ancient Chinese mythology. Iris Fang, in many ways the protagonist of the novel, is a heart-broken woman who lost both her husband and daughter to crimes surrounding The Red Phoenix. Fang’s quietly brooding power and intelligence makes her a fascination to both the reader and the book’s characters.

There is an awful lot going on in this book, but Gerritsen gently and effortlessly draws you from one clue to the next. The plot has evolved so far by the end of the novel that it bares very little resemblance to the story you thought it would be in the beginning chapters. However, the book’s screen adaptation seems to have had a reverse effect on the writing itself; Gerritsen’s descriptions very often bring to mind suspense camera work while the characters’ private thoughts work as a surrogate for the television flash-back. Yet this does not necessarily weaken The Silent Girl, as it delivers exactly what it promises: a compelling pop-culture medley of suspense, murder, relationships, and sexual tension with a delightful topping of a good, old-fashioned psychopath revealed at the very end.

In The Existential Detective Alice Thompson follows many of the psychological and emotional themes explored in her debut novel, Justine, winner of the James Tait Black Memorial prize. In her new novel, reclusive private detective William Blake is hired to investigate the disappearance of Louise, wife of the genius scientist Dr Adam Verver. The investigation leads Blake through a distorted and confusing journey that reveals itself to be inextricably linked to the disappearance of his own daughter many years before. As the mystery unravels, the reader is taken on an undulating ride in which reality, fantasy, and desire become one and the same.

The plot line and premise of the novel are straightforward: set in a decaying seaside town on the outskirts of Edinburgh, there is a small cast of characters and very little variety of location. This tightly contained setting allows a full immersion in the thoughts and subconsciousness of the characters. Thompson creates a claustrophobic and intense atmosphere which affectively mimics the reality of the depressed and lonely Blake, and as we move deeper into his mind we understand that Blake’s obsession with his daughter’s disappearance has left his world distorted and bleak.

The characters range from National Gallery curators, blind mystics, games arcade workers, and fish shop owners to prostitutes and singers. This makes for a lively, at times somewhat fantastical, backdrop and adds to an almost child-like enjoyment when reading this novel. However, it also means that the story can seem over-simplified and may have benefited from a more covert or intricate unveiling of the mystery.

‘What ifs’ aside, The Existential Detective is a thoroughly good read. Thompson snares you right at the beginning of this unusual novel, and you’ll be at its equally unusual end before you can thank her for it. You might even want to read it twice. Personally, I was left with delicate traces of the characters and their emotions for days.

© 2012 The Crime of it All Suffusion theme by Sayontan Sinha