Howard Elias was a high-profile, but contentious Los Angeles lawyer, whose stock-in-trade was suing the LAPD. He only filed in the federal court and typically under the civil human rights codes, whereupon his skilled use of social media also rubbed salt into the open wound of racial tension that scarred the city. Elias was reviled by police, revered by those he represented, but when he is gunned down on ‘Angels Flight’ (a historic inclined railway and downtown landmark), the authorities are immediately fearful of a potential backlash and the possibility of a return to the violent racial riots of 1992. Realizing that many would believe the murder was perpetrated by the police and accordingly be mistrustful of their investigation, it falls to Deputy Chief Irving to hand this poisoned chalice to Detective Harry Bosch and his team. It’s a decision that carries risk. In such a politically-charged atmosphere, Bosch, Edgar and Rider know that their selection is a cynical nod to ethnic diversity, but they’re also capable investigators, with integrity and will demand that the chips fall where they may, despite attempts to stifle their efforts by the inclusion of Internal Affairs and the FBI.

Indeed, there are distractions aplenty for Bosch in this sixth book in the series, as his short-lived marriage to Eleanor Wish is in melt-down, his path is crossed once more by arch antagonist from the IAD, John ‘Sustained’ Chastain (see ‘The Black Ice’ and ‘Trunk Music’) and a succession of barriers arise, including a leak from within the department, barring his way to the truth. Readers/fans are, of course, familiar with the irreverent attitude of Bosch to the political calculations of his bosses and his resilience at being repeatedly thrown under the bus of investigations with the capacity to combust spectacularly, but he is also unerringly loyal to his team colleagues (past and present) and is always willing to take a hit for them.

In this powerful story, the plot is so much more than the obvious crime of murder and is as much about the hidden network of associates connected to the late Mr Elias and a swirl of cases,causes and effects, past and present, which continue to keep a fatal momentum of their own. In the impending ‘Black Warrior’ court case, Elias was again confidently primed to expose the depth of corrupt police behaviour and the inept nature of another flawed investigation by the LAPD. With the rhetoric of charismatic preacher Reverend Tuggins fanning the flames of a smouldering sense of injustice, in sections of the community, Bosch needs to solve the murder and prevent a potential miscarriage of justice, which could ignite the whole tinder box. Meanwhile, the book also draws into view those characters with politicized appointments tasked with fronting a system of justice that is seen to be good enough and must spin the unpalatable truth in ways that Bosch understands, yet despises.

Whilst the detective’s perspective of what’s right is laudably heroic to the reader, the body count that follows is high and I do wonder at the burden on his conscience moving forward. Still, Conelly also weaves lighter moments into his book, such as the poster advertising Clint Eastwood’s film “Blood Work” (a rather droll reference to his earlier title, wherein reality and fiction are neatly combined). In any event, I am compelled onward to “A Darkness More Than Night” (Book 7 in the series), with a real spring of 4 star satisfaction in my step.

Have done the most important job following my move to North Carolina.

I have got myself a library card.

Mystery, definitely. 

For one thing, I'm a total chicken -- I can't look at blood (not even, or rather, especially not my own, e.g. in medical procedures); and anything shocking, spooky, or otherwise unnaturally unsettling just has me running for the rafters.  That's particularly true at night -- which is when I'm doing a good deal of my reading -- but basically, it applies 24/7.  So that not only rules out slashers and other forms of gory horror, but pretty much any and all forms of psychological horror as well.  The only stories typically classified as "horror" that I can go near are classics where I essentially know what's going to happen from the word "go" (e.g., Stevenson's Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde), or ghost stories (mostly classics as well) where the appearance of the ghost(s) is (1) in itself not overly unsettling, at least not in the way in which it is presented to the reader, and / or (2) tied to a larger point that the author is trying to make.  (E.g.  most of Edith Wharton's ghost stories, Charles Dickens's The Signalman and -- of course -- A Christmas Carol and The Chimes, and Oscar Wilde's hilarious send-up of the genre, The Canterville Ghost.)  Edgar Allan Poe is a special case ... I do love some of his writing (e.g., The Masque of the Red Death and The Raven), but The Tell-Tale Heart creeped the hell out of me way back in high school, and that cat story (which shall remain unnamed in this post) ... well, let's just say once was once too often.

And then -- well, I became a mystery reader all the way back in elementary school, and that was probably the most formative reading experience of my entire life.  It started with a series of books specifically targeting elementary school kids, whose (idiomatic) title went straight to my little smarta$$ jugular, challenging me to demonstrate I had what it took to solve them.  From there, it was practically guaranteed I'd move on to and love the Three Investigators series -- by which time my mom had caught on once and for all, too, and in short order presented me with my first Agatha Christie -- After the Funeral, which for that reason alone will always be one of my personal favorites.  And the rest, as they say, is history!

I've long stopped looking "just" for clever puzzles in mysteries, although that is still at least one of the things I want to see -- it takes a lot of other things in a book to work well for me if I've solved the mystery early on and still end up liking the book.  But on the other hand, I'll be just as unhappy if I can't connect, on some level or other, with the main character (or if not them, at least an important supporting character) -- or if I'm presented with shallowly drawn, cardboard or just flat out boring characters, or if the plot just ties one trope onto the next or is otherwise devoid of originality.  In other words, a mystery that works for me will always be more than merely the hunt for a killer (or other criminal, as the case may be) -- it will be a complex blend of well-drawn, individual characters and an intelligent plot, and ideally the characters will also have some other (e.g., personal) challenges to deal with on their journey to the mystery's solution.

Since I also love historical fiction (and nonfiction), historical mysteries are a particular favorite -- provided they're well-researched, such as Ellis Peters's Brother Cadfael series (a long-time favorite) and C.J. Sansom's Shardlake series (my most recent "must-read" series) --, but I've never lost my love for the Golden Age classics -- next to Christie, in particular Sherlock Holmes and everything Dorothy L. Sayers, as probably everybody here knows -- and am thrilled to also see Golden Age crime fiction above and beyond the eternal great ones making such a huge comeback in recent years.  Martin Edwards, the current president (and chief archivist) of both the Detection Club and the Crime Writers' Association, may not be everybody's cup of tea personally, but there's no denying that his lobbying for the revival of Golden and Silver Age crime fiction has a lot to do with this, and I think he deserves huge plaudits on those grounds alone.  That said, P.D. James's writing (and her Inspector Dalgliesh) also has had a special place in my heart for longer than I can remember ... and I'm inordinately happy to have discovered many more great women crime writers and women detectives in recent years; most recently, Joy Ellis's Jackman and Evans series (*waves to Jennifer*).

Oh, and for the record, the "I can't look at blood" thing applies to mysteries as well, of course -- which is one of the reasons why as a rule I don't read serial killer books; nor any other mysteries where I know, going in, that the corpse or the crime scene will be described in gratuitously graphic terms.   [She said, side-eying J.K. Rowling for the second Cormoran Strike book, which definitely should come with a warning label attached.]  However, I am not at all opposed to grit and grime in a mystery's setting -- in fact, I particularly enjoy both classic noir crime fiction (with Raymond Chandler a particular favorite) and modern crime fiction that takes a look at the state of society, such as Michael Connelly's and Ian Rankin's books.

Not a typical serial killer. 

A lawyer was killed. And he is most likely silenced. 

So who kill this one?

Racial tension is high. LA got a potential riot.

And no one is really telling the truth. 

It all starts with a young girl being killed few years ago. Now the killer was being set free when this lawyer found new evidence that the police got the wrong guy.

That's started the whole thing. 

The plot twist is unexpected. And there is a lot of dark surprise here. 

I´m back from the dark and dangerous streets of LA and what a fabulous ride it was.

Out of all the Bosch novels I have read so far, this has been the best one.

Season 4 of the Bosch television series is based on this book.

Memorial Day Roll #1

Page count: 400 pages = $ 3.00