Sarah Weinman

Your guide to nail-biting summer reads

Killer zombies, Middle Eastern murder, political intrigue: Seven smart and suspenseful books for your beach season

(Credit: Charles Plante)

Summer’s arrived, and that means you’re probably getting ready to pack some choice crime fiction and thriller offerings into your bag or onto your e-reading device for that long-haul flight or scorching stay on the beach. But why not venture beyond the big names — like Stieg Larsson, Janet Evanovich and Lee Childs — this season, with some nail-biting books by underrated or emerging writers?

Here are seven great smart and thoroughly entertaining crime novels and thrillers to consider for your seasonal-reading pleasure. They’ll transport you to exotic locations, help you travel back in history — and, most important, take you far, far away from your days of multitasking at the office.

“A Fierce Radiance” by Lauren Belfer (June 8)

Nearly a decade has passed since Belfer made her literary thriller mark with “City of Light,” a meaty historical mystery set in turn-of-20th-century Niagara Falls. “A Fierce Radiance” is similarly bursting with period detail, moving from tony Fifth Avenue townhouses to Greenwich Village cobblestones to late-night laboratory sessions at the Rockefeller Institute in World War II-era New York City. Belfer’s focus this time is penicillin. The wonder drug came too late for Life photographer Claire Shipley’s long-dead daughter but could be the springboard that will allow her love interest, James Stanton, to graduate from local experiments to leader of secret government projects. Their romance develops against the backdrop of a war that puts the United States on shaky ground, at least until the country recognizes the usefulness of medicine growing from green mold. “A Fierce Radiance” is a feast of storytelling wonders, mixing corporate greed, murder, espionage, fraying family ties and irresistible descriptions of old New York (not to mention a deliciously catty walk-on by playwright and congresswoman Clare Booth Luce) in a morality tale about one drug’s power to save lives — and how ordinary humans aren’t necessarily equal to that daunting task.

“Ice Cold” by Tess Gerritsen (June 29)

At first it seems counterintuitive to read a thriller set in the thick of a snowstorm in the middle of nowhere during the summer, but what better way to create the illusion of escapism than to reverse weather course? The publication timing of Gerritsen’s newest novel featuring Boston cop Jane Rizzoli and her friend (and city medical examiner) Maura Isles has more to do with the July 12 premiere of the TNT show (starring Angie Harmon as Rizzoli and Sasha Alexander as Isles), but “Ice Cold” works well as a series introduction. The normally staid, buttoned-up Isles — nursing romantic difficulties with her boyfriend, who also happens to be a priest — indulges in an impulse wilderness trip with an old high school acquaintance while playing hooky from a medical conference. The snow accumulates, stranding Isles & co., but Gerritsen has several more tricks up her sleeve, raising the suspense stakes with a secretive cult, home-brew surgery under the most appalling circumstances, and the possibility that Isles might not make it home. Gerritsen paces “Ice Cold” with surgical precision but doesn’t neglect her main characters, even if Rizzoli’s trademark fire doesn’t kick in until the second half of the book.

“Inside Out” by Barry Eisler (June 29)

Eisler’s newest thriller probably doesn’t qualify as escapist reading per se, not with a storyline revolving around missing torture tapes and a closing speech on corporatocracy that, frankly, comes off as a downer. But that’s the point of “Inside Out” (also made in Michael Gruber’s “The Good Son”): American politics, as relayed by the media, can only convey part of the story, and comes at the mercy of the agendas of competing government agencies, judicious leaks and public relations games. None of this is new (especially for readers of War Room or Glenn Greenwald), but Eisler, thankfully, packages them into a superior example of fast-moving entertainment.

Enter Ben Treven, the private security operative tasked with finding the missing torture tapes (all 92 of them, or perhaps even more) and prying them from the hands of a long-rogue colleague in secret tradecraft with a serious ax to grind against his superiors, and some serious secrets he himself needs to protect. Treven’s task is ordered by a man who nearly had him killed. He’s partnered with an FBI agent whose chain of command is hardly clean-cut, and as the chase continues, Eisler’s mission becomes a search for uncorrupted American idealism.

“Think of a Number” by John Verdon (July 6)

Puzzle mysteries and John Dickson Carr, master of the locked-room novel, are hardly read nowadays. My pet theory about both is that sustaining an “impossible crime” (where explanations only make the murder look less solvable) is bloody difficult, so writers shy away when there are other, pressing matters like developing unforgettable characters and raising the stakes with each chapter. That’s why John Verdon’s debut novel — which, at first, fixates on retired NYPD detective Dave Gurney’s adjustment to civilian life (and a more intimate rapport with his understanding but impatient wife, Madeline) before things get hairy — stands out: He’s brought back crimes of impossibility, starting with the titular parlor game trifle and escalating until we’re deep into serial murder territory. Verdon is a master at controlling pace, illustrating the story of a rich but complicated marriage, pondering what it means to be sucked back into your life’s work even if it might kill you, and demanding that the reader use his or her brain to figure out what comes next. When you’re finished, you may not trust silly parlor games ever again.

“Beautiful Malice” by Rebecca James (July 13)

Everyone knows a girl like Alice Parrie. Pretty, popular, much sought-after, touched by glamour, and the more time you spend with her, the more that dull ache in the back of your head throbs as you realize something is just a little bit wrong with her. (Zooey Deschanel played this to perfection in last year’s “500 Days of Summer.”) But Katherine Patterson, new in town and trying to shake off a family tragedy she feels responsible for, doesn’t notice the wrongness of Alice’s attention at first. She has a new best friend, someone to trust and to share confidences with. So what if Alice treats her sort-of boyfriend, Robbie, with utter contempt? So what if Alice’s world orbits only around Alice and anyone who steals that spotlight, however accidentally, will suffer as a result? With surgical precision, Australian author James draws us into the close-knit bosom of the teenage girls’ developing friendship and with equal skill, fillets it to the bone. We know Katherine will survive, but the cost she bears for trusting the wrong person provokes years-long repercussions — and signals the beginning of what should be a splendid career in suspense for Rebecca James.

“The Reapers Are the Angels” by Alden Bell (Aug. 3)

So you’ve read every last page of “The Passage,” Justin Cronin’s epic dystopian vampire tale, and need a horror fix to help you get through the wait for the sequel. May I present Alden Bell’s gorgeously written and bloody tale, which mutates from a zombie story into something of beauty and meaning. Temple was born into a cruel world filled with the living dead, and wanders, looking for a place to rest and to stay safe. The frontier Bell describes in lush detail is one of perpetual danger — and where flesh-eating beasts might be the least of Temple’s problems and pursuers. Bell (a pseudonym for Josh Gaylord, author of the Manhattan prep school novel “Hummingbirds”) clearly owes great literary debt to Cormac McCarthy’s “The Road” and the Southern Gothic school of Faulkner and O’Connor, but “The Reapers Are the Angels” shows the reader that they need not settle for mere blood ‘n’ guts when horror tales can, and should, go many extra miles.

“City of Veils” by Zoë Ferraris (Aug. 9)

Finally, here’s an exemplary pick from the “crime fiction introduces new worlds” front. Ferraris’ 2008 first novel, “Finding Nouf,” opened a window for Western readers into Saudi Arabia: a country modernized by technology and science but nowhere near so with respect to the treatment of women. That theme gets explored in more detail in “City of Veils” when the murder victim in question, a woman named Leila, turns out to be a documentary filmmaker exploring the secret desires and lives of young women. The investigation, conducted by a cop experiencing difficult marital troubles, also intersects with an American woman’s struggle to stave off loneliness while her husband further embraces Saudi Arabian (and male-centric) mores. In a parallel struggle, Katya — one of a handful of female forensic scientists in the Middle Eastern country — asserts herself professionally while remaining marriage material for the right sort of husband. Tension is everywhere as Ferraris builds suspense from both domestic concerns or the grievous crime. As she describes it, Saudi Arabia isn’t necessarily a country worth visiting, but, as her book makes clear, it’s absolutely vital that Americans learn more about its people and their thoughts about the outside world.

Crime fiction’s comic book makeover

A new line of graphic novels brings together two literary worlds that have a lot in common

Sarah Weinman, Barnes & Noble Review

Last summer DC Comics’ graphic novel division Vertigo launched a new imprint that, from the standpoint of many people, was a long time in coming. For years a number of crime writers had gravitated towards the comics realm, from Charlie Huston’s run with Moon Knight, Greg Rucka’s take on “Batman” (expanded into a novel titled “Batman: No Man’s Land”), and Duane Swierczynski’s interpretations of superhero sidemen “Cable” and the “Immortal Iron Fist.”

But there have also been signs of crime writers making dramatic use of comics fomats — with no capes in sight: Hannah Berry’s masterful “Britten and Brulightly,” her homage and tweaking of classic detective fiction, Darwyn Cooke’s excellent adaptation of Richard Stark’s “The Hunter,” and “West Coast Blues,” Jacques Tardi’s slimmed down and speeded up adaptation of Jean-Patrick Manchette’s “3 to Kill.”

Barnes & Noble Review“Dark Entries” dropped John “Hellblazer” Constantine into the emotional quagmire that is a reality show (and illustrated, via Werther Dell’Edera’s broad-brushstroke artwork, the torments awaiting the contestants) and Brian Azzarello and Victor Santos’s “Filthy Rich” mined Nixon-era exploitation films for its caustic look at fast-fermenting celebrity culture. Both books, however, traveled the common road paved by the ethos of noir fiction, where a decent ending is one where the protagonist doesn’t end up in hell. To drive the retro-pulp point home, these and future Vertigo titles deployed a black-and-white color scheme, emphasizing contrast over nuance, overt violence over psychological subtlety.

Having set its tonal template, Vertigo Crime laid low for a few months before starting in earnest at the beginning of 2010. “The Chill,” by Jason Starr and Mick Bertilorenzi, was both a wise and nervy choice to start the year: Starr’s standalone novels, such as “Hard Feelings” and “The Follower,” sustain a mood not unlike the perpetual unscratchable itch on one’s back, and go Highsmith-level deep into the sociopathic mind. When he partners with Irishman Ken Bruen, the collaborative efforts (“Bust,” “Slide,” “The Max”) result in gleeful, over-the-top comedy. It’s that hybrid voice that seeps into “The Chill,” a tale of vicious serial murder in contemporary Manhattan that has its roots in a centuries-old Celtic myth of corrupted feminine power and the transmogrification of sex into death. Starr clearly has fun playing with old-world paranormal storytelling, as does Bertilorenzi with his lurid, Tarantino-esque illustrations of those who kill and are killed.

Oddly, the anti-heroes of both The Chill” and veteran comics writer Peter Milligan’s “The Bronx Kill” share a first name, though their occupations and plights couldn’t be any more different. Starr’s Martin Cleary is an Irish émigré, a Boston police detective, ensnared in the old-new culture clash because his lost love, Arlana, is embroiled in the escalating crimes. Martin Keane, on the other hand, had no desire to be a cop and emulate his garrulous, hard-drinking old man. Instead he writes, with one successful novel under his belt and a less successful one in the works, happy in a marriage that keeps the dark past at bay. At least until his wife disappears and Martin’s the prime suspect, and that past resurfaces, in the form of some nasty family secrets, way up in a desolate, abandoned area — the “kill,” from a Dutch word for stream — in New York’s uppermost borough.

Though the story isn’t uplifted by James Romberger’s illustrations — more serviceable than artistic — Milligan more than makes up by mixing in excerpts from Martin’s manuscript, its fragments furthering the story of what happened to Martin’s wife. He also saves the best line for the homeless man who haunts the garbage-filled Kill, setting Martin straight on the ultimate source of the place’s violence: “it’s people that makes people crazy.”

That sentiment could easily apply to “Area 10,” Christos Gage’s work of neurological suspense, which takes self-mutilation to an extreme both natural and horrifying. Ancient cultures considered trepanation — drilling a hole through the skull — to be a pain reliever, a stress inducer, and in some instances, a way to see beyond time. Such ideas are thoroughly discredited today, but for NYPD detective Adam Kamen, this form of pseudoscience feels eerily familiar, as his own brain injury in the line of duty happened in similar fashion, and unexplained time perceptions have further ill-explained connections to — wait for it — another series of gory murders (in the land of Vertigo Crime, Manhattan is crawling with grisly killers content with ever-more-pornographic methods of murder. Call it an occupational hazard of the comic book world.)

The narrative is fairly standard — to the point where the beautiful resident shrink, of course, sleeps with Kamen — but pulls off the mind-bending trick of making you believe long-discredited theories might still have some truth to them. Area 10′s main star, though, is the gore (rendered in appropriately gut-churning detail by Chris Samnee’s stark artwork). And that seems fitting: if you’re going to dive into another realm, shouldn’t it take drastic, blood-drenched measures?

Yet none of these graphic novels is Vertigo Crime’s darkest. That honor goes to “The Executor,” Canadian thriller writer Jon Evans and Italian artist Andrea Mutti’s doom-drenched account of a former NHL hockey bruiser who returns to his upstate New York hometown at the posthumous behest of his former girlfriend. Avid genre readers will know how this story will go, because revisiting the past also means unearthing ugly skeletons, but the storyline Evans concocts travels all the way down to Inferno’s ninth circle, with side trips into attitudes about Aboriginal culture and the downside of running drugs. Mutti’s illustrations also keep the ever-increasing horror show just on the side of reality, such that the bruiser’s final acknowledgement of wrongs that can never be righted smack with the force of a cleanly hit puck.

My one criticism of Vertigo Crime to date is that it’s been a boys’ club, reveling in violence that, while entertainingly lurid, lacks depth. Of course, the comics world is deliberately double-dimensional, and shouldn’t apologize for being so. But I can’t help but look forward to a planned entry from two sharp-witted female purveyours of contemporary noir, Edgar Award winner Megan Abbott and Edgar nominee Alison Gaylin. Between the two of them their novels run the gamut from Dreiser-like tragedy (“Bury Me Deep”) to celebrity-obsession satire (“Trashed”).  Their joint graphic effort — like Christa Faust’s “Money Shot,” the only Hard Case Crime novel to date by a woman — should mine some very interesting sociological territory as part of its quest to give the reader some Black Mask-like fun.

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