Death Canyon by David R. Bertsch

Scribner, 384 pages, $26

Jake Trent was a high-powered attorney from the East Coast who gave up his high-powered life to become a fishing guide in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Noelle Klimpton is a park ranger. They are the stars of David R. Bertsch's debut novel.

Over the course of a couple of days, three bodies are discovered, at least two of which seem to be the result of accidents. One died in a snow avalanche. Another was a body discovered by Jake while he was fishing. Noelle had to deal with the third, a man attacked by a bear. Jake, who spent his prior life being suspicious of everyone, thinks that three deaths, no matter how unrelated they may seem, are too much of a coincidence. (Really?)

David R. Bertsch has created a couple of characters with potential, although they are at times a little too self-effacing. Bertsch seems to know his environmental issues. He's at his best when Jake addresses his concerns about what is being done to Jackson Hole. The story is a little rambling and ordinary at times. About two-thirds of the way in, it was like reading a different book -- a little disconcerting.

The Dying Hours by Mark Billingham

Atlantic Monthly Press, 400 pages, $25

Dour, grim, gruesome, intense. That pretty much sums up Mark Billingham's DI Tom Thorne series. The Dying Hours is the 11th in the set and it's a good one.

I haven't read a Billingham book in quite a while. (I think there were pigs involved in the last one I read.) But Billingham does a pretty good job presenting the story thus far, so I happily joined the story arc in progress.

Actually, it's just Inspector Tom Thorne of the South London police force these days, Thorne having been demoted to uniform for shenanigans explained in the last book, Good as Dead. All was not lost at the end of that adventure, because Thorne had gained himself a live-in girlfriend and her 18-month-old baby. That girlfriend, Detective Sergeant Helen Weeks, owes Thorne a lot for the unrelenting stubbornness that saved her life. However, when evidence of Thorne's stubbornness again makes itself apparent in regard to certain recent suicides, Weeks is not immediately supportive. Perhaps that's because Thorne chooses to conceal, lie, and evade first before telling her what's going on. It's the price of having two police officers in one household.

Thorne misses the thrill of being a detective. He misses North London. His exile to South London is okay -- after all it's work he's good at -- but his real mates are still with his old unit. Nevertheless, he puts his best foot forward and is happy enough with Weeks and her son, Alfie.

When Thorne is called to a suicide, several things at the scene don't feel right. "'Oh Christ, are you talking about a 'hunch'?" says a detective with his department, when Thorne brings his uneasiness about the declaration of suicide to his notice. It is a hunch, but it's based on discrepancies that are red flags to someone of Thorne's experience. And, of course, Thorne's instincts are correct. Having been sloughed off by the murder squad, Thorne is determined to prove the suicide, soon to be joined by other suspicious suicides, is bogus. He enlists the help of former detective buddies, who reluctantly agree. A small part of Thorne thinks that if he figures out the solution and catches the killer, this might bring him back into the good graces of the department.

We meet the killer early on, so we know the deaths are the result of murder, not suicide. It's a terrific build-up to find out why the killer is targeting these people and how he gets them to commit suicide. (Actually, I think I saw something vaguely similar on the new Sherlock Holmes series on PBS, with Benedict Cumberbatch, but that doesn't detract from the cleverness and terror in Billingham's story.)

Billingham fleshes out his characters and brings Thorne's old world together with his new one very well. He also serves up spots of wry humor. For instance, when a couple of Thorne's old cronies are gloomily discussing what sorts of trouble they could get into by helping Thorne, one of them says, "In for a penny," and the other finishes, "In for a P45." A P45 is the British version of a pink slip. And just to warn you, Billingham does have the last laugh.

Sandrine's Case by Thomas Cook

Mysterious Press, 352 pages, $24

If you have read any of Thomas Cook's other books, you know to distrust the narrators who tell their stories, because your initial impression will inevitably take a 180-degree turn before the book sees its final pages. Will Sandrine's Case follow this road? Professor Samuel Madison is narrating his tale while on trial for the murder of his wife. He admits his guilt, but whether it is guilt from murdering his wife or guilt over something else will slowly be revealed after a series of exquisite twists. However, it is hard to review a book that reveals itself so slowly, each chapter another peek into an aspect of the case or a veering away from what you thought you knew, without giving something away. So let me start by describing the structure instead.

The chapters are headed by the day of the trial or the day of rest or the witness who is testifying. Sam appears in real time with his grown-up daughter Alexandria, his defense attorney, Morty Salberg ("the smartest Jew lawyer in Coburn County"), and the state's attorney, Harold Singleton. Many of Sam's memories enhance the witnesses' testimony or conversations he has with others.

This is the first thing we learn: Sam is a supercilious little twit. Whether or not he is guilty of his wife's murder, he is certainly guilty of being "one cold fish." Morty says to him, "[I]t's pretty clear that the people in Coburn don't like you very much." And again, Sam becomes aware "quite clearly that I was charged, more than anything, with the crime of being me." His theory is that the regular folk don't like "eggheads" and think professors are subversively instructing impressionable youth. In return, he is dismissive and critical of his fellow teachers, his neighbors, and his daughter. We can only assume that he treated his wife the same way.

Besides being a disagreeable fellow, Sam also has a propensity to accidentally implicate himself with the authorities at every opportunity by confessing or admitting to things before he even is asked about them. It's hard not to shout, You killed her, or alternatively, Shut up! Morty and Alexandria warn him about making "pedantic literary allusions" or bringing up "elitist stuff." (Cook is kind enough not to make obscure literary allusions.)

The rest of this review deals with plot you may not wish to know. If you are stopping here, this is the bottom line: Read the book!

Sandrine and Sam were not always distant with each other. Just before her death Sandrine had brought up returning to Albi, "the little French town that had been the last stop on what she had always called our 'honeymoon trip.'" There are several references to that idyllic trip, the first time Sandrine and Sam realized they belonged together. Sandrine's desire is understandable. She has recently been diagnosed with Lou Gehrig's Disease and probably doesn't have much longer before she will die from it. At first it seems she has committed suicide rather than endure the slide into helplessness, but a lot of small things aren't "normal."

Officer Wendy Hill and Detective Ray Alabrandi collect incriminating indications that Sandrine did not commit suicide. The clues add up, the prosecuting attorney decides to charge Sam, and bam!, there's a trial. Morty keeps reassuring Sam that the case is weak. But with each new chapter, Cook winds another strand of rope around Sam's neck.

Cook has a patented way of bringing out the deep and vulnerable heart of a character. Several times Sam says that what Sandrine loved about him was his kindness and tenderness, qualities about which he no longer cares to show or is incapable of showing. Sandrine, on the other hand, was devoted to her teaching, was well-liked and admired, and still had that vulnerability. It is tenderness and kindness that mark Thomas Cook's novels and it is evident in the beautiful Sandrine's Case as well. 

Multiple Exposure by Ellen Crosby

Scribner, 320 pages, $25

Multiple Exposure is a book whose characters and theme are probably closer to what author Ellen Crosby deals with in her actual life than the books she wrote as part of her popular wine country series. She is a "former freelance reporter for The Washington Post and the Moscow correspondent for ABC Radio News," according to her biography. This book deals with international intrigue and a character who was a photographer for an international press organization. As Sophie Medina says repeatedly, "I've been in war zones."

Americans Sophie Medina and her husband Nicholas Canning were very happy in England, Sophie in the aforesaid photography job and Nicholas as an executive with a British oil company, working in a former Soviet republic. Oh, yes, he is also a CIA agent. Perhaps "was" is the operative word, because Nicholas has disappeared, ostensibly kidnapped from his home, with all signs pointing to his death. Sophie is devastated and ignorant of what has happened to her husband.

A few months after Nick disappears, Sophie sadly moves back to Washington, D.C., an area she knows intimately. She reconnects with old friends and family, including her imperious mother, and gets a job working for a photography agency owned by Luke Santangelo.

Sophie and Luke have been hired to shoot the unveiling of two recently discovered Fabergé eggs at the National Gallery in D.C. The owner is an ultra-rich Russian, Arkady Vasiliev, who dabbles in oil and may dabble in crime as well. The curator is his girlfriend's mother, Katya Gordon. Senator Scott Hamilton and his wife, socialite Roxanne Hathaway, also have a Russian connection. She is a director at the National Gallery, and he has an old college friend, Taras Attar, a Russian author. During the reception, there is open hostility between the Russian ambassador and Senator Hathaway about Hathaway playing host to Attar, a vocal critic of the current Russian government. 

Crosby makes Sophie a likable and believable character. My bête noire is when a character (almost invariably a plucky female character) decides he/she can't trust the authorities and tries to solve the case him/herself. Thankfully, Sophie has the brains to tell her CIA contact and a police detective what she knows, which turns out to be quite a lot. (Then, of course, it's hard not to suspect that her trust may be misplaced.) She is accosted by Vasiliev at the reception. He wants some information that Nick had about drilling in Abadistan, the former Soviet republic. He doesn't believe that Sophie doesn't have it. Then Sophie overhears a Russian and an American talk about what she thinks is a plot to kill Attar. Somewhere in all this may be the answer to why Nick has disappeared and why, she assumes, he is being framed for the deaths of his boss and another CIA agent.

There's a lot of stuff happening in the book, but Crosby moves the action along admirably, thus making the plot more apprehensible. Multiple Exposure is a variation on the woman-in-jeopardy-through-no-fault-of-her-own theme, but Crosby gives it a fresh look. She gives us the bare necessities of photography, the oil business, and the suspected Russian state of affairs, but enough detail to make the story interesting, a fine balancing act overall. This was enjoyable, easy reading.