Serial killers are a subject of fascination for many Americans, and are often portrayed in media in a way that feeds into that fascination. However, this depiction fails to acknowledge that these murderers, despite being evil, are often unremarkable individuals who are caught due to their own mistakes or remain unidentified due to the mistakes of others. Bearing this in mind, I approached Victoria Kielland’s novel, MY MEN (Astra House, 194 pp., $25), with caution. The book seeks to humanize Belle Gunness, a turn-of-the-century serial killer who slaughtered numerous people on her Midwest homestead before disappearing. Despite my concerns, Kielland successfully creates a portrait of a woman fighting against her own fate. As readers follow her journey, they are given an opportunity to understand what has led Belle Gunness down the path of murder.
Kielland traces Belle’s development throughout her life, from her time as Brynhild Storset, a 17-year-old Norweigan maid who loses her child after the father brutally kicks her in the stomach, to her transformation into Belle, an obsessive and murderous individual. “There was no one who reached out his arms for her and took care of her. And the longest movement of all was neither love nor desire, it was the butterfly wings in the garden, it was death, the eye always trying to make eye contact, the longest eternal flicker,” Kielland writes.
James Wolff’s previous works, “Beside the Syrian Sea” (2018) and “How to Betray Your Country” (2021), the first two installments in his Discipline Files trilogy, were solid but not outstanding. Nevertheless, THE MAN IN THE CORDUROY SUIT (Bitter Lemon Press, 294 pp., paperback, $15.95), the final book of the series, establishes him as an exceptional author in the genre.
Wolff’s latest protagonist, MI5 officer Leonard Flood, is brusque and rude in his interactions with others. “An impressive ability to kneel on the bruise,” remarks one superior about him, while another notes that he is “definitely not a charmer.” However, his larger-than-life personality is well-suited for the investigation he is assigned, which requires him to spy on fellow MI5 members who are suspected of working for the Russians, including a retired operative who may have been poisoned. The book is built around a single complicated question: who is deserving of trust, and where should one’s loyalty lie?
“Some spies are all about warmth, others are a blast of cold Arctic air.” This description suits Wolff’s prose, which is sharp and full of surprises, constantly keeping readers on edge.
Katie Siegel’s debut novel, CHARLOTTE ILLES IS NOT A DETECTIVE (Kensington, 372 pp., paperback, $16.95), is a fun and lighthearted mystery tale. The title is not entirely accurate, however, as the story follows Charlotte Illes, a 25-year-old woman living in suburban New Jersey, who has recently moved back home after numerous failed job applications and unsuccessful dates. Despite previously quitting her role as a detective due to the pressure it brought her as a child, Charlotte is drawn back into the world of mystery-solving when her brother calls her for help in uncovering the identity of his girlfriend’s stalker. Reluctantly, Charlotte agrees to dig for clues, but as the case evolves, an actual dead body emerges and the situation becomes increasingly complex.
Siegel, who initially created Charlotte as a character on TikTok, delivers a delightfully quirky and humorous story. Occasionally, the book’s pacing can be sluggish, but overall, Charlotte is a charming protagonist. When a date compares her to a “mini Sherlock Holmes,” she deadpans, “Yep, just a 10-year-old solving mysteries and doing cocaine.”
Michael McGarrity’s latest novel, THE LONG AGO (Norton, 364 pp., $28.95), is less of a crime novel and more of a family saga that depicts the power of sibling relationships. The book, which is McGarrity’s first work after a trilogy of western novels and the earlier Kevin Kerney series, is a delightful and thrilling read that I heartily recommend.
Ray and Barbara Lansdale are siblings who grew up coping with parental absence, instability, and other challenges by retreating into their shared fantasy world called “the Long Ago.” However, as adults, escaping reality becomes increasingly difficult. In the early 1960s, the Vietnam War is looming, and Ray, who previously had no real purpose, discovers the Army and enlists. Meanwhile, Barbara disappears from their hometown in Montana, and Ray sets out on a quest to locate her the one time he visits home on leave. The quest isn’t simple, given that people who choose to disappear usually want to remain missing entirely. Despite this, Ray perseveres, and the result is a book that is both heartwarming and suspenseful.
