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Thrill me Twice

By JEAN HELLER and COLETTE BANCROFT
Published May 15, 2005

THE CLOSERS

By Michael Connelly

Little Brown, $26.95, 400 pp

Reviewed by JEAN HELLER

and

BANGKOK TATTOO

By John Burdett

Knopf, $24, 302 pp

Reviewed by COLETTE BANCROFT

The last few times Michael Connelly took us for a ride with Harry Bosch, Harry was out on his own, retired and estranged from the Los Angeles Police Department, an organization he considered corrupt and untrustworthy. Just as the real-life LAPD got new direction from a new chief, so did Harry Bosch's LAPD. So when Harry's old partner, Kizmin Rider, supports his return to work, he goes back willingly. And frankly, for readers, it is a relief.

Harry was good on his own, working as a private investigator from a box of old cases that still needed solving. But he wasn't great. In The Closers, he is right up there again, assigned to a cold case division that gives him a chance to do what he does best, finding justice for those whose cases have been lost to time and an imperfect justice system. And he has official sanction again, which cuts through a lot of the bureaucracy that cluttered up the PI stories.

The first case Harry and Kiz catch is the unsolved murder of 16-year-old Rebecca Verloren, who was taken from her bed, stunned with a Taser-like instrument and shot to death on a steep hillside behind her home in 1988. The killer tried to make the murder appear to be a suicide, but the police officers who handled the original investigation saw through that quickly.

It was the only thing they saw through. After that, as we come to learn, everything about the investigation either was botched or sent spinning off course by departmental politics. Initial thoughts that the killing might be racially motivated - Rebecca's mother was white and her father African-American - were dismissed by the department despite Becky's father's insistence that his daughter was killed because she was of mixed race.

Now there is DNA evidence that was of no use back in 1988, and it ties some skin tissue found inside the gun to an ex-con racist named Roland Mackey, who belonged to a gang known as the 88s. It's an interesting name. H is the eighth letter of the alphabet, so 88 translates to HH or, Heil Hitler!

But the DNA only ties Mackey to the gun, not to the killing. If Harry and Kiz are going to make the case against Mackey, they must find a way to link Mackey to Becky Verloren, and therein lies the need for police work.

Along the way, Bosch encounters the echoes of old police corruption and coverup, missing evidence, investigative measures not taken and a vindictive cop who was pushed aside by the new police chief. This cop, in his final days at the department, is determined to take Bosch down and with him the new chief responsible for Bosch's return.

There are some terrific characters in the story. Becky Verloren's father, Robert, saw his life drop into the sewer after his daughter's death and has struggled for years to get out. Becky's mother has left the dead girl's room just as it was on the day she died, sealed off from the rest of the house. It is in that room that Bosch finds the clue that breaks the case open.

Harry Bosch has rediscovered his old stride, and Michael Connelly is to be congratulated for finding a way to return Harry to the place he belongs.

- Jean Heller is the author of the mystery-thrillers Handyman and Maximum Impact (Forge).

BANGKOK TATTOO

By John Burdett

Knopf, $24, 302 pp

Reviewed by COLETTE BANCROFT

Karma has dropped Sonchai Jitpleecheep in one difficult place for a Buddhist.

The goal of Buddhism is freedom from desire for all earthly things, but Sonchai lives in a world that turns on desire. His mother, Nong, and his boss, district police chief Colonel Vikorn, are partners in one of the most thriving brothels in Bangkok.

The Old Man's Club makes a handsome profit, fueled mostly by the nostalgic lust of American veterans of Vietnam, armed these days with Viagra.

But problems do arise. As Nong says to her son in the opening line of Bangkok Tattoo: "Killing customers just isn't good for business."

In this novel, John Burdett returns to the decadent, violent and deliciously funny world he created in his last one, the terrific Bangkok 8.

This time Sonchai's ironic eye is focused on the case of Mitch Turner, a mysterious young American found gruesomely murdered in a hotel room he was sharing with Chanya, the star of Nong's staff.

Chanya, an irresistible "tantric master in a G-string," is willing to sign a confession Sonchai and Vikorn cook up, claiming she killed Turner in self-defense when he assaulted her.

But when Turner's body is examined, it's clear that story won't fly. Not only was he gutted and castrated by a very strong assailant, he is also missing most of the skin on his back, where an intricate tattoo has been carefully flayed off and taken away. A further complication is Turner's employer: the CIA.

Sonchai's pursuit of the truth is linked to his pursuit of Chanya. In Bangkok 8 he lost his male soul mate, his partner Pichai, who still speaks to him in dreams. But Sonchai's desires cross gender lines for the enchanting Chanya - even though her goal is to become a Buddhist nun.

As he digs into the case, Sonchai discovers that solving it depends upon solving the mystery of Chanya as well. Her connection to Turner started long before she met him in Nong's bar, and his death could be tied to the international drug trade, or to the Islamic jihadists he was pursuing in southern Thailand, or to his obsessive affair with Chanya, or perhaps to other, far stranger desires.

Turner's missing tattoo, and a tattooed dolphin that arcs over Chanya's left breast, lead Sonchai through a plot as intricate and beautifully crafted as the finest inkwork.

The story's marvelous and grisly surprises are part of its charm, but Sonchai himself is the greater part.

With his keen eye, his poet's lyricism (Chanya's "long hair shining like a fresh black brushstroke on the white pillow"), his reality-smudged impulse to be a knight in shining armor and his sly wit, he's what Raymond Chandler's Los Angeles private eye Philip Marlowe might be like if he were reincarnated as a bisexual Thai Buddhist police detective. (The Thai name for Bangkok is Krung Thep, or City of the Angels.)

Sonchai's pursuit of his own identity - a possible visit from his American father, whom he has never met, hovers over this book - complements his pursuit of Chanya's and Turner's.

Burdett, an Englishman who has lived much of his life in Asia, takes us inside a culture very different from our own and treats it always with respect and understanding, even when he is delving into the corruption of its politics.

He made that world so vivid and fascinating in Bangkok 8 that a sequel seemed risky - could he do it again, and create another plot as astounding as the one that drove the first book?

He could, and in Bangkok Tattoo he has.

- Colette Bancroft is a Floridian staff writer.

[Last modified May 13, 2005, 12:24:03]