Review of Leighton Gage's Perfect Hatred

Perfect Hatred by Leighton Gage

Want to get to know Brazil, without leaving your living room sofa? Meet Leighton Gage's Chief Inspector Mario Silva. He's the guy the Brazilian Federal Police send when a criminal matter requires their biggest gun. Silva is incorruptible, yet pragmatic. You can catch him and his crack investigative team on February 19, 2012, when the sixth Mario Silva series book, Perfect Hatred, is published by Soho Press.

The book opens with a literal bang––Salem Nabulsi's particularly nasty suicide bombing outside the American consulate in São Paulo. At least 67 people are dead. The Civil Police open their investigation. Delgado Hector Costa, who heads the São Paulo field office of the Federal Police and just so happens to be Silva's nephew, phones Brasilia. Silva, his sidekick Arnaldo Nunes, Danusa Marcus, Lefkowitz, Mara Carta, and Babyface Goncalves don't even have time to analyze the explosive's taggants or the consulate's security camera tapes before Silva is rushed off to another case.

A candidate for the state governorship of Paraná, Plínio Saldana, has just been assassinated at a campaign rally in the capital city of Curitiba. Saldana's campaign slogan was "Sweep Paraná Clean," and he had plenty of enemies. The shooter, Julio Cataldo, is dead, after exchanging gunfire with Nestor Cambria, a former federal cop who's now Saldana's bodyguard. Cambria was wounded and is hospitalized. Despite the São Paulo terrorist attack, which is followed by an explosion at a Buenos Aires synagogue three days later, Brazil's Minister of Justice insists the Federal Police's best team investigate the Saldana assassination. Silva steams, but he has no choice. The Minister owes the current Paraná governor, widely considered a crook, a favor. And, as Arnaldo observes, "'In case you guys never noticed, politics and favoritism is what Brasilia is all about.'"

Three chain saws might be easier for
Silva than the cases he's juggling.

As if two high-profile cases aren't enough, writer Gage tosses Silva a stark-raving Orlando Muniz, out on appeal after his conviction for murdering a penniless, unarmed priest. In the Brazil Muniz knows, wealthy men don't go to prison, and he will kill the incorruptible prosecutor and the witness/arresting police officer, Silva, if he has to. Heck, Muniz would enjoy killing them even if he doesn't have to.

While Gage is an American, he's lived in São Paulo for decades and has a Brazilian wife. His Perfect Hatred isn't a cozy; rather, it's a hardboiled police procedural involving social issues. The meaning of Psalm 139:22 ("I hate them with perfect hatred: I count them mine enemies.") is examined against the backdrop of contemporary Brazil and her international relations, especially with Paraguay. Widespread corruption, incompetence, and nepotism in government and law enforcement agencies set the stage for three seemingly unrelated crimes: a fanatic Islamist's suicide bombing, an assassination with political or personal motivations, and a criminal's revenge. Gage spins a dazzling web of people, motives, and events to connect them.

Silva channels Machiavelli as he weighs
the motives behind Saldana's murder

It's not necessary to start at the beginning of the Chief Inspector Mario Silva series with Blood of the Wicked. People who appreciate crime fiction with a social conscience, featuring memorable characters and unique settings, will enjoy Perfect Hatred. I did.

Note: I received a free prepublication review galley of Perfect Hatred from Soho Press. Check it out a week from today.

Book Review of Leighton Gage's A Vine in the Blood

A Vine in the Blood by Leighton Gage

"Thy mother is like a vine in thy blood" (Ezekiel 19:10)

The blood-red tint of bougainvilleas is the main concern of an unusual color-blind gardener named Luca Vas when he arrives at the São Paolo home of Juraci Santos. Santos is a vindictive, distrustful woman who just happens to be the mother of the greatest, as well as most famous, fútbol player in the world. Luca wants to stay on her good side, so he is making some changes in the garden. Luca does not expect to find actual red blood, the color of which he can only imagine, and in such a way that he will never forget. Murder has been done and Juraci Santos is missing.

Tico "The Artist" Santos is the principal striker for the Brazilian team, which has been favored to win the FIFA Fútbol World Cup, the most highly anticipated sporting event on earth, which is being hosted by Brazil and is slated to start in three weeks. Whereas for many fútbol lovers, the game is their main love, for The Artist, elite though he may be, his mother is more important.

São Paulo

Fútbol is better known to us as soccer, but the rest of the world prefers the original name because it is a game matching balls and feet. I was fascinated by the little tidbit Gage dropped in the story that the English brought the game to Brazil. It took off in such a way that the prophetic words of Ezekiel can equally be rephrased to say, "Fútbol is like a vine in the blood" because it takes hold of a fan to the point of mania. Thus, there is a national push to get this crime solved as quickly as possible. Chief Inspector Mario Silva and his crack team from the federal police are summoned to São Paulo and the game is afoot. (I couldn't resist that).

It is immediately obvious that there is a long list of people who might want to keep The Artist off the field when Brazil goes for its sixth World Cup title. The motives could be personal, or business, or even nationalistic. Could this be the work of Argentina, Brazil’s most bitter rival? Perhaps the culprits are trying to ruin the bookmaking odds or it might even be the work of someone who just would like Juraci out of her son's life. Whatever the reasons, The Artist is definitely not focused on his game.

I was caught up in the fútbol fever within a few pages of opening the book. Leighton Gage paces this interesting, exciting story just like the build-up to a big game. There is a rhythm behind the scenes that suggests a drumbeat––like that of the samba inexorably drawing the reader in to become part of the common denominator that unifies all strata of Brazilian society, from the President to the peon. Inspector Mario Silva's mandate is clear: he is to find Juraci Santos alive and before the World Cup begins. All of Brazil is depending on it. He has 13 days.

Murder mysteries are my main reading and it is always exciting to find a novel that takes me to an interesting locale and that is an original, exotic and stimulating story. The finale of this complex tale was not what I expected, but it made sense. This is the fifth of the Mario Silva series. As it has progressed, the characters and their personal lives are being fleshed out, which adds to the story without diluting the action. Though part of a series, this book can be read as a standalone because it is complete within itself. You can read it while others are watching the Super Bowl if American football is not your cup of coffee––Brazilian coffee, of course. In the end it was GOAL!! Leighton Gage.

Holiday Traditions

Even though the world is felt to be getting smaller all the time, it still can be said that variety is the spice of life. I always enjoy reading mysteries that take place in December while December is swirling all about me. Many countries and cultures celebrate similar events and holidays in a variety of ways, with customs and ancient rites that have settled in over time. I thought I might compare the rituals of December as seen in the four corners of the world–– where murder is always in season.

Shiroyama

Rei Shimura is a Japanese-American who has been living in Japan for several years. When she is introduced in The Salaryman’s Wife, by Sujata Massey, she is on her way to the Japanese Alps, having worked for two years to save the money for this holiday trip. She is going to a 200-year-old castle town, looking for antiques and a break from her dull gray life in North Tokyo. This is the time that all of Japan is celebrating New Year’s, the biggest party week in the year, but Rei wanted to escape all that and she heads into an adventure that will change her life. There is a Japanese belief that there are no coincidences; that everything is part of a cosmic plan, so before she even gets to Shiroyama she meets the main players who set in motion the events that are to determine her destiny.

Although Rei is part American, she celebrates the holidays Japanese style. Christmas is not celebrated, nor is there giving of gifts. New Year’s is family time in Japan. You spend time with the people you are close to and dine on New Year’s lucky foods, which are symbolic. Long noodles celebrate the changing of the year, vegetables and fruits represent harvest, and roe symbolizes fertility.

Far to the south in the Pacific Ocean, there lies Australia and a different approach to Christmas. In Kerry Greenwood’s Forbidden Fruit, Melbourne baker Corinna Chapman detests Christmas. There are frantic shoppers everywhere and the heat is oppressive at this time of year. Corinna gave up her job in the city for a chance to be her own boss. The hours are long and hard but she works with people she and the readers enjoy quite a bit. There are two wannabe near-anorexic actors; an ex-junkie master muffin maker and a handsome ex-Israeli commando filling out the cast of characters.

Christmas Cake

All this normalcy and carol singing are hiding a sinister religious cult with a subversive agenda, and a vengeful vegan cult with a mission. The story includes two teenage runaways, one of whom is large with child. Her time is near and we don’t know what mode of transportation she is using. It does not appear to be a donkey, although there is one in the story.

Damper

Behind all the mystery solving there is the theme of baking for the holidays, which is described in mouth-watering detail. One can almost smell the aromas coming from Chapman’s Bakery, aptly named Earthly Delights. Traditional Australian Christmas foods include Christmas cake with small treats baked inside. There is also a Christmas damper (a scone-like bread), shaped into a star or wreath and served with butter jam or honey, which originated in the Outback.

Christmas Day in Iceland

It is also the food that I recall in the most detail after reading Arnaldur Indridason’s Voices, which takes place at this time of year. Christmas in Iceland––which is in close proximity to Santa’s home––has many interesting traditions, one of which is that there are 13 Icelandic Santas, each of whom has his own mythology. Iceland's winter holiday goes from early December to January 6, which makes a season of 26 days. Some of the traditions are quite similar to European and North American celebrations and include gift giving on December 24. On New Year’s Eve, there are community bonfires and widespread fireworks.

Inspector Erlendur is another character who feels great personal apathy at this time of the year, but professionally is aggressively investigating the murder of a part-time department-store Santa. There are many themes in this book, but the main one is giving a voice to the victim of murder, a voice for a badly beaten boy whose mother is mentally ill, and finally a voice for his own feelings of despair. This story is one of Indridason’s best.

But as I said I was taken by the food––or I could say taken aback. Inspector Erlendur checks out a room in which a holiday party had taken place. He found the remains of a boiled sheep’s head that the guests had been enjoying. At first I assumed this was possibly a euphemism for something like a head of cauliflower, but was amazed to find it is a usual dish in Iceland and there are even drive-in restaurants where this boiled sheep’s head, which is exactly that, is served with mashed potatoes and vegetables. I will stick with a quarter pounder, thank you.

Christmas in Rio

Another detective close to my heart is the lonely Inspector Espinosa in Luiz Alfredo Garcia-Roza’s December Heat. For him, Christmas is pretty much another day in Rio de Janeiro and he spends the days leading up to it trying to solve the murder of a prostitute who was the girlfriend of a retired policeman friend of Espinosa’s. The case is complicated by the faulty memory of this old cop, Vieira. Vieira is an alcoholic who wakes up next to his murdered mistress and finds himself in a peck of trouble. Espinosa knows that open-and-shut cases are never straightforward. Inspector Espinosa will probably spend both Christmas and New Year's reading his books and looking for more to add to his collection. He might eat the traditional pork loin and farofa, which is raw manioc flour, roasted with butter, salt and bacon. On New Year’s Day Brazilians eat lentils to increase their good luck.

A bowl of black-eyed peas on January first is essential for good luck, health and good fortune in my neck of the woods. I tend to cast my fate to the winds and leave this tradition to others in the family who wouldn’t miss this lucky charm for anything.

I would be interested in any holiday traditions that you readers feel are essential to help circumvent bad luck.

Last Night I Went to Bed With a Murderer

I never go to bed alone. Most nights, I have more company than I know what to do with: my husband, our dog and our two cats on the bed make for a slumber in which everyone coordinates turning over like vegetables grilling on kabobs. When my husband isn't home at bedtime, I don't allow myself to pine for human companionship. I'm not picky; male or female will do. It probably won't surprise you, fellow mystery fans, when I say there are few bed partners better than a murderer. Here are some of my recent enjoyable one- or two-night stands.

Doreen Corder begins The Pew Group by Anthony Oliver on the wrong foot. Hers, against her husband Rupert's instep at the top of the stairs. Moments later, he's in a heap, head askew, at the staircase bottom, dead as the parsley on your plate. (She doesn't consider it murder because it was a spur-of-the-moment thing. He wanted whiskey and sex while she wanted an hour of show-jumping on TV. We'll let her take a mulligan on calling it murder.) Antique shop owner Rupert doesn't leave Doreen very well off, but she managed to pick up enough knowledge watching him run his business to give it a go on her own. In fact, Rupert's barely cold before Doreen scores a coup: a pew group, an extremely rare piece of English pottery worth "a king's ransom" comes into her possession.

Everyone in the Suffolk town of Flaxfield wants to get their hands on it and before long it's missing from the cupboard of Doreen's shop. Who took it? There's no lack of credible suspects and Flaxfield has gone on the boil. There are strange happenings in the woods at night, someone disappears and everyone is looking for the missing pew group. Looking over their shoulders are Doreen's mother Mrs. Lizzie Thomas, who has moved to Flaxfield from Cardiff to keep an eye on Doreen, whom she considers flighty, lazy and mean, and Inspector John Webber, who has returned to his hometown while on medical leave from his London job.

This is a very engaging traditional mystery. It sparkles with unique characters living their eccentric lives in a picturesque part of England. The unusual relationships that they develop with each other make this book special. The cheerful and nosy Mrs. Thomas finds Webber attractive but the two are friends and comrades in sleuthing rather than lovers. Oliver's writing is not only ribald and witty, he also gives some interesting information about the antiques trade and the obsessional collectors who support it. It's the perfect read when you're looking for a book that's neither mind-numbing action/dripping bodily fluids nor the blandest of comfort food. Unfortunately, Oliver only wrote four mysteries in the Lizzie Thomas/John Webber series (The Pew Group is the first) but they're all good for some entertaining hours in the sack.

"How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless child." Those are King Lear's words but Edward Powell's aunt in Richard Hull's The Murder of My Aunt would agree with them. Since the death of Edward's parents she has used family money, which Edward will inherit upon her death, to support him at her home in Llwll, Wales. Edward detests Wales and would like to live in London but this is impossible because he was kicked out of school for outlandish behavior and he has no skills. His narcissistic personality renders him unemployable. Edward spends his days reading racy French novels, spoiling his Pekinese So So and engaging in a battle of wills with his aunt.

Edward's aunt is determined to teach him to be a better person and he is determined not to be taught. After a particularly bad day in which he runs out of gas on his way to Llwll he decides to kill her. Luckily for his aunt and the reader, although he is sharper than a serpent's tooth, his mind is less than razor sharp, and he must try, try, and try again to kill her. [Georgette and Jonas Oldacre, this book might be for you.]

The Murder of My Aunt was written in 1934 and is a classic of mystery fiction. It regularly appears on lists of 100 best mysteries ever written. Edward's petulance and self-serving explanations make a very entertaining narration. The battle between Edward and his aunt is a fascinating study of narcissism and an unhealthy symbiotic relationship. Hull's writing is ironic and literate and if you haven't yet read his book you have a pleasure in store for you.

Three men walk into a Japanese restaurant in São Paulo, Brazil. (I swear this isn't the beginning of a joke. I'm going to tell you about Ira Levin's brilliant 1976 thriller, The Boys from Brazil.) Two are bulky men in dark suits and the third is an older, slimmer man dressed in white who insists on paying for the private dining room adjacent to the room he'd already reserved. When the two other men go over the two rooms inch by inch and then assume the position of guards outside the room, the reader knows something is up.

Gregory Peck as Dr. Josef Mengele

Something is indeed up; way up. The six men who join the man in white, Dr. Josef Mengele, around the table are former SS members and this is what they hear: "'You know what you're going out to do. Ninety-four men have to die on or near certain dates in the next two and a half years. . . They're sixty-five years old, or will be when their dates come around. They're family men, stable; civil servants mostly; men of minor authority."

Laurence Olivier as Ezra Lieberman

Why must these men die? The six aren't told why other than that the plan has the backing of the Kameradenwerk (Comrades' Organization) and that the future of the Aryan race depends on it. They are good soldiers and they do what they're told. They fan out around the world and the 94 men begin dying.

The six assassins aren't the only ones who hear the plot. A young American gets wind of it and calls world-renowned Nazi hunter Yakov Liebermann (based on real-life Simon Wiesenthal, name changed to Ezra Lieberman in the movie The Boys from Brazil), who hears only that 94 men in several countries will die at the hands of the Nazis. He must figure out who, where and why in order to know how to stop it. Liebermann isn't the man he used to be and he knows he can't go to the authorities with this snippet of unproven information. He's old and frail and his sources in government and media have retired or died. Liebermann still lectures but to much smaller audiences at synagogues and colleges. The world's attention has moved on to other things.

The Boys from Brazil was written 35 years ago but it remains a stunning thriller all the same. Levin's pacing and plotting are impeccable. The story alternates between the jungles of Brazil with Mengele, and Europe and the United States with Liebermann. Levin, who also wrote Rosemary's Baby, The Stepford Wives, and A Kiss Before Dying, is a master of suspense. Disregard any voices in your head telling you you don't need to read this book. Don't read anything more about the plot. Levin has more tricks up his sleeve than you think and he'll keep you awake all night until you finish. The next night, you can watch the movie based on Levin's book, starring Gregory Peck, Laurence Olivier and James Mason.

One of Celia Fremlin's publishers once exulted that she was such an expert in domestic psychological suspense that her reader can sense the diapers drying on the line while reading. And it's true. She sets her books among middle- or working-class English families and then lets them walk into a nightmare step by terrible step. Fremlin's eye and ear for the every-day worries of women--what their families will eat for dinner, whether they should worry when Susan isn't home by midnight, what Mrs. Jones across the road will think when Robert runs the babysitter home at 2 a.m.--are unparalleled in mystery fiction. That she then takes these normal worries and magnifies them into something truly frightening is her gift to psychological suspense.

In Fremlin's 1969 book Possession, Clare Erskine is thrilled when her 19-year-old daughter Sarah announces that she is engaged to be married to accountant Mervyn Redmayne. Yes, he is 31 years old but, as Clare tells her husband, they're lucky he has a real job and hasn't joined a firm of psychedelic accountants or quit to do something artistic or take drugs. Sarah's previous boyfriends took advantage of her generous heart and loyalty but here is a man who will safely remove Sarah from their clutches. Clare is not pleased when her younger daughter is adamantly opposed to Sarah's engagement. Even worse, Clare's best friend Peggy reports that Mervyn's mother, Mrs. Redmayne, is an overly possessive mother who will cause no end of problems for Sarah. Clare tries to balance faith in her daughter's good sense and desire to be independent with her worries about Sarah's future. And Mervyn and Mrs. Redmayne give Clare something to worry about.

I don't want to say any more about the plot of this book but I will tell you that Possession had me breathing through my mouth and leaning away from the bed's headboard while reading it. If you're looking for suspense in a literary mystery rather than a page-turning popcorn read, this book is for you. I opened the book when I crawled into bed and then finished it before the cows came home.

Many of us enjoy the companionship of a murderer while snuggling under the covers and before drifting off to sleep. If you can give us any recommendations we'd love hearing about them. Please leave them below as a comment or on the Third Degree page rather than on the wall of a public restroom.