Another Botswana: A Review of Michael Stanley's Death of the Mantis

Death of the Mantis: A Detective Kubu Mystery by Michael Stanley

Most of the Republic of Botswana, a flat landlocked country of 2 million people about the size of Texas, lies in the immense Kalahari Desert. One of the most sparsely populated countries in the world, it has transformed itself from dire poverty to a vibrant, fast-growing economy since gaining its independence from Britain in 1966.

An area as large as Massachusetts is occupied by the Botswanan section of the Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park, which it shares with South Africa. In this book, it is managed by Director Vusi with a scant handful of staff. This morning Monzo, who compiles the wildlife statistics, has missed yet another staff meeting and is not answering his radio. He had told Ndoli that he was going out to check that a group of Bushmen he had spotted recently weren't poaching in the park.

Ndoli goes in search of him and finds his jeep abandoned and Monzo, fatally injured, lying at the bottom of a ravine. Three Bushmen surround him, trying to revive the dying man with water. When Monzo dies of his injuries and a bloody rock is found nearby, Inspector Lerako immediately arrests the three Bushmen for his murder. Khumanego, a Bushman living in the modern world, calls his friend and onetime classmate Assistant Superintendent David Bengu of the Botswana CID for help. The Bushmen are rarely violent, and Khumanego believes the men are being railroaded by a bigoted policeman. The evidence is very thin––merely the absence of other footprints in the rocky area and Mongo's statement that he was going out to find them.

Bengu, whose nickname is Kubu because of his size––"kubu" being the Setswana word for hippopotamus––presents the case to Superintendent Mabuku, and asks permission to work it. Mabuku at first flatly refuses, but when Cindy Robinson, an American reporter interested in the Bushmen, files a story on the case Mabuku grudgingly agrees that Kubu can "assist" Lerako in the investigation. Kubu, normally an even-tempered home loving man, feels almost a guilty relief to be away from his wife Joy and new daughter Tumi for a few days. At two months, Tumi is still waking several times every night; and to Joy's increasing exasperation, Kubu never hears her.

The Bushmen, or San, think of themselves as "The First People." Recent genotyping research seems to support this claim, tracing their unique divergence back over 100,000 years. They have an unusual golden-brown undertone to their skins and are shorter than most races, with adult men rarely reaching five feet in height. Many are still hunter-gatherers, roaming the deserts and veldts in small family groups. They have no concept of private property, which often brings them into conflict with their neighbors in the world of today. They are an ancient people on the edge of extinction or assimilation.

While they live lightly on the land and have left no vast ruins or monuments, the San have left their mark in many hundreds of caves in the Kalahari. Both religious and aesthetic, this stunning record of their lives can be tracked over thousands of years. In fact, this book opens with the journey of a Bushman and his adolescent son to the most sacred and secret of these places.

To Kubu's surprise, his friend Khumanego offers to go with him and act as his translator to the Bushmen. Khumanego is passionately convinced of the innocence of the Bushmen, but his pleas to release them have fallen on deaf ears; Lerako remains stubbornly convinced of their guilt despite being unable to find credible evidence.

"When a kudu dies after we have hunted it, we feel its pain, and at the same time it knows it is providing for us. We have a shared purpose. We never hunt for more than we can eat, because if we did, it would be robbing the animal we had killed. Stealing its destiny. The world would get out of balance. Bad things would happen."

"When we stop in the desert, we never eat all the food that is available. Or drink all the water. We always leave some for those who come after. We would rather take hunger and thirst with us than leave it behind."

"We are all part of the same world. All connected. That is why the men you have arrested did not kill the man who died. Bushmen don't kill other men. If they did, they would be killing themselves."

Not until several other violent crimes have been committed, all apparently linked to the same area of low hills, is Lerako persuaded to release the three Bushmen in his custody.

While the story here is convoluted, the careful reader can solve the mystery ahead of the police. The characters are well developed, especially Kubu and his family, who I would enjoy meeting again. The desert setting is stunning and harsh, a far cry from the gentle Botswana of Alexander McCall Smith's Precious Ramotswe. But what I will remember longest from this book are the plight and lives of the Bushmen; their gentleness on the earth and their remarkable art. A people who would "take their hunger and thirst with them rather than leave it behind for another" could teach us a lot about how to live together.

Michael Stanley is the pen name of the team of Michael Sears and Stanley Trollip. Sears lives in Botswana, and Trollip in Minnesota and Botswana. Both are regular contributors to the award-winning Murder is Everywhere blog. Death of the Mantis is the third in their Inspector Kubu series, and the first that I have read. Their fourth, Deadly Harvest, will be released by Harper Paperbacks on April 30th.

No Expiration Date

I found a gray hair. On our dog. My husband's birthday is coming up. I dragged out my mom's old iron skillet and was in the middle of making corn bread when I realized my baking powder had expired. It seems as if old age is closing in from all directions. Even my books yell "Old!" Take a look at my recent reading and you'll see characters who aren't spring chickens. Or the books themselves are middle-aged, or set in the distant past. Of course, there's no expiration date on excellence when it comes to the written word.

Becky Masterman: Rage Against the Dying (2013). There's Clarice Starling and now there's retired FBI Special Agent Brigid Quinn. Brigid is married to an ex-priest and settled in Tucson, Arizona, when she learns that the Route 66 killer, involved in the disappearance of her protégé, has been captured. But maybe not. The beginning, in which a predator sizes up his prey, nearly creeped me out but I'm glad I persevered. Brigid, at age 59, kicks ass better than she cooks dinner.

Peter Steiner: The Terrorist (2010). Retired CIA Middle East expert Louis Morgon, who's living in France and dealing with cancer, is coerced by the imprisonment of a young friend into rejoining his old employer's war on terror. This is unusually character-driven espionage and also a beautifully written novel about relationships and mortality. The next book in the series, The Resistance, is reviewed by Sister Mary Murderous here.

Paul McEuen: Spiral (2011). Scientific thriller fans, make a note. Cornell physicist McEuen wrote what he knows in an exciting and thought-provoking doomsday thriller. His debut combines nanotechnology, biological engineering and Japanese WWII history. I hated to see Nobel Prize winner and Cornell Professor Emeritus Liam Connor leap off an Ithaca bridge to his death, but I enjoyed the investigators: Connor's physics department colleague Jake Sterling, his granddaughter Maggie and her nine-year-old son Dylan.

Michael Gilbert: Fear to Tread (1953). Gilbert wrote one intelligent mystery after another for decades. His best-known Inspector Hazelrigg book is probably Smallbone Deceased, but this is another good one. Wilfred Wetherall is a boys' school headmaster in post-WWII London. He carries on in good British fashion by resolutely tackling every problem, including a ring of vicious black marketeers. It's a very satisfying read.

John Mortimer: Forever Rumpole: The Best of the Rumpole Stories (2011). Let's raise a glass of Pommeroy's best plonk to the memory of Mortimer, who died in 2009, and his Old Bailey hack, Horace Rumpole. The 14 stories in this collection aren't new, but there's a new introduction by Anna Mallalieu––who knew Mortimer personally and professionally when he was Queen's Counsel––and a new piece of an unfinished novel, "Rumpole and the Brave New World." Reading Rumpole is one of the best ways to counter feeling old. Whether he's defending a member of the criminous Timson family, talking with colleagues in chambers or parrying the commands of his wife Hilda ("She Who Must Be Obeyed"), Rumpole is ageless in his optimism and enthusiasm for a good battle.

David Lawrence: The Dead Sit Round in a Ring (2004). Compelling blackest noir written under a pseudonym by acclaimed English poet David Harsent. Three elderly siblings, who must have formed a suicide pact, and an unidentified man are found dead in a London apartment. As if Det. Sgt. Stella Mooney doesn't have enough of a headache with her private life, there's this complex crime. This is the debut of a gritty English police procedural series featuring a tough and attractive female cop.

Michael Innes: A Night of Errors (1947). Over-the-top frolicking from Innes. Sir John Appleby, retired from New Scotland Yard, investigates the bizarre fireplace death of Sir Oliver Dromio, who followed family tradition by burning to a crisp. Appleby and Inspector Hyland do a full night's work, combing through the many suspects' motives. Bodies litter the landscape before it's over and the case draws to a close in this eleventh of 35 Appleby books. Very entertaining.

Laura Joh Rowland: Red Chrysanthemum (2006). A blood-soaked chrysanthemum is the only clue samurai investigator Sano Ichirō has to clear his wife Reiko of suspicion in the murder of Lord Mori. This is Rowland's eleventh book set in feudal Japan. It's wonderfully atmospheric and features her usual graceful writing and deft characterization.

Rupert Holmes: Where the Truth Lies (2003). Do you remember when Dean Martin teamed up with Jerry Lewis? If so you'll particularly enjoy this book, set in the 1970s and featuring journalist K. O'Connor, who has been asked to write about a duo obviously modeled on Martin and Lewis. Floating in their background is a murder. Holmes is a multiple award winner (Emmy, Tony, Edgar) and the snappy dialogue, show business setting and entertaining characters made it a finalist for the Nero Award.

Alana White: The Sign of the Weeping Virgin (2012). The title sounds like a Perry Mason case, but it's historical fiction set in 1480 Italy. Real-life Florentine lawyer Guid'Antonio Vespucci and his nephew Amerigo (who later explored and donated his name to the New World) have barely returned from a diplomatic mission in France before they're embroiled in Florentine politics and investigations of a kidnapping and a painted Virgin Mary that seems to be weeping. White's knowledge and wit, and the presence of the Vespuccis, Boticelli, da Vinci, the Medici family and other Renaissance figures, make this book a fun Italian trip.

Veronica Mars: Not Just for Teens

If you keep up with popular culture––or even if you don't––then you probably heard recently about the website Kickstarter's impressive fundraising to make a movie followup to the Veronica Mars TV show. The show appeared for three seasons, from 2004-2007, starred Kristen Bell as Veronica Mars, Enrico Colantoni as her father, Keith, and featured a raft of young actors, like Tina Majorino, Jason Dohring, Percy Daggs III, Amanda Seyfried and Max Greenfield. Veronica Mars was set in the sun-drenched southern California beachside town of Neptune, where you were either extremely wealthy or worked for the rich folks.

I remember one evening in 2004 when I was channel surfing and caught the beginning of the show. I was definitely not part of its target demographic, but who could resist the smartest, most badass 17-year-old blonde PI ever?

When Keith Mars was the county sheriff and Veronica was dating Duncan Kane (Teddy Dunn), son of billionaire software developer Jake Kane (Kyle Secor), she was part of the in crowd. All that changed after the murder of Lilly Kane (Amanda Seyfried), Duncan's sister and Veronica's best friend. Certain anomalies on the scene and in alibis made Keith suspect Jake. All hell broke loose after that.

When Jake Kane's company went public several years earlier, he'd made millionaires of dozens of people in town; pretty much every single employee at the company. Needless to say, he became extremely popular, and fingering him for the murder of his own daughter was politically unwise. Keith was booted out of the sheriff's job and started his PI firm (Mars Investigations), Veronica's mother (Corinne Bohrer) left the family and Veronica was forced by her so-called friends to choose between loyalty to her father and her membership in the "09er" social group.

Veronica chose Keith. Working at Mars Investigations and being cast out by the 09ers opened Veronica's eyes to the dark underside of Neptune and Neptune High. She lost every bit of sunny naïveté she'd ever had and became a tough-talking teenage Philip Marlowe. She even packed heat and wasn't afraid to use it––in this case a taser, though, not a revolver.

Here's the basic plot of Season One of the series. Like many crime series, there is a season-long mystery to be solved; in this case, it's the murder of Lilly Kane. This part of the story is a bit reminiscent of Twin Peaks, only without the incomprehensible and supernatural plot twists. Every episode of Veronica Mars also includes a single-episode mystery to be solved; either a case that walks through the door at Mars Investigations or something that comes up at Neptune High School.

In the pilot episode, Veronica rescues the new kid in school, Wallace, when he's found duct-taped to the school's flagpole. It seems Wallace made a big mistake in his job at a convenience store. He pressed the silent alarm button when local Mexican-American biker gang members shoplifted beer, but when the sheriff showed up and confronted the gangbangers and Wallace, Wallace decided his skin would be more likely to stay intact if he didn't rat on them. Too late, though. New Sheriff Don Lamb may be a smarmy jerk, but he's not an idiot. He calls Wallace a wimp and takes the store's security tape. Of course, that means the bikers are going to be charged. In one evening, Wallace has managed to alienate both the new sheriff and the biker gang members, who are classmates at Neptune High.

Now that Veronica has made friends with Wallace, that means she's got problems with the gang, including its head, Weevil. After exchanging some witty threats with Weevil, Veronica offers to fix the criminal case if the gang agrees to leave Wallace alone. She manages this in a clever caper that shows her ingenuity and the fact that in spite of everything, she still has some people in her corner. Her scheme gives Wallace protection and has the welcome side benefit of causing acute embarrassment for both Sheriff Don Lamb and one of her 09er tormenters.

In another episode, "Credit Where Credit's Due," Veronica has established an almost friendship with Weevil. (As the Shangri-Las used to sing, "He's good-bad, but he's not evil.") Weevil's grandmother is fired from her longtime domestic job with the family of movie star Aaron Echolls (Harry Hamlin) and is charged with having fraudulently used a credit card she obtained under the Echolls name. Veronica investigates, and in the process of clearing Weevil's abuela, she finds out a lot more about the secret lives of the 09ers––and Weevil's gang.

Subjects of other episodes' mysteries include missing family members, a dognapping ring, a school mascot-napping, a con game perpetrated against young 09er women, steroid smuggling, blackmail, extortion, a cult, money stolen in a high-stakes poker game, a fake ID ring, sexual harassment, domestic abuse, and bomb threats at Neptune High. And all the while, Veronica continues her investigation into Lilly Kane's murder, her missing mother, and her own rape at a party where she was roofied by a person or persons unknown. The final two episodes of Season One resolve all these mysteries, and they're thrill bombs, filled with action and motion.

Despite the fact that this show's protagonist is a teenager, this is no juvenile effort.  The mysteries' construction and solution are a cut above most TV crime drama. True, there's still time for teen romance, Veronica's cat-and-mouse battle against Sheriff Lamb, frequent clashes with the half-admiring Vice Principal Clemens, and high school hijinks; not that that's such a bad thing. This is also one of those shows filled with music that sends you to iTunes to check out that song with the catchy hook.

Here and here are some amusing moments from the show. Several bits feature teacher Mrs. Hauser, and I should note that the episode involving her (2.13: "Ain't No Magic Mountain High Enough") may be a psychological catharsis for you if you've had lingering emotional scars from a nemesis teacher.

For somebody AARP-eligible to enjoy a show about a teenage PI should be embarrassing, but can I call this a guilty pleasure if I frequently recommend it to my contemporaries––and the ones who've watched it have given it rave reviews?

Today is the final day of the Veronica Mars Kickstarter campaign. If you want to be part of it, you can make a pledge anytime before 11pm EDT, here.

Even if you don't want to be part of the Kickstarter campaign, check out the show; no matter if you're well past your own high school years. You can easily find the DVDs for purchase or rental, or watch episodes online here. And, you're in luck, because reruns of the series have been showing on weekdays at 5pm EDT (and repeated on the weekends) for some months on SOAPnet (argh, I know), and they are back to the beginning starting today.

The Cases of the Two Phoebes

I was struck by the symbolism of the names used by the author Benjamin Black in his novel The Silver Swan. His main protagonist is Dr. Garrett Quirke, who was introduced in Christine Falls, a story about a "fallen" (like a soldier is fallen) woman. He is a pathologist in 1950s Dublin, Ireland, who has a great thing for the bottle. As do babies, quips a friend of his. He describes himself as having a quirk––he suffers from an incurable curiosity, so when a friend of his named Billy Hunt from the early days of medical school comes to him with the story about his wife's death by suicide, and asks that he not do an autopsy, Quirke does just the opposite.

He searches just a bit, finds a single needle injection site on the victim's arm, does an autopsy and suddenly drops the case. For a while. Quirke has discovered that the victim, Deirdre, has transformed herself into Laura Swan and, as such, had been dealing with a man of ill-repute, Mr. White, snowy of hair and attire, as well as with a Dr. Kreutz, a cross between bad medicine and good spiritual advice.

What concerns Quirke at present is trying to reestablish his relationship with his daughter, Phoebe, who has only recently discovered her relationship with him. She is not particularly happy with it, but she dines with him weekly. Quirke is now on the wagon, except for these weekly meals, where he is down to one glass of wine.

When Phoebe flies into the path of Mr. White, Quirke fears for her safety, and it is only then that he awakes to the danger around her. Quirke does too little, too late, because he is afraid to make waves, and it is left to others to save the day. I found the book a letdown. The characters' names tell you everything you need to know, including who the killer is.

There is another Phoebe who is in danger in Safe from Harm, by Stephanie Jaye Evans. One October night, Pastor Walker "Bear" Wells is enjoying an evening out with his wife when he gets a terse text from his 15-year-old daughter Jo saying come home. They never expect to see their teenage girl cradling the body of a dead friend, Phoebe.

Actually, it would be more accurate to call this girl an ex-friend. She was as different from Jo as it was possible to be. On the one hand, Phoebe seems to want to model herself after the girl with the dragon tattoo. She has dyed her once-blonde hair a crow black that leaves her blonde roots yearning to show themselves, and her skin is bedecked with piercings like the little air vents on a Corvette. One of her worst characteristics is that she seems to be one of those people who  always need to do you one better. She has been to a more exotic location, she has had a better ballet teacher and she plans to attend the Air Force Academy, among other things. Don't we all know people like that? I have not wanted to murder one yet, but I have come close!

The problem with this is that none of it makes sense, because Phoebe comes from a poor background, has been living in a trailer park and has been taking care of a terminally-ill mother, while her father lives in the lap of luxury with his new wife and two children. At first, Jo's tender heart took pity on her, but then these discrepancies and Phoebe's utter dependence on Jo caused a parting of the ways, and they hadn't seen each other for weeks.

Phoebe had recently lost her mother and moved in with her dad and his new family. Now, by all appearances, this troubled young woman had taken her own life.

After calling 911, as well as an acquaintance, Detective James Wanderley, Bear waits and thinks about Phoebe's parents. Phoebe’s father and stepmother had moved to the upscale area of Sugar Land, Texas and were living in one of the more wealthy enclaves. They were members of Bear's church. While the family seemed well-constructed on the outside, attending church, and successful at work, on closer examination it was clear that the picture was flawed.

Bear was glad he was not a cop, because it was the lot of a policeman to look for the worst in people, while he was always able to look for the best. Sometimes, this made for an adversarial relationship, especially when Wanderley assumed that Jo had to be a drug pusher and perhaps a user as well, until proven otherwise, preacher's daughter not withstanding.

What bothered Jo, though, was that she knew that Phoebe was a fighter above all things, and that not only did she not use drugs, she would not have committed suicide. Jo takes it upon herself to prove her case.

In an insightful way, Evans shows with subtle humor that just as being in a garage for a long time doesn't make something a car, spending an appropriate time in church doesn't make a person a Christian. There may be twisted personalities and murderers lurking among the pews.

There are many layers to this story, and because there are twists and turns that will catch the reader unaware, I don't want to give anything away. Certainly, Jo Wells is the smartest––if a bit foolhardy––heroine I have pinned my hopes on in a long time.

Phoebe bird

A Phoebe is a little brown bird. Both of these Phoebes were living out of sync with their families. They had that in common. They differed, in that one could have died to experience freedom from the nest, and one would have loved to be in a nest once again.

In the cases of the two Phoebes, one bird got what she wanted and one didn't.

But one had Jo on her side. I recommend this book!

Review of Bill James's Vacuum

Vacuum by Bill James

Nature abhors a vacuum. All characters in Bill James's Vacuum, the 28th novel in his farcical-noir series, are in complete agreement about that. The clamorous debate is about how Nature will fill it.

In James's previous series book, 2011's I Am Gold, Manse Shale's wife Naomi and son Laurent are gunned down as Naomi drives Shale's Jaguar to school. Grief-stricken, Shale has retired as CEO of his hugely profitable "recreational firm" (a comprehensive drug-trafficking business) and immersed himself in religion. He's delegated all responsibility to his No. 2 man, Michael Redvers Arlington. Now, when Arlington's unbribable bodyguard, Edison L. Whitehead, calls Arlington "a great man, great intermittently," he means Arlington is very capable when he hasn't morphed, without warning, into General Francisco Franco. When Arlington is Francisco Francoing ("F.Fing"), he forgets the present and does things like phoning the German Defense Ministry to request the bombing of Guernica by Field Marshall Goering's aircraft. Arlington's many quick shuttles between sense and lunacy create instability and a precarious leadership void, in which ruthless people will jockey to fill it. They won't care if innocent people get hurt.

This danger is clear to the new Chief Constable, Sir Matthew Upton; ACC Desmond Iles; DCS Colin Harpur; and DCI Francis Garland. For years, the egomaniacal and amoral Iles has turned a blind eye to two separate drug-selling operations in his unnamed seaport in southwestern England: Shale's and Ralph ("Panicky Ralph") Ember's. As long as people ("especially younger women with brilliant arses") can stroll unhurriedly everywhere in his domain, all is well, because the greatest police objective after "stuff the Home Office," is "no blood on the pavement."

In Iles's view, drugs tenant the vacuum that Nature abhors. There will always be drugs––no matter how harsh the laws against them––and it's better that the dealing be confined to one area of the city, where it can be "expertly supervised by fine, though freewheeling, grossly libidinous, folk like Harpur here and Garland. Plus, of course, the Drugs Squad." [There are few differences, and many similarities or parallels, between police and crooks in James's series. Like Arlington, Iles is clever, but has spells of derangement––in his case, "flashback cuckold-fits," consisting of shout-screams and trembles, "producing a strobe effect from the silver buttons of his uniform"––when something reminds him that Harpur and Garland had affairs with his wife, Sarah. As if sharing brain spasms weren't enough, Arlington likes the "nice conviviality" of sharing Honorée, a prostitute, with Iles.]

Ralph Ember is a young Charlton Heston look-
alike; people expect him to act like El Cid

Sir Matt holds a different opinion about the vacuum. Ember is a drugs purveyor and a leading suspect in the unsolved murders of Naomi and Laurent Shale. Shale usually drove Laurent and his daughter, Matilda, to school, and his wife could have been killed by mistake. The deaths are a chance to destroy Shale's and Ember's drug operations. Towards this end, Sir Matt authorizes a search of Ember's estate, Low Pastures.

Sir Matt has upset the drugs-trade equilibrium lovingly created and maintained by Ember, Shale, and Iles. Criminals don't know if Ember and Iles had a falling out, if Sir Matt has taken away decision-making from Iles, or if Iles has changed his mind about the drug trade since the killings. Ember doesn't want to look like he can be kicked around. Ember's wife, Margaret, worries that, whether or not he was involved in the Shale murders, their two daughters may be targeted for retaliation. Whitehead tries to control Arlington's F.Fing. The employees farther down Shale's corporate ladder start muttering about the Peter Principle, which states that one is promoted to his or her level of incompetence. Karen Lister, the live-in girlfriend of Shale's current No. 2 man, gets nervous.

Southwestern England

On the police side: Iles, who resents being a congenital sidekick, and who has been "pasteurized" and "neutered" by the new Chief, now hopes to nurse Sir Matt away from his "new-brooming" towards "clarity" about drugs. Harpur––not by nature dull, but nearly always "jet-lagged by the necessity of keeping Iles from calamity," battered by the advice of his two teenage daughters, and distracted by his younger girlfriend, Denise, who's become intrigued by the "zipless fucks" of Fear of Flying––becomes zombified by indecision. All of these people, and others, are sucked into a situation they can't completely understand or control as Nature rushes to re-establish equilibrium.

*******

Colin Harpur is a fair-haired
Rocky Marciano almost-look-alike

Bill James's Harpur and Iles series––like William Marshall's Yellowthread Street Station books––is original and unique. It's a ferociously dark and funny British police procedural characterized by very skillful plotting, an atmosphere of brooding apprehension, and biting repartee between endearingly eccentric characters, who inhabit a bleak and violent world, where boundaries between good and evil are blurred. The dialogue is a treasure trove of witty wordplay. For example, Iles, who controlled and finally destroyed former Chief Constable Mark Lane, says of his new Chief, "In a while, I think I might become quite fond of Sir Matt. He's someone who knows his own mind and yet is not ashamed of it. I admire that kind of courage." Later, Iles asks after Sir Matt, "the poor, articulate, benighted, beknighted sod."

It took half a dozen books after You'd Better Believe It, the 1985 debut, for James to become thoroughly comfortable with his odd couple––the acerbic Iles and Harpur, who knows exactly how to handle him––but good books in the 29-book series are easy to find. Try Pay Day, in which neither criminals nor police know whether they can trust Chief Inspector Richard Nivette; or Wolves of Memory, which finds Harpur and Iles protecting a rambunctious informant. I highly recommend Harpur and Iles to people who are experiencing a black humor/noir vacuum.

Review of Nele Neuhaus's Snow White Must Die

Following a search tangent is like cutting
off a head of the Lernaean Hydra. Many
more search possibilities pop up.

Snow White Must Die by Nele Neuhaus, trans. by Steven T. Murray

Please cut me some slack today, as I give in to searchtangentitis, in which a word or idea prompts me to follow research trails that become increasingly unrelated until the original reason for searching has been lost. Nele Neuhaus's Snow White Must Die is full of searchtangentitis triggers. Just to give you a flavor of one of the trails I followed, I researched the German fairy tale and the Brothers Grimm, of course, and from there I went to dwarfs and apple varieties, Tales of Monkey Island (Disney, who made a Snow White movie, bought LucasArts, maker of the game Monkey Island), Haiti (an island), Tonton Macoute (scary-as-hell Haitian paramilitary group), wonton soup, Great White sharks, and Henry VIII. You get the idea. Since this is Friday, and Read Me Deadly has an "all bets are off" policy on Fridays, I'll indulge my searchtangentitis by giving some starting points for research as I talk to you about Neuhaus's book.

Snow White Must Die's prologue is a dreamy, tender scene reminiscent of the fairy tale. In a hidden place, an unknown man visits a recumbent woman, whom he calls Snow White. He knows she's dead, and, judging from her stiff and leathery skin, she died years ago. (→ mummy, a list of mummy movies, Steve Martin as King Tut, Nele Neuhaus)

The scene shifts, and it's Thursday, November 6, 2008. Famous German actress Nadia von Bredow is picking up her childhood friend, Tobias Sartorius, outside the Rockenberg Correctional Facility. Now 30 years old, Tobias served a 10-year sentence for the 1997 murders of two teenage girls, Laura Wagner and Stefanie Schneeberger. Laura was his ex-girlfriend, and Stefanie was his current girlfriend when they were last seen, entering Tobias's house. Tobias claims that his memory about what happened that night is a "black hole," and the bodies were never found. He was convicted on eyewitness testimony, circumstantial evidence, and blood stains on his clothes, in his room, and in the trunk of his car. Other physical evidence was found hidden in his house, and the murder weapon was found hidden outside. (→ international homicide rate, black hole, forensic crime fiction, amnesia)

When Nadia drops off Tobias at his family home in the Taunus Mountains village of Altenhain, Tobias is shocked by what he finds. His father, Hartmut, is a wreck, and the farm is strewn with trash. Hartmut's once-thriving restaurant has closed. His parents have divorced, and his mother, Rita Cramer, lives in Bad Soden. Tobias, who had planned to stay a few days, decides to help his father by cleaning up the property. When Tobias discovers one of his father's friends has taken financial advantage of him, he vows to stay until he can figure out what happened 11 years ago. This will not be easy, because the villagers are furious that Tobias has dared to return. A campaign of harassment begins. (→ Taunus Mountains, The Wall Street Journal, musophobia, German politics)

Among the few people who are friendly are Claudius Terlinden, the most powerful man in the village, and the father of Tobias's former best friend, Lars; Terlinden's autistic son, Thies; and a 17-year-old newcomer named Amelie Fröhlich, who works at the Black Horse. Amelie is friendly with Thies, and lives with her father and stepmother in the Schneebergers' old house. Everyone notices that Amelie has an "almost spooky" resemblance to the murdered Stefanie Schneeberger, who was nicknamed Snow White. Amelie has the "same finely etched and alabaster-pale facial features, the voluptuous mouth, the dark, knowing eyes." Until Tobias's arrival, Amelie found the villagers as interesting "as a sack of rice in China." Now she's obsessed with finding out about the old murders. (→ Altenhain, autism, graffitti art, snowflakes)

While Tobias deals with village hostility and a budding romance with Nadia, two significant events happen outside of Altenhain: a backhoe operator at a long-closed airfield in Eschborn discovers human bones and a skull in an empty underground jet fuel tank, and Tobias's mother is hospitalized in a coma after she's shoved off a Bad Soden pedestrian overpass and lands on a car passing below. Investigating these two crimes are Detective Inspector Pia Kirchhoff and her superior, Detective Superintendent Oliver von Bodenstein, who soon follow the evidence to Altenhain. There, they receive little cooperation. Pia notes discrepancies in the evidence that sent Tobias to prison, but what is she to think about Tobias's guilt when Amelie disappears? Man, there is no shortage of secrets in Altenhain. (→ prehistoric brain surgery, Freud on guilt, Patricia Highsmith, "guilt"-tagged movies, BMW cars)

Snow White Must Die is a beautifully atmospheric German thriller about a search for justice, involving themes of guilt and redemption, outsiders vs. insiders, and loyalty and betrayal. The village's cultural mores are fascinating, as are the topical issues in mental health and crime. It's the fourth book in the Bodenstein-Kirchhoff series, although so far it's the only one translated into English. Translator Steven T. Murray has done an excellent job. After the flow of Scandinavian crime fiction, perhaps we'll finally see more mysteries from Germany trickling in. (→ thriller genre, atmospheric optics, outsider art)

German cops, like cops everywhere, juggle personal loyalty to each other with loyalty to the force, and demands of work and family. I liked Neuhaus's cops. Bodenstein is the son of a countess (when he is wounded, Pia laughs to see his blood is red, rather than blue) and father of three children. Pia says he's Cary Grant handsome and charming. (Does Bodenstein remind you at all of Dorothy L. Sayers's Lord Peter Wimsey or Elizabeth George's Thomas Lynley?) Bodenstein would be happier if Cosima, his movie-producer wife, stuck to Kinder, Küche, Kirche. Their relationship has been strained since their Mallorca vacation was interrupted by Bodenstein's job. Bodenstein is now miserable because he suspects that Cosima is having an affair. Pia also has distractions: Bodenstein isn't his usual self, her ex-husband is in a messy spot, and her farm remodeling plans were denied a permit. Despite these issues, the 41-year-old Pia is happy. Her lover, Christoph Sander, is a zoo director whose smile "always triggered in Pia the almost irrepressible desire to throw herself into his arms." (→ Cary Grant movies, German beer, Life of Pi)

I also enjoyed a peek at Germany's law enforcement and legal systems. A couple of things struck me: for murder, there's no statute of limitations in the US, but there's a 30-year statute of limitations in Germany. When those human bones are discovered in the old airfield fuel tank, careful forensic analysis to determine how long it's been since death is crucial. And, I was surprised that Tobias could study to become a locksmith while in prison; would that be allowed here? (→ statute of limitations, the Wright brothers, explore human anatomy, list of films featuring extraterrestrials)

Finally, Neuhaus repeatedly uses the Snow White colors⎯"white as snow, red as blood, black as ebony"⎯to gorgeous effect in descriptions of the winter settings, names (e.g. the Ebony Club, Schnee[snow]berger), and characters' appearances, emotions (e.g., black despair, white rage, red embarrassment), and relationships. Scenes alternate between the villagers in Altenhain and the investigating cops, but there's no trouble following the action. The plot is timely and twists smartly. Although the final quarter could have been trimmed, the suspense is well handled, with skillful misdirection and foreshadowing. Nele Neuhaus's Snow White Must Die was already an international best-seller when it was published by Minotaur Books in 2012. It's no wonder. I enjoyed it, and I'm hoping for more.