Hartstone’s debut draws on the real-life town of Marshall, Texas: a quarter of all patent cases in the country are heard there. In the 1990s, Judge T. John Ward made his courtroom in the Eastern District of Texas, or EDTX, a kind of patent-trial machine, using timers when lawyers spoke and limiting the number of pages they could file. In addition, Marshall’s juries award unusually high amounts in damages, all making EDTX attractive to those suing for patent infringement. Judge Ward is called Gardner here, but the practices are the same. Appearing in his court is Amir Zawar, whose rideshare app may have stolen another product’s design. Representing Zawar is James Euchre, a lawyer who tells himself he’s quit smoking…he only has a few per day, after all…and is trying to limit himself to three drinks a day. His resolve is tested when his client is, shall we say, reluctant to go along with court decorum. It’s not a great idea to hit your lawyer and threaten the judge’s life, but it’s even worse when the judge is later found dead. Euchre has never worked on a criminal case before, let alone one that could involve the death penalty, but Zawar insists he stay in the lead counsel seat, with both characters, along with Euchre’s love-interest coworker in the trial, taking readers on a tension-filled ride to justice. Lawyers, such as one Mr. Grisham, have long written compelling legal thrillers; this book, by an experienced TV writer, stacks up favorably against the legal greats.
Suspense
Jewelann Jordan attends her high-school reunion to nonchalantly run into her former, sort-of-boyfriend, Christian Campbell, and dump him later that night as revenge for his behavior when they were teens. Christian, who reveals that he’s now a surgeon, and who takes more than one reunion attendee back to his hotel room, doesn’t take well to rejection. A few days later, Jewelann’s controlling husband, Ken, announces that he’s renting out their carriage house, has already found a tenant, and by the way he’s here already. You can guess who it is. Thus begins a fraught game. Jewelann believes Ken’s business trips are covering an affair, but she’s scared to confront him. And what if he knows about what Jewelann and Christian used to get up to in that carriage house, activities that Christian wants to continue and is threatening to reveal? The maelstrom of emotions and abuse boils over in the most shocking way, and readers will not be ready for the whoa-that’s-way-out-there ending. Hardy is a pseudonym for author Megan Hart, whose just released Coming Up for Air also opens with reunion shenanigans.[‘
A complex tale centered around law student Saraswati “Sara” Bhaduri, who’s struggling financially to put herself through law school. One of her side gigs is bartending at a dive bar, which is how she meets up with Sarah Ellis, who’s passed out in the women’s room one closing time. Oddly, they hit it off as they wait for their Ubers, which arrive at the same time. Sara jumps in and in seconds is asleep—only to wake up miles from home in the rich part of town. There’s only one explanation: they mixed up their cars. When she makes it home, it’s to find her building a crime scene and Sarah dead. Is Sara in some way responsible? Sara’s guilt may seem odd at first, but as the novel expands—and we learn more about her life—the pieces start to fall into place. It’s fun to see Sara take even greater charge of her life as she fights to learn what happened to Sarah and what might be her own fate. A fresh and powerful new voice, this is a crime writer to watch.
A brilliant look at pandemics through the eyes of Haley, a 16-year-old girl who, with her little brother, are abducted from their mother by their father and taken to a rural farm—no Internet, no cell phones—in northern Scotland. They join a handful of survivalists, Haley’s dad is clearly the ringleader, and they’re waiting for the next pandemic, which should be arriving any day; a new virus, more horrible than anything we can imagine, has just made its way to the U.K. Bleak? Indeed. But fascinating, and even comic at times. Haley writes the book as a sort of parody of her father’s survivalist manual, with her own sarcastic spin (“How to Abduct Your Own Children,” “Home Surgery for Beginners.”) Add to this rich details about life on the compound, a budding romance with the one other teen in lockdown, and continual speculation about her parents, both of whom she believes to be crazy—any reader would agree—and whose epic divorce left her having to always choose between them. At the heart of the book is the question of truth. Is the world beyond the barbed wire that surrounds the farm really erupting in chaos, with riots in the streets and bands of the infected roaming the countryside? Or is life as they knew it chugging along, little different except that Haley and her family have left it? And does Haley—or any of the survivalists—really want to know the answer? A bit of crime fiction, a lot of dystopia, and 100 percent compelling.
Isabel Henley leaves Boston for the remote coastal Scotland college of St. Stephens, ready to immerse herself in a feminist perspective of Catherine de Medici’s court. She’s chosen St. Stephens so she can work with Professor Madeleine Grainger, but arrives to find that Madeleine has fallen from cliffs near the school and died. There are whispers that it wasn’t an accident, but Isabel hopes they’re just drama—St. Stephens is quite the gossip hothouse. Isabel’s other contact, Rose Brewster, a student she knew in Boston, soon disappears mysteriously, leaving Isabel both socially bereft and unsure of her future at the school. Then things take a turn, both for the better and the much worse. Isabel takes over Rose’s dissertation—it’s funded!—and she’s off to Genoa, Italy, to research the history of a family still living there, the decidedly odd Falcones. Isabel is locked into their home’s archive every day by the debonair son of the house, deciphering letters written during the Renaissance that offer a tantalizing look at past life and politics (a Falcone was involved in a conspiracy to assassinate French king Henry III) and a chance to save Rose. Also tantalizing is Margaret’s language, which immerses us in Genoa’s “intestinal alleys” and Renaissance passive aggression (“I know I can expect nothing in return except for your contempt” is a winning line in one love letter). There are two attractions here: the present-day academic whodunit and the olden puzzle revealed in Renaissance letters; viewers of the Netflix series “The Chair” will eat this up, as will readers of Philippa Gregory and Robert J. Lloyd.
If you open this book thinking it’s a medical thriller—which is how it’s marketed—then you’ll be terribly disappointed. But take it on its own terms and it is one of the most evocative and heart-rendering tales you’ll have encountered in quite a while. A young Scottish doctor, caught stealing and using opioids, is deemed fit to return to practice and lands in St. Luke’s—one of London’s roughest hospitals and a place that’s desperately in need of staff. Author Stephenson was trained as a doctor, and this book goes deeply—and fascinatingly—into life in the hospital. Add to this a great cast of characters, including George, an orthopedist, rugby player, and teddy bear of a man who rooms with our protagonist, helping to keep him grounded. The criminal element comes into play when it’s discovered that several of St. Luke’s patients have died from opioid overdoses, clearly at the hands of medical personnel, with our narrator suspect number one. Woven throughout the book are the stories of doctors throughout history who doubled as serial killers—these sojourns away from the narrative will drive some readers crazy but I found the context they provided fascinating. In the end, the book comes down to just a few characters and a couple of questions: How does medicine, “a dark and a terrible knowledge,” force its practitioners to see things differently? And what’s the impact when they do see differently?
Best title of the year, amirite? And the best antihero as well. Grace Bernard was raised in London by her loving but impoverished single mom. Her father, a multi-millionaire, won’t have anything to do with them, even when Grace’s mother is dying and begs for support for their daughter, then a young teen. But by her mid-twenties, Grace is ready to take matters into her own hands and avenge her mother’s hard life. Grace doesn’t want to just polish off dear old dad. She slowly and meticulously plots the murders of everyone on the paternal side of her family, with her father last on the list, having watched his parents, children, and in-laws die before him. Yes, it’s dark, but it’s also deliciously wicked and brilliantly plotted, so much so that Grace is a bit wistful that no one except her will enjoy the genius of it all. Thus this book, which is meant to be locked away and discovered by future generations. Until something most unexpected occurs, upending Grace’s brilliant plan. Grace is sophisticated, urbane, droll, and at times risible. I could listen to her voice forever.
How’s this for a setting: a 205 unit high-rise building in rural Alaska that houses the entire town’s population as well as stores, offices, and more. Welcome to Point Mettier, a pretty creepy village to begin with that only gets worse when body parts—a foot, a hand—wash up on the frozen shore. The local cops seem ready to shrug off the remains—lots of tourists fall off those cruise ships!—when they’re joined by Anchorage detective Cara Kennedy, who takes the matter a whole lot more seriously. What was meant to be a quick visit becomes a much longer excursion as the first brutal storm of the season moves in, closing off the tunnel, the one way in and out of town during winter. With time to spare, Cara digs deeper into the community, only to discover that almost everyone in Point Mettier has a secret to hide. A simmering romance with one of the other officers provides Cara with much needed distraction, but soon enough a violent gang, hanging out in a nearby Native village, takes center stage. This is a successful, well-paced first novel that juggles a range of cultures, a handful of strong characters, and a nuanced protagonist, delivering a very satisfying ending. And get this: Point Mettier pretty much actually exists. Check out Whittier, Alaska.
Rose O’Connell’s never been confident. At her downmarket English school, she was bullied as “Rotten Rosie” after her father was publicly disgraced. While her life has since improved, her husband struggles to find work and they’re deep in debt. Then she gets her son, Charlie, into The Woolf Academy, an exclusive school in the rapidly gentrifying neighborhood she grew up in. In fact, it’s her old school, but it’s now completely unrecognizable, as is the house she grew up in, where Amala Kaur, the CEO of the new school, lives. Woolf Academy seems too strict with Charlie yet indulgent of the other children, and while Rose is determined to do whatever it takes to help her son, she quickly finds that the mean girls she faced years ago have nothing on the circle of snooty women in charge here. It’s complicated and confusing when things begin to thaw and Rose is invited into the inner circle after the mysterious death of one of its members; slowly readers will begin to wonder if there’s anything she won’t do to please Amala and her ice-queen clique. By the time Amala wants something that made me gasp out loud—just the first of several gut-punching twists—it seems too late for Rose to salvage her marriage, her career, and even her sense of self. For readers of mean-girl titles and those who enjoyed The Hawthorne School by Sylvie Perry.
An anthology of 22 short stories that are selected to witness, as Maxin Jukubowski writes in the introduction, “an explosion of crime and mystery writing by writers of all colours and ethnic backgrounds, winning awards and enjoying critical acclaim, as well as opening up a whole new readership in the process.” And this marvelous collection certainly doesn’t disappoint, with crime stories from diverse cultures, featuring works by S.A. Cosby, Silvia Moreno-Garcia, Rachel Howzell Hall, Sanjida Kay, Walter Mosley, and so many more. It’s fun to encounter authors you think you know trying out something entirely new, such as Abir Mukherjee, who leaves behind 1920s India for a very contemporary tale of crime that ends in a most pleasing way. In fact, many of the stories are full-blown mysteries, just boiled down to their essence, with the shocking, O. Henry-like twists that readers love. Oyinkan Braithwaite’s “Jumping Ship,” a brilliant recounting of a love affair that goes way, way off the rails is so surprising it demands the reader give it a second, or even third, reading. A surefire way to introduce readers to authors, The Perfect Crime is a required purchase for all public libraries.