Planes by Peter C. Baker

Published by Knopf on May 31, 2022

Planes begins by inserting the reader in the head of an Italian woman who changed her name from Maria to Amira when she converted to Islam after marrying Ayoub. Amira did not convert because she has any strong religious belief but because she thought supporting Ayoub’s religion would give him stability and strengthen their marriage.

In the opening pages, we learn that Amira is living alone. She is saying at least some of her daily prayers to feel closer to her husband. Ayoub has been detained without charges for two years, presumably on suspicion of terrorism. His lawyer believes he’s being held in a prison in Morocco, but his heavily censored and irregularly delivered letters reveal little about his life.

The first section of the novel reveals Amira’s fear that everyone in her neighborhood is judging her for being married to a terrorist. She is also afraid to be seen with a friend from her childhood, the boy who took her virginity and who has resurfaced in Rome. Amira is scraping by, using all her earnings to pay rent to maintain their apartment in the hope that Ayoub will return, allowing them to resume their life together in a familiar environment.

The novel then begins a journey through the lives of connected characters — the kind of characters who dominate mainstream American fiction. Melanie is liberal who serves on a school board in Springwater, North Carolina. The long-term best friends of Melanie and her husband Art bonded years ago over their commitment to social activism, but now their friendship seems like a habit. Melanie is tasked with making a compromise with Bradley Welk, a Republican member of the school board, so naturally they end up negotiating in bed. The affair becomes complicated. That’s the nature of affairs.

When the story circles back to Amira, we get Ayoub’s backstory. He is working in a pizza shop when Amira first meets him. She is bored and looking for a “symbol of difference. A new thing. A discovery. Foreign.” The story follows their marriage and the developments that strain it, beginning with all the people who tell her it is wrong to marry a Pakistani or any Muslim. Their story eventually returns to the present.

How are the stories linked? The plane that transported Ayoub from Italy to the secret prison in Morocco took off from Springwater, using a local air charter service that is a CIA front. Local residents were in the dark about the charter service, except perhaps for Welk, who is listed as one of its owners. It’s bad enough to have an affair but having an affair with someone who enables torture is particularly rough for a liberal, compounding Melanie’s anxiety about her selfish choice.

The best scenes in the novel involve Ayoub’s attachment to a stray cat — a cat that, like Ayoub, survives deep wounds and needs to be healed, a cat that brings back memories of a cat who served as a symbol of love in a place of darkness — and Amira’s resentment that Ayoub does not display the same attachment to her.

Planes benefits from Peter Baker’s fluid prose and careful exploration of how a false accusation of terrorism devastates lives. The Springfield characters are also built with solid characterization, but their story is familiar and less interesting. My knock on the novel is Baker’s complete failure to resolve any of its storylines. That’s a trend in modern novels, a reflection of the reality that each moment in life is a shapshot in time and who knows what might happen next? The high school teachers who told us that stories should have a beginning, a middle, and an end turned out to be wrong, at least to modern novelists who see no need to work out endings. Still, it’s frustrating not to have at least a partial resolution of at least one storyline. Characterization and fluid prose earn Planes a recommendation, but the novel isn’t for readers want to know what happens next.

RECOMMENDED

Monkey in the Middle by Loren D. Estleman

Published by Forge Books on June 21, 2022

Hardboiled private detectives have always been a mainstay of crime fiction. They no longer dominate the field, but there are still a few fictional private eyes who are worth following. Loren D. Estleman’s long-running Amos Walker series is near the top of my list of current private eye stories that are worth a reader’s time.

Shane Southern is a researcher who worked for a successful but recently retired writer. Shane hires Amos under a pretext. Amos has a nose for pretext and, after accepting Shane’s retainer, follows him to learn what the man is really about. His investigation leads him to Abelia Hunt, a fugitive who stole some government secrets that the government wants back. The monkey in the middle is the one that hears no evil. The government does not want its secrets to be heard.

When a DIA agent searching for Abelia turns up dead, Amos has a murder mystery on his hands. The DIA agent’s partner, Abelia’s lawyer, a journalist, and a retired cop all play significant roles in the plot as Amos pieces the clues together.

A secondary plot begins with the death of Amos’ ex-wife. She died of cancer, but the man with whom she was living tells Amos that a blue Buick was following her in the last weeks of her life. Readers who understand how crime novels are constructed will suspect that there is a link between the surveillance of Amos’ former wife and the surveillance of Shane (and eventually Amos) by agents who are trying to find Abelia.

With its history of corruption and a pronounced gap between wealth and squalor, Detroit is a natural setting for a crime novel. An abandoned gas station that was once a thriving front for a criminal organization is the kind of landmark that adds the color of noir to Amos’ tale.

Estleman is a reliable storyteller who writes with flair. Amos’ office is decorated in “tasteful earth tones of dirty olive and oil spill.” Estleman’s evocative prose, his smart plot, and his atmospheric setting make Monkey in the Middle a good choice for fans of traditional private detective stories.

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The Local by Joey Hartstone

Published by Doubleday on June 14, 2022

The Local is a courtroom drama that stars a patent lawyer. Patent law offers little drama to anyone other than inventors who believe their inventions have been stolen. Since patent infringement trials are snoozeworthy, fans of courtroom dramas will be pleased to learn that patent disputes give way to a murder trial early in the novel.

James Euchre has a patent law practice in the Eastern District of Texas. Judge Gardner has earned a reputation that makes him favored by lawyers who want to file patent infringement lawsuits. Big firms from all around the country file suits in Marshall, Texas and some of them hire Euchre as their local counsel. Euchre often delivers the closing statement because jurors relate to him. He also gets along well with Gardner. The judge has been Euchre’s mentor.

Euchre is hired as local counsel to represent an American of Pakistani ancestry. The client, Amir Zawar, has a negative experience with Gardner at their first court appearance. Zawar scuffles with Euchre (who is trying to stop Zawar from confronting the judge) and says “I’ll kill you,” perhaps to the Marshal who is twisting his arm but perhaps to the judge. In any event, someone murders the judge in the courthouse parking lot and circumstantial evidence points the finger of guilt at Zawar.

Euchre ends up agreeing to represent Zawar in a state murder prosecution. It seems like terrible judgment for a patent lawyer to take on a murder prosecution as his first criminal case, but that’s the premise so the reader needs to roll with it to enjoy the story. I understand Zawar’s desire to be represented by local talent, but one wonders why he didn’t ask about local lawyers who might be familiar with criminal law. Euchre is at least second chaired by a patent lawyer who used to be a federal prosecutor.

Most of the novel is devoted to trial theater. Euchre develops a couple of alternative suspects, including a Magistrate who benefits from Gardner’s death by gaining a nomination to replace him on the bench. In the tradition of courtroom dramas, the reader wonders who actually committed the murder. The reveal is surprising and tolerably credible, making the novel a success from the perspective of plot development, which is generally the most important element of a courtroom drama. There’s also enough action at the end to justify classifying the novel as a thriller. To his credit, Joey Hartstone underplays the action. Euchre might have played cornerback in high school, but patent lawyers aren’t credible action heroes.

Some of the novel’s characterization is based on Euchre’s connection to Marshall, the town where he grew up and where he played high school football (on a team that was a rival of the prosecutor’s). That works because it’s Texas, where high school football reigns supreme. Euchre lives in the shadow of his father, a successful criminal defense lawyer. Euchre’s guilt about his relationship with his bipoplar dead wife is a bit forced but it isn’t overplayed. Hartstone gives Euchre the psychological burdens that make characters interesting. A female private detective who used to be a star high school field goal kicker is a bit sassy, making her the best collateral character.

At times, Euchre becomes philosophical. The novel’s interest comes from the plot, not from Euchre’s musings about life. Still, the plot is sufficiently strong to make The Local a novel that fans of courtroom thrillers should enjoy.

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January Fifteenth by Rachel Swirsky

Publsihed by ‎ Tor.com on June 14, 2022

January 15 is Universal Basic Income Day, the holiday when everyone collects their money. UBI was born in “an extraordinary act of political will” after the world reached the brink of nuclear war. People were so happy to be alive, Janelle explains, that they decided to save the world, settling on UBI as the solution. Maybe the concept is Rachel Swirsky’s reaction to pandemic payments made to people who didn’t need them. The book’s premise doesn’t necessarily make sense (the link between nuclear annihilation and a universal income is less than clear), but it provides the foundation for the story that follows.

Janelle supported the idea of making things better, but now realizes that “making things better doesn’t always work.” Almost as soon as UBI was enacted, the wealthy began looking for ways to take it away from those who need it the most, particularly if they have dark skin (like Janelle) or are naturalized citizens. Inevitably, some of those who could have used the money productively spend it on drugs or cults. Janelle’s sister believes reparations would be more just than UBI. One of Swirksy’s points seems to be that society can help people but can’t force people to help themselves.

Unfortunately, Swirsky seems to have been more interested in making points than in telling a cohesive story. January Fifteenth follows four sets of characters who are linked only by the fact that their stories unfold on UBI Day.

Janelle and Nevaeh are sisters conducting interviews for aggregators, gathering reactions to UBI Day. They ask school kids how their parents will spend their money. They enter banks and talk to people who are depositing their checks. They talk to shoppers in malls. Some people blame UBI for breeding laziness and encouraging people not to get jobs, but nobody seems to be refusing the money. Apart from offering transcripts of other people’s reactions to UBI, the chapters that follow Janelle and Nevaeh focus on their sibling relationship, how they were raised, and how Janelle is raising Neveah now that their parents are dead.

Hannah is having issues with her violent ex-wife. They have two sons to whom ex-wife Abigail gave birth, but Hannah is keeping them in hiding with the help of an older woman who has military training and doesn’t take Abigail’s crap.

Sarah is a pregnant fifteen-year-old who needs to see mainstream Mormon social workers. Sarah is married to a non-mainstream husband whose other wives are regarded as Sarah’s sister-wives. Sarah doesn’t appreciate being judged by the mainstreams.

Olivia is partying with other students from elite colleges on UBI Day. Rich people are competing to waste their UBI money creatively, but Olivia hasn’t entered the contest. She’s tripping on something similar to Ecstasy while two other party goers, a male and a female, argue about whether Olivia consented to the sex she had with the male.

The permutations of gender play a strong background role in the novel. Nevaeh changed her birth-assigned gender. Janelle is uncomfortable interviewing children because some parents become upset when she asks kids about their preferred gender pronouns. (To Janelle, the question is only polite.) Janelle and Nevaeh argue about teen slang for gender, which has broadened considerably in this near future. Janelle prefers traditional terms like trans, cis, and nonbinary, but traditional is the last thing that language ever wants to be.

Class is another social issue that receives prominent attention. Wealthy people euphemistically refer to the poor as “the mobile class.” Janelle has heard rumors that Native women have been told they must be sterilized to collect their UBI.

The story’s emphasis on various social issues — rape and domestic violence, race and class and gender, oppression in its many forms, bulimia, the impact of religious cults on teenage girls, social welfare — deprives the novel of focus. The story is scattered through the four sets of characters who seemingly exist only to allow Swirksy to check as many social-issue boxes as she could, I’m all in favor of science fiction that asks how social issues might be addressed in the future, but none of the issues here benefit from the deep dive that sf at its best provides.

Swirsky’s larger theme seems to be that attempts to solve problems will inevitably create new problems. Government services were cut to pay for UBI, with devastating impacts for people who lost in-home care and students who no longer receive free lunches. Nor does UBI solve other problems, including collapsing mines in Appalachia and the influx of climate refugees. The novella-length book is a long walk to illustrate the obvious conclusion that no solution to any social problem will be perfect. While characters offer interesting and diverse opinions that might spark book club discussions, the novella as a whole lacks resolution and never coheres into a work that is larger than its parts.

RECOMMENDED WITH RESERVATIONS

Rock of Ages by Timothy Hallinan

Published by ‎ Soho Crime on June 14, 2022

Irwin Dressler is a big deal crime boss, but he’s getting old and younger lions are always looking for a chance to displace the leader. Dressler financed a tour of aging rock bands, a “mega tour of minor talent.” Four “old guys” drawn from the ranks of criminals who infiltrated the music world long ago (“killers, extortionists, leg-breakers, kidnappers, armed robbers, and threat specialists”) are enjoying the fun of touring with the bands, but Dressler thinks they are also skimming profits, if not outright stealing bags of money. He asks Junior Bender to investigate. Junior isn’t in a position to say no to Dressler. Nobody says no to Dressler.

Fans of the series will know that Bender is a divorced burglar who has been trying to keep the truth of his occupation from his teenage daughter. Keeping information from teenage girls is a lost cause, as Bender discovers when he brings Rina to the concert whose promoters he is investigating.

Rock of Ages isn’t a typical Junior Bender novel. Bender commits no burglaries, but he uses his criminal skills in a variety of ways. Early in the novel, a heavy backdrop falls, putting an end to an annoying long drum solo — and the drummer. Bender notes that the ropes holding the backdrop in place had been cut and suspects that the drummer was not the intended victim. For that reason, Rock of Ages has some elements of a whodunit, with Bender playing the role of a detective. Bender spends much of the novel sneaking around (a task that makes use of his burglary skills) to figure out what’s likely to happen to the tour profits and who orchestrated the backdrop’s fall.

Timothy Hallinan establishes a convincing atmosphere with the sights, sounds, and smells of an older theater. This is a relatively nonviolent crime novel, with just enough gunplay and torture to remind the reader that it is a crime novel, but not so much that violence becomes the point of the story. Bender’s uncertainty about the degree to which he should reveal his life to his daughter exemplifies the characterization that is one of Hallinan’s strengths. Populating novels with colorful background characters is another. The aging rock musicians display the different traits that should be expected of rock musicians (vanity, jealousy, addiction). The best collateral character is an aging groupie who instantly bonds with Rina.

Hallinan describes a man as being in “his carnivorous middle-fifties and as thin as an abandoned hope.” Hallinan’s ability to drop a few incredible sentences into his books is one of the reasons I look forward to his novels. While Rock of Ages is not my favorite Junior Bender novel — the plot is secondary to the amusing characters — I appreciated the novel for other reasons, including its memorable images of aging rock bands playing in small venues at the end of their careers.

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