The Killing Kind by Chris Holm

Mulholland Books, 320 pages, $26 (release date - 9/15/15)

Chris Holm has turned from writing about collectors of souls in his intriguing fantasy/pulp series to this straightforward thriller.

There are hitmen galore in “The Killing Kind.” First is the original hitman hired to do what hitmen do. Then there is the hitman hired by the potential victim to protect him against his potential killer. Then there is the hitman who is hired to find the hitman who is hitting hitmen. Clear?

Michael Hendricks makes his living, although he has been officially declared dead, by convincing people that they are about to be whacked and wouldn’t it be worth their while to hire him to kill the hitman? Alexander Engelmann is an elegant, sadistic, European psychopath who is hired by The Mob to find the man who is killing some of their most effective hired guns. Special Agent Charlotte “Charlie” Thompson is the FBI agent who is no longer thought to be crazy for believing that there is a hitman hitting hitmen. Without knowing exactly who Michael is, she calls him her “ghost.” She’s usually a step behind everyone else, but, really, she can’t catch all the killers before the explosive denouement, can she?

“The Killing Kind” adheres to the thriller scenario pretty well, and the hitman hitting hitmen schtick is clever. For better or worse there’s nothing too deep to slow the story down and nothing to stop you from enjoying this read either.

Those We Left Behind by Stuart Neville

Soho Crime, 368 pages, $27.95 (release date - 9/22/15)

Stuart Neville’s bleak, uncompromising, noirish view of Northern Ireland is unsettling and difficult to read sometimes. There is no doubt that Neville is a powerful writer. His DI Jack Lennon series is exceptional and laudable. His standalone, “Ratlines,” was an eyeopener. I had to read “Those We Left Behind” in small sections because it was emotionally so raw. Everyone has a disability, an issue, a hole in their souls.

DCI Serena Flanagan has just returned to duty after attending to a personal issue. She is out of step with the rest of the force and is driven even further afield when an old case steps to the forefront. Ciaran and Thomas Devine were foster children when Ciaran confessed to killing their foster father. Flanagan always thought Thomas had actually committed the murder and forced his younger sibling to take the blame.

Paula Cunningham is the probation officer assigned to Ciaran, and her sympathies, too, lie with him. He is now nineteen and just released from institutional care. It is her job to see that Ciaran fits into a society he only remembers through a childhood haze. He certainly is not capable of carrying on as an adult. Judged merely an accessory to the crime, his brother Thomas has been out for a couple of years. All they have to do is stay out of trouble and they are home free.

Easier said than done.

Daniel Rolston, the son of the murdered foster father, has had his life destroyed by the Devine brothers. His mother committed suicide shortly after the murder. When Ciaran is released, Daniel’s life goes into a tailspin. He becomes a stalker and not just of the Devines.

To her occupational detriment, Flanagan wants Ciaran to admit to Thomas’ guilt. To her occupational detriment, Cunningham wants to protect Ciaran from his brother.

The stage is set for lots of tragedy. It’s just a question of how many dead bodies will result, how many tattered professions will be left hanging in the wind, and how bloody it all will be.

The Girl in the Spider’s Web by David Lagercrantz

Knopf, 416 pages, $27.95, translated by George Goulding

Wow! “Wow” for how much I enjoyed “The Girl in the Spider’s Web.” “Wow” for what a tough row Swedish author David Lagercrantz had to hoe. “Wow” for cui bono: The continuation of the popular, thrilling, and provocative Millennium series props up the piggy banks of the estranged father and brother rather than Stieg Larsson’s long-term life-partner. And, lastly, “wow” for what Larsson’s projected plan for his characters must have been and how little we will ever know of that plan.

Part of the attraction of Larsson’s series was his naivety and his passion. He had never written a novel before, and it showed in the huge, honking section of the first book devoted to polemic and lecturing. But Larsson used his avatar, Mikael Blomqvist, and the enigmatic Lisbeth Salander to give voice to his real social and political concerns, and hit a literary and human nerve. The adrenaline-spiking scenes and the surprisingly clever revenge scenarios Larsson crafted were genius. He not only thought outside the box, he had the gall to say, “What box?”

David Lagercrantz captures the essence of Blomqvist and Salander, recapitulates Larsson’s central social concerns, tightens the writing, creates new compelling characters, but doesn’t quite deliver on the surprise and portrayal of exquisite revenge. But he comes close enough. Larsson evoked, "Oh, no, he didn’t; where’s the next book?” at the end of his books, whereas Lagercrantz evokes, “That was well done.” A compulsion created versus a satisfaction met.

At the beginning of “Spider’s Web,” it has been awhile since Blomqvist and Salander have had contact with each other. The fortunes of "Millennium" magazine, the heart of Blomqvist’s passion, are on the wane. The board of the magazine must make a deal with the devil to survive, unless Blomqvist can pull a big, issue-selling story out of thin air. Also a hacker has broken into the supposedly unbreakable NSA computer system in the U.S. Hmmmmm.

The underlying theme of “Spider’s Web” rides on the backs of the Julian Assange and Edward Snowden classified information stories. What should be ultra secure government organizations are actually leaky ships. (And should those organizations have the right to so much information anyway?) In the dark world of the Darknet lurk extraordinary hackers and they may have discovered damning evidence of a conspiracy to privately make money from government-held secrets. When Frans Balder, a computer and mathematical genius who is working on artifical intelligence, is murdered, his autistic son, August, may be the only witness. Are August and other computer geniuses at risk?

In separate storylines, we see Blomqvist and Salander facing these issues. Their “relationship” is fraught with past tensions and misunderstandings, but bonded by unacknowledged tender feelings and implicit trust. They must rely on each other (but not in person) to solve what becomes intertwined problems. Lagercrantz brings Blomqvist and Salander back to life with respect and a good eye for who they are. He also vividly creates or fleshes out some unusual characters like the odious but brilliant Ed Needham of the NSA and a wonderfully surprising guest from Salander’s past.

Finally, I can’t imagine Larsson writing this sentence: “Pensively he brushed his teeth and undressed and climbed into bed.” It is at once mundane and authentic. It felt as if Larsson always had an issue or deep thought to put forward, but Lagercrantz affords the time to set the stage. In this way, Lagercrantz moves forward both the action and the attending humanity. But Larsson’s originality and zing are ever so slightly missed.

The Lake House by Kate Morton

Atria Books, 512 pages, $28 (release date - 10/20/15)

The gothic novel never really died, but if it had, Kate Morton would single-handedly be responsible for its resurrection. In “The Lake House,” there are tragic heroes and heroines, an old mansion, wickedness, and secrets that go boo! in the night. There are also a couple of intertwining story lines, one contemporary (2003) and the other hidden in the 1930s and 40s.

The contemporary heroine, Sadie Sparrow, has been “ten years on the police force, five as a detective” in London, and she’s in trouble. Teased out in bits to the end of the book is why Sadie is “vacationing” at her grandfather’s home in Cornwall. Initially, we find out that Sadie has talked with a reporter about a case, leaking details condemnatory of the police actions.

To while away the time and avoid thinking about how much trouble she is in, she runs with her grandfather’s dogs. They stumble across a crumbling estate, with a mansion worthy of a true gothic tale. Curious about why the interior of the mansion seems intact, with personal effects still scattered as if the occupants had meant to return in a minute, Sadie investigates what turns out to be the sad story behind the estate of Loeanneth, Cornish for “The Lake House.”

In 1933, the youngest child of a well-to-do family, 11-month-old Theo, disappears on Midsummers Eve. A few days later the body of a family friend and treasured house guest is found in the river. Disconsolate and grieving, the family moves to London, leaving Loeanneth to crumble into its surroundings.

In 2003, eighty-six-year-old Alice Edevane and her older sister, Deborah, are what remain of the household at the time of the disappearance. Alice is now a famous writer of detective novels: “Alice’s books were English mysteries, but there was nothing cosy about them. They were the sort of crime novels reviewers liked to describe as ‘psychologically taut’ and ‘morally ambiguous’, whydunits as much as they were whos or hows.” (Personally, I envisioned Ruth Rendell.) She harbors a secret concerning the night her brother disappeared. Most of the book is the slow unveiling of what she and others in her family knew of that night.

Sadie doggedly pursues, unofficially, this case that ended with no conclusion or suspects. Had Theo been kidnapped? There was no ransom note. Had he been murdered? A body was never found. There were too many people on the grounds of Loeanneth to be of any help in narrowing down suspects. Was Daffyd Llewellyn, the unfortunate man who died the same night, involved?

There are many possibilities and Morton throws them all up in the air, along with the story of Sadie’s personal travails with the police and her life. So many people have voices in this book that it felt too crowded at times. Since much was revealed in other ways, some of the characters could have done without personal surveillance. There are stories set during World Wars I and II, and while nothing new was revealed, Morton did a good, atmospheric job of incorporating the horrors of war. (Just an aside for you to ponder after you finish the book: Was the name "Sophie" chosen for a character on purpose or was there a subconscious agent working?)

In the end, “The Lake House” is a novel more of romance than mystery. Morton is a great storyteller and can sweep a family epic convincingly. And speaking of sweeping, thank goodness, I say, for a tidy ending!