Zoo Station, by David Downing ($14)(c2007)

In 1939 Berlin, World War II has not yet begun, but Europe is on the edge of madness. Hitler and his Nazis are terrorizing the Jews and other "imperfect" groups. Their influence is felt not just in Germany but also in Poland and Czechoslovakia. It is almost January 1, 1939, and Hitler has been in power for about five years when the book opens. Within a few months, Germany will invade Poland, and Great Britain will begin its war with Germany. Kristallnacht, the destruction of Jewish homes and businesses, the beating of Jewish people, the theft of Jewish property, is only a couple of months old. It is into this setting that David Downing places his protagonist, British journalist John Russell.

Russell will not leave Berlin, although he easily could. In better times, he met and married Ilsa, a German woman, and they have a son, Paul. Russell is determined to stay in Paul's life, although he and Ilsa have divorced. Russell's girlfriend, actress Effi Koenen, is another anchor to Berlin.

Russell does mostly freelance work for various publications, so it is not unusual for him to be approached by an organization that wishes to hire his writing skills. However, it is the Russians who want a series of articles, for which they will pay well. Although his impecunious existence is a burden, Russell hesitates, but then he acquiesces, not without stipulations. He will most emphatically not be a spy for them. He will not be a spy for Great Britain or the U.S. either. Germany? Nein. It would be a less interesting book if eventually Russell didn't find himself tossed about by all these secretive forces.

Jews line up daily at the British embassy, and the line stretches further each day. As a way to supplement his income, Russell teaches Germans to speak English. As a result of a reference from a friend, he teaches the daughters of a Jewish family and gets to know the family well. They are trying desperately to emigrate, but before they can get anywhere, the father, a doctor, is accused of a crime. The 18-year-old son is on the run. The daughters and the mother cannot get visas. Russell could simply shake his head, sympathize, and go on with his work. Times are tough for everyone. Despite the danger to himself, however, Russell knows he cannot avoid the inevitable. His conscience says that he must do what he can to save this family, save himself, avenge the mysterious death of a colleague, and try to stay in Berlin with Paul and Effi.

It's a tall order.

David Downing describes a complex situation with clarity and without over-explaining the mutable geography and politics of the time. The story does not lose pacing as it focuses on the many groups affected by Hitler's march to war. Sometimes with just a single sentence, Downing can capture the essence of an issue. His smart and ironic observations are thought-provoking and entertaining. For instance:

"The film had been made on the sort of budget which would feed a small country, but was mercifully devoid of consciousness-raising pretensions. The consciousness-lowering effect was presumably accidental."

Downing has written three more books, all named after train/subway stations. In fact, the important Zoo Station stop in Berlin represents the turning point in the journeys of Russell and others.

Crooked Letter, Crooked Letter, by Tom Franklin ($14.99)

Here is a mystery, birthed in the languid, humid cauldron of the South, and set free by quick and sensitive writing. Tom Franklin was nominated for an Edgar award for this book, and it says something about the excellent competition this past year that Franklin did not win. (The winner was The Lock Artist, an excellent novel by Steve Hamilton, also awarded an MBTB star!)

"Crooked letter, crooked letter" is part of the chant that children use to learn how to spell Mississippi. It is to Chabot, a small Mississippi town, that Silas "32" (for his high school baseball team number) Jones returns after wandering the world and trying to escape his impoverished Southern roots. He is now the constable of that tiny company town. The owner of the mill that supports the town and pays 32's salary is bereft because his daughter is missing. This eerily mirrors a crime committed years ago when 32 and his friend Larry Ott were 17. Larry was the prime suspect in the disappearance of a classmate, his neighbor Cindy Walker. A body was never found, so Larry was never charged. Now Larry and 32 are both 41 years old, and Larry has been living a hermit's life, shunned by the community, but tied to it nevertheless because of his incapacitated mother. Even before Cindy disappeared, Larry and 32's friendship had begun to fracture, fostered in part by Larry's cold and callous father and Larry's overly protective mother. It also didn't help that 32 is black and Larry is white. Perhaps we like to think that such things don't matter anymore, but Franklin is here to tell us differently.

Despite Larry's attempts to contact him after his return, 32 is reluctant to communicate with Larry. It turns out that it isn't just because he's a constable and Larry is once again a suspect in a disappearance and presumed murder. In a style reminiscent of another fine writer of Southern-inflected mysteries, Thomas L. Cook, Franklin slowly reveals Larry and 32's true story. Franklin's pace is a little swifter than Cook's; where Cook is molasses, Franklin is maple syrup.

Is this where I admit that about halfway through the book, I skimmed the ending? I felt it enhanced my reading of the rest of the book, but I certainly wouldn't recommend this approach. What it did give me was a respect for the way Franklin led his story to its conclusion.

For Franklin's intriguing main characters, his spot-on side characters, and heart-breaking story, I have awarded this book an MBTB star!

Truth, by Peter Temple ($16)(c2009)

This is the third Peter Temple book I've read. I gave the other two stars (for books I really, really like). This one doesn't get a star. I didn't even understand it half the time. And I'm not just talking about the Australianese.

The main character here is Stephen Villani, head of the homicide department somewhere in Australia, but it's really an ensemble piece, and that is part of the problem. There are millions of characters. One of them is Joe Cashin, hero of The Broken Shore, and another is Jack Irish, who stars in a bunch of books that haven't made it to the U.S. yet. But they play very tiny parts, cameos really. There are Bikerts, Dove, Finucane, Singleton (or Singo), Kiely, Lizzie, Webber, Gillam, Colby, Anna, Bob, Corin, Laurie, Luke, Mack, Orong, Barry, and those are just the police and family members. This doesn't even touch on the people involved in the two main cases of which Villani takes control. Either Temple assumes you've read his other books and his characters need no introduction, or it's a singularly annoying gimmick to just toss his readers into the muddle of people. Ha, ha, ha, he might be saying, sink or swim.

Even though I got the gist of the two cases -- a young woman is found naked and dead in the bathroom of an upscale condominium, and two gangsters are found tortured and dead -- it was a convoluted path through potential political and police malfeasance to solve them both. In his equally convoluted personal life, Stephen is having a rocky time with his wife, one of his daughters runs away, his farmer father refuses to leave his holding when a massive fire threatens it, and his reporter girlfriend is the the worst-kept secret around. Is it all worth the agita, both for him and for us?

Temple has a way with words, and it's still true in Truth. However, sometimes he seems to shake them up in a bucket, pluck a few out and throw them away for the challenge, and then plop what's left on the page. He was clearest and most moving when telling about Stephen's family, especially in stories of his father's stubbornness in the midst of his plight and his guilt over his daughter Lizzie.

I wish I had time to re-read this book. Having come through it once, I now know who (most of) the characters are. I do so want to enjoy it.

County Line, by Bill Cameron ($15.95) (due 6/1/11)

Ruby Jane Whittaker, both as the eccentric coffee shop owner in Portland and especially as a young girl from a crazy family in Ohio, sparkles on the page. Something terrible happened when Ruby Jane was a teenager in a rural community in Ohio. That something terrible has been nipping at her heels all these years, and now it has taken a big bite. That Ruby Jane should have turned into the self-confident business woman in Portland is a miracle. That the past is now haunting her is a deadly burden.

Skin Kadash is a retired cop in Portland. When he allows himself to think about it, he realizes he is in love with Ruby Jane. When she disappears and he finds the dead body of a bum in her bathtub, he heads off to find her. And save her. He knows above all else that he must save her, but he doesn't know from what.

Skin reconnects with Ruby's old boyfriend, Pete, in California, and we're guessing that Pete still has feelings for Ruby. Ruby's estranged brother, Jimmie, lives in San Francisco, not too far from Pete. Perhaps he knows where Ruby is, because Pete doesn't. Soon there's another dead body.

The trail finally leads back to Preble County, Ohio. The first-person, present tense, present time narrative that begins Bill Cameron's book segues into Ruby Jane's tale of when she was a teenager. That third-person narrative splits into several different time frames, all within a year. There are flashbacks within the flashback, but Cameron does a great job drawing us closer to the terrible event that shattered Ruby's family and dispersed its members. The final section of the book brings us back to the present time and Skin's story.

Cameron has written a thriller that makes you want to turn the page faster and faster. He has also written a sensitive story about a young girl from a dysfunctional family who has more troubles than someone her age should have. Cameron's writing easily and poetically handles the transition from Skin's story to Ruby's, from then to now. This is a story that will linger.