The Truth About the Devlins
by Lisa Scottoline
G.P. Putnam's Sons, March 2024, $29.95

In her latest novel The Truth About the Devlins, Lisa Scottoline introduces a dysfunctional family that really puts the “fun” in “dysfunctional.” Yeah, that sounds pretty cliché, but it fits. Oh, does it fit! This family is really something else and Scottoline explores those deliciously screwed-up family dynamics with gusto.

The Devlins are a prominent family of attorneys in Philadelphia. There’s Paul, the no-nonsense patriarch and head of the powerful law firm Devlin & Devlin, who’s a respected man in the community; there’s Marie, his wife, also an attorney, and peacemaker; there’s John, the eldest son and golden boy who’s very driven and wants to take over the firm once Paul retires; there’s Gabby, a crusading attorney who takes on pro bono cases and is a staunch champion of the downtrodden.

Finally, there’s the black sheep of the family: TJ, the youngest child. TJ is on parole and a recovering alcoholic who can’t get a job anywhere else but at his family’s law firm, where he’s an investigator. Really, a sinecure. Paul makes it clear that he’s ashamed of TJ. John is not shy about lording his success over him, either.

The book begins with John turning to TJ—now two years sober—for help. John confides to TJ that he accidentally killed an accountant named Neil Lemaire, one of Devlin & Devlin’s clients, in self-defense after confronting Neil with proof of embezzlement. The brothers race to the scene of the crime, only to find Neil’s body is gone. It’s discovered later and his death is ruled a suicide.

John wants to let it go and move on like nothing happened. TJ won’t let it go, however. As a result, John throws TJ under the bus, telling the family he’s relapsed and undermining what little credibility TJ has with Paul and the rest of his family. Then the police get involved. Knowing he’s on parole, TJ has no choice but to cooperate.

With his back against the wall, TJ still continues looking into the murder as a way to redeem himself in the eyes of his family, only to discover a hotbed of corruption, kickbacks, and corporate greed that may well spell the end of Devlin & Devlin—if he doesn’t get himself killed first.

Scottoline creates a flawed yet likable protagonist with TJ. He’s a man who knows he’s an alcoholic and and understands he deserved to go to prison, but feels he’s paid his debt to society. In short, he took full responsibility for himself and his actions. Now thrust into an untenable situation, he’s determined to prove himself to his family all the while fighting the urge to relapse.

Part family drama, part legal thriller, Scottoline proves once again why she’s a master of the genre. You’ll burn through this book in no time flat.

I discovered Sara Paretsky's books thanks to my mystery-loving father in law. It was 1982, I was fresh out of college, and they just blew the cobwebs off the genre. Paretsky's strong, feminist, no-nonsense V.I. was an instant role model. When my husband and I opened our bookstore Aunt Agatha's a decade later, Paretsky's books were a guiding light—I wanted a store full of books as wonderful as hers.

Twenty-three books on, V.I. and her creator are still breaking ground in Pay Dirt. This time, V.I. is a fish out of water on "holiday" in Kansas, where she stumbles upon a mystery when a college student named Sabrina goes missing. As V.I. investigates, she soon discovers a story about greed, crime, and racism rooted in centuries-old conflict.

It was a real delight that Ms. Paretsky was kind enough to answer some questions about Pay Dirt as well as about her long and accomplished career, which notably also includes the founding of Sisters in Crime in support of women crime writers and many awards, including a CWA Cartier Diamond Dagger, an Anthony Award, and an MWA Grand Master title for lifetime achievement in her craft.

Robin Agnew for Mystery Scene: Your first book Indemnity Only and Sue Grafton’s "B" is for Burglar came out the same year. When I first read them, I had just graduated from college and both V.I. and Kinsey seemed like feminist blueprints I wanted to emulate. Were you and Grafton aware of each other back then?

Sara Paretsky: Sue and I were writing before the internet and our early books had very small book runs. It wasn’t until our third books—Killing Orders for me and "C" Is for Corpse for Sue—that we learned about each other’s work. After that, we were so linked in the public mind that Sue joked that we’d been twins in a previous life.

I feel like you laid out lots of things in Indemnity Only that you are still writing about today, but especially V.I. herself and her relentlessly intelligent and fearless personality. What have you learned about her though 22 books? Does she still surprise you? I also wonder about any blending of personalities. I know you are a writer, not a working private eye, but what qualities do you and V.I. share? In my mind’s eye she looks like you.

The biggest challenge with a long series written in the first person is to keep her as a distinct personality from my own. In the early books, she was more insouciant, but in more recent books responsibility lies heavy on her shoulders. As for her appearance, it’s fun that you think that she looks like me. My vision of her is that she’s darker because of her mother’s Italian heritage. Chatto & Windus used an Anglo-Italian model for the cover of Burn Marks, which gets her coloring right in my mind. However, this is a model and she is much too thin.

I just finished Pay Dirt and loved seeing V.I out of her element in Kansas. Can you talk about that decision?

It was hard to write about V.I. in Kansas in Pay Dirt. I’d sent her to my hometown in two other books, but there she was just gathering information about Chicago-based crimes. In Pay Dirt, the actual crimes take place in Kansas, and she’s trying to conduct an investigation without any local support. The storyline involves property disputes that date to the Civil War. I thought that it would be easier to sort those out in a small community than in Chicago where tracking 160 years of titles and neighborhood changes and political corruption would have given me a book longer than War and Peace.

All mystery novels are about a problem that must be solved. In Pay Dirt, V.I. has that mystery, but also an added challenge: She’s in a strange town with no connections or people willing to help her uncover leads. Was that a fun challenge for you as a writer?

Yes, as I mention in the previous answer, it was a challenge. I skirted it to some degree with the characters of the two men who run a scrap metal business. They are willing to help out, especially as the crime involves their own livelihood.

You address a social issues in your novels. In this case, the historic reach of racism as it existed then and still exists today. It’s heartbreaking to read about how the world has changed—but not enough. Can you talk about the research for this part of your book?

Pay Dirt was actually inspired by Brent M. S. Campney’s This Is Not Dixie: Racist Violence in Kansas, 1861–1927. I grew up in Lawrence, Kansas, and we were very proud of our abolitionist history. Campney’s book was a reality check. He describes violence perpetrated on African Americans in the decades immediately after the Civil War. It took me eight full drafts of the novel before I had the right storyline, but the story itself was one that I felt impelled to tell.

In your "Afterword" you mention that you cut out some of the historical letters you had originally wanted to include. Was that a hard decision?

That was a very difficult decision. Those Civil War-era characters are very alive in my mind. I have kept all these letters, of course, and hope to use them in another project. The characters in Pay Dirt appear in Bleeding Kansas, which isn’t in the V.I. series. They also play a role in “Trial by Fire” in Love and Other Crimes.

All really good books have a blend of character, setting, and plot. To have one or two without the third makes for a flat read, but you always integrate all three. Where do you start? Do you find an issue you want to include? Do you start with a problem for V.I.?

Thank you for that good opinion. I agree with you, and I struggle to bring all these elements into what I write. Every book starts in a different place. With Pay Dirt, I started with the idea of an historic crime and built the plot and the people around that. In my previous novel, Dead Land, which is also partly set in Kansas, I started with a homeless musician whose singing haunted me.

My book club recently had a long, long discussion about the red wine glasses V.I. has of her mother’s. We felt that established her as a character. How did those glasses pop into your mind?

I can’t remember how those wine glasses came to me. They are a strange legacy to carry while you’re fleeing for your life, as Gabriella had to do. And then, as I read more WWII memoirs, I learned that most refugees had suitcases made of cardboard, and so I spent a lot of time imaging how Gabriella packed them and why they were so important to her. I have my own mental picture of them; I have never found a red wine glass that matched my image and I have searched many places.

The fact that we discussed those wine glasses for so long, means that V.I. is almost a real person to us, with her own background and experiences. That’s an amazing achievement in any kind of writing. I also think a long series allows a writer to create a character that seems very real. (I guess we have Arthur Conan Doyle to thank for that.) What are your thoughts on V.I.’s longevity, as well as the series'?

I can only write about things I care about personally. I’ve occasionally written short stories as head games, but it takes me about 18 months to write a novel. If I don’t care about the problem and the people, there’s nothing to keep me going for the length of the journey. Perhaps my own passion keeps the series fresh.

What book have you read in your life that you feel shaped you as a writer?

That’s a hard question. I’ve read many books that affect how I think about my own life and the larger world, but I’m not sure they’ve influenced me as a writer. For me, writing fiction uses a different part of the mind than I use in responding to other people’s visions. Some of the books that have moved me deeply include: The Last of the Just (André Schwarz-Bart), Wolf Hall (Hilary Mantel), and Gilead (Marilynne Robinson). As a child, my favorite writers were Laura Ingalls Wilder and Louisa May Alcott. I can still quote the opening to Little Women. I also loved Understood Betsy by Dorothy Canfield Fisher. I read this when I was seven and it was my introduction to independent women living their own lives and making their own decisions.

What’s next for V.I.?

V.I. is taking a break. Pay Dirt is so hard on her that I’m sending her to Sardinia for R&R while I write about a different person. What comes next for her could include time in Warsaw to explore her father’s family. It’s possible that she gets involved in a bison rustling scheme.

And finally, do you have a favorite of your books? I’m a big Deadlock fan myself.

Many people, including my beloved friend and mentor, the late Dorothy Salisbury Davis, like Deadlock best. My personal favorite is probably Hard Ball. The crime is set in the summer that I first came to Chicago as a volunteer in the civil rights movement and the characters, ranging from V.I.’s family to Chicago street gang members, came to life for me in a way that I sometimes struggle to achieve.

Robin Agnew is a longtime Mystery Scene contributor and was the owner of Aunt Agatha's bookstore in Ann Arbor, Michigan, for 26 years. No longer a brick and mortar store, Aunt Agatha has an extensive used book collection is available at abebooks.com and the site auntagathas.com is home to more of Robin's writing.

The Djinn's Apple
by Djamila Morani, translated by Sawad Hussain
Neem Tree Press, May 2024

In 803 A.D., Baghdad, it is at the height of the Abbasid Empire, a golden age of literature and medical knowledge. Yet, unrest stirs within the highest ranks of the government. The Baramikas, once among the most influential families, have fallen out of favor with Al-Rashid, the ruler of Baghdad. When a group of men attacks her family’s home, 12-year-old Nardeen Baramika is the sole survivor. At first, she assumes the massacre is related to family's loss of status, but she soon discovers the attackers were looking for a mysterious manuscript that belonged to her father, a renowned doctor.

Nardeen is saved from being sold into slavery by doctor Muallim Ishaq, a colleague of her father’s who take her under his wing. She becomes Ishaq’s student, learning more about medicine as she trains in the hospital than even most male physicians. As the years pass, Nardeen continues to struggle with grief of losing her family—and prepares for the day when she will take revenge on her family’s killers.

But the truth is more complicated than Nardeen can imagine, and connecting the dots between her family’s murder, the missing manuscript, and Baghdad's political unrest will take every bit of courage and perseverance she has. During her ordeal, Nardeen will discover how thin the line between justice and vengeance really is.

The Djinn’s Apple, a YA novel originally published in Arabic in 2017, has been translated into English by Sawad Hussain, making this magical and enthralling book available to a English readers for the first time. Author Djamila Morani skillfully blends mystery and historical fiction to tell a gripping tale about a girl seeking justice for her family, while also bringing readers into a time and place that many of us may not know much about.

Readers will also surely like Nardeen, a feminist before her time, who perseveres to learn medicine despite opposition from several men who believe that females are incapable of being physicians. There is even a touch of romance (Nardeen and a fellow trainee doctor start falling for each other), which will have readers rooting for the couple as the novel progresses. Ultimately, The Djinn’s Apple is an artful rendering of an ancient time and way of life, with a perfect dose of intrigue to please the modern mystery lover.

"One of my favorite parts of writing a novel is the research. I love going down rabbit holes on lesser-known facets of history, the quirky, head-scratching, jaw-dropping stuff."

The 11th, and final, book of the Maggie Hope series, The Last Hope, might seem completely over the top if it were not grounded in actual history. Throughout the series, my goal has been to shed light on aspects of the war which are little known (at least to us now) and what “regular people” did as well as the historic bold names. My goal has also been to take “white hat” and “black hat” stories about the Greatest Generation and show them in more shades of gray.

I’ve explored the IRA bombings in London, which were simultaneous with the Blitz, and the plot to kill King George and kidnap Princess Elizabeth to put the Duke of Westminster and Mrs. Simpson on the throne. Britain not only had to deal with enemies from abroad, but enemies within, whether they were double agents or serial killers.

One of my favorite parts of writing a novel is the research. I love going down rabbit holes on lesser-known facets of history, the quirky, head-scratching, jaw-dropping stuff. Some of the historical facts I explore in The Last Hope, are so unbelievable and extraordinary that—even on my 11th book—I had to cross-reference the details with multiple sources. When that happens, I know I need to write about them. Then I research as much as possible, think of how they could affect Maggie in real time, and start imagining.

For The Last Hope I took three distinct threads of World War II history. The first was Coco Chanel’s actions as a Nazi secret agent, including her two trips to Madrid to broker a separate peace for Germany with Britain on behalf of Walter Schellenberg. The second was the story of Mo Berg, a former Red Sox catcher, who worked for the OSS (the precursor to the CIA) during World War II. His assignment was to assassinate Werner Heisenberg, the German whom the Allies believed had developed the first nuclear bomb, or was close to doing so. And then there’s Aline Griffith, the Countess of Romanones. Like Berg, she was American and working for the OSS in Madrid during the war, being romanced by the famous bullfighter Juanito Belmonte (whom she eventually married!) while carrying out spy missions.

Of course, this is Maggie’s story, and I needed a way to connect all these disparate events. Enter Kim Philby—yes, that Kim Philby, one of the infamous Cambridge Spies, who eventually defected to the Soviet Union. During WWII, Philby oversaw Spain and Portugal for SOE, and ran U.K. missions there. He connected Maggie, in SOE, to everything happening in Madrid. And thus I was able to draw in the bigger themes of the start of the Cold War during the last years of WWII, and how (since it seemed inevitable the Allies would win) the world’s powers would reorganize themselves after.

Woven into the history, though, is Maggie’s own story. In The Last Hope, she navigates dangerous missions (of course) but also love, loss, acceptance and, ultimately, hope. My wish, as with all of Maggie’s books, is that real historic details make Maggie’s story come alive, and the result is enlightening, entertaining, and maybe even a little inspiring.

Susan Elia MacNeal is the author of The New York Times, Washington Post, Publishers Weekly, and USA Today-bestselling Maggie Hope mystery series, starting with the Edgar Award-nominated and Barry Award-winning Mr. Churchill’s Secretary. The Maggie Hope novels have been nominated for the Edgar, the Macavity, the ITW Thriller, the Barry, the Dilys, the Sue Federer Historical Fiction, and the Bruce Alexander Historical Fiction awards. The Last Hope is slated to be the final book in the Maggie Hope series.

Connie Berry’s Kate Hamilton books feature an American antiques dealer who has family ties overseas through her Scottish husband. As the series opens, Kate, recently widowed, is visiting her sister-in-law, Eleanor, on the Isle of Glenroth. Kate hopes that she can make peace with the prickly Eleanor, who blames Kate for her brother's drowning. There on the island, she quickly encounters a murder mystery and meets an English man, a detective, naturally, who will change her life.

Berry’s books are a wonderful combination of tricky plots, rich characters, and beautiful settings, and for anyone who adores a British village mystery, this is the series for you. Each novel focuses on a story in the past, often highlighting some specific antique element. In A Collection of Lies, the fifth in the series, that element is lacemaking and fabric restoration.

Robin Agnew for Mystery Scene: I am so sorry I haven’t discovered this series sooner! I can’t wait to catch up. I did notice, looking at your publication history, that your first book came out during the COVID pandemic. Was that a challenge to promote?

Connie Berry: Actually, my first two books, A Dream of Death and A Legacy of Murder, were both published in 2019, before COVID. I remember feeling sorry for new authors whose big debut happened during those terrible, isolating months—no launch parties, no bookstore signings or library talks, no conferences. It’s hard enough getting your name out there when you’re new, but to do everything online must have been extremely discouraging—and daunting. We were just learning how to use Zoom.

However, having two books out in the same year was a challenge as well. Looking back, I wish I’d lobbied for bringing them out in 2019 and 2020, respectively, because Legacy got overshadowed. A debut novel always gets more attention, and in terms of awards, I was actually competing against myself. But it is what it is—and I’m glad both are out there in the world.

I really love when an amateur sleuth uses their professional expertise to solve a crime, as is the case here. Kate’s expertise lies in antiques, and I understand yours does as well. Can you talk about the relationship between your own expertise and Kate’s?

You’re right—Kate and I share a similar background, as both our parents were antiques collectors and dealers. Strange coincidence, right? New writers are often told to “Write what you know.” That’s not always sound advice, of course. Crime writers (thankfully) don’t have to be criminals, and writers often write about worlds we wish we knew. But in my case, I did know the world of antiques. My parents began collecting almost as soon as they were married, and when the collection threatened to overwhelm our house, they opened a shop. From childhood, I attended auctions and shows. Every vacation was a thinly disguised buying trip. During high school, I worked in the shop on weekends.

Kate, unlike me, had her own shop in Jackson Falls, Ohio. Now that she’s living in the UK, she works with Ivor Tweedy at The Cabinet of Curiosities, an antiques and antiquities business in the fictional Suffolk village of Long Barston. Kate’s professional expertise has proven helpful to the police several times. While this isn’t true of me, I draw upon memories of stories I heard growing up (antiques dealers are a gossipy lot) and of my mother, who was a brilliant researcher. She documented as much of the history of an object as she could uncover and shared that information with buyers. “That way,” she said, “people aren’t just buying an object; they’re buying a piece of history.”

You describe Kate as a “divvy.” Can you explain where that term came from? Is it a real thing? Do you know any divvys?

Used in the context of antiques, the word divvy (“diviner”) refers to someone who has a near-supernatural ability to detect a valuable object when others can’t—and to tell the real thing from a fake, like Lovejoy in the wonderful old British TV series.

Kate’s father, who taught her about antiques, called her a divvy, an antiques whisperer, able to spot the single treasure in a houseful of junk—although Kate is quick to point out that it isn’t always true. What is true, is the fact that Kate experiences certain physical sensations in the presence of an object of great age and beauty—flushed skin, dry mouth, racing heart. And sometimes a word or a phrase forms in her mind—sadness, joy, fear, jealousy, danger—as if the emotional atmosphere in which an object once existed had seeped into the cracks and crevices along with the dust and grime. Kate, who doesn’t believe in the supernatural, chalks this up to her notoriously overactive imagination. She’s never told a soul (even her new husband) because she doesn’t understand it herself.

Where did this come from? I had a similar but far less dramatic experience as a child. My parents had been to central America where a woman on the street offered to sell them a hand-carved wooden doll, folk art. Begged them, actually. The problem was they immediately saw that the doll had belonged to a small child, who was watching from a doorway. Not knowing what to do, they decided the family must have badly needed the money, and that if they didn’t buy the doll, the woman would just sell it to someone else who might take advantage of them. So they bought the doll and paid the woman three times what she’d asked. Nevertheless, it bothered them, and they left, not knowing if they’d done the right thing or not. Hearing the story later, I held the doll in my hands and felt a tremendous sense of sadness and loss—what I imagined the little child had felt. I still have the doll and often think of the little girl who had to give it up for the sake of her family. I use this experience and others in the Kate books.

I was fascinated by the character of Gideon. How did you come up with the idea for him to live as closely as possible to a Victorian gentleman?

The best stories, in my opinion, are true—or at least partly true. As a lover of history, I’ve always been fascinated by the possibility of breaching the wall separating past and present. Years ago, I loved the BBC documentaries in which people volunteered to live for a time exactly as people did in the past (Living in the Past, Turn Back Time). Much later, I read about a young man in the UK who lives and dresses as a Regency gentleman. To make a living, he designs and sews reproduction Regency men’s clothing. Turns out he isn’t the only one. Another man recreates the life of a Victorian gentleman, and a married couple in the UK live as they would have in the 1930s. This time-travel angle really fascinates me, and I wanted to explore the reasons why someone would actually attempt it. Plus, Gideon has his own past to deal with, so his lifestyle becomes almost a metaphor.

The relationship between Tom and Kate grounds the book. I see looking back you may have been slowly drawing them together through the novels. When you began the series, did you have an arc in mind for the characters, and what’s next for them?

I’m glad you like Tom and Kate. I do, too, and have enjoyed writing about their developing relationship. They didn’t start out on the best of footings, and Kate’s interest in Tom develops despite her determination never to marry again. Losing her first husband suddenly and unexpectedly was a trauma causing something like PTSD. And the relationship between Tom and Kate has been fraught with problems. They have two careers, two families, two sets of friends, two lives separated by an ocean.

In A Dream of Death, Kate reflects on the irony that of all the men her friends have tried to set her up with since her husband’s death, Tom, an English policeman, is the only one she’s ever really felt an attraction for. They’ve had to deal with obstacles in the course of their relationship, including Tom’s mother who’s done everything she could to keep them apart. When I began the series, I had an arc in mind for them, which is still playing out in my current (as yet unnamed) work in progress.

The details of fabric restoration, as well as the lacemaking, are fascinating. Can you talk about your research on this part of the book?

I operate on the principle that what sparks my curiosity will appeal to readers. I’m glad to know it did in your case, Robin. I’ve always been interested in antique clothing—the past/present thing again. Garments that people actually wore are a tangible and very personal link to the past.

Several years ago, I visited Greenway, Agatha Christie’s summer home in Devon, England, which is now a National Trust property. The day we were there was quiet with few visitors. Fabric conservators were actually working on one of Dame Agatha’s dresses, and they were kind enough to answer my many questions about their work. Later, at home, I did lots of research into the various methods conservators use. One of the big issues is the removal of dirt and stains. Some are historically significant—blood on a fallen soldier’s jacket, for example—and must not be removed.

I learned about the lacemakers of Devon at a wonderful little museum in Honiton called Allhallows Museum of Lace and Local Antiquities. The day we were there a woman was demonstrating the process, which is so intricate and time-consuming that really only hobbyists attempt it today. Each part of England had its own distinctive style of lacemaking. Honiton lace from Devon, for example, is made by creating individual motifs which are then joined together in a dense overall pattern.

I was fascinated, not only by the process but by the lives of the lacemakers, which were wonderfully presented. Again, I followed up with lots of research at home, and the woman I met at the museum agreed to answer any subsequent questions I had. I’ve thanked her and others who helped me in the book’s Acknowledgments.

Your books are set in England, but you live in Ohio. I’m sure you travel to England, but how do you ensure you are getting the details correct? Do you have English readers vet your manuscripts?

I am lucky to be able to spend time in England every year (we’re going again in October), but as an American, I still need help getting the details right. That’s where research comes in, but I also depend upon beta readers and various experts. For A Collection of Lies, a writer friend, Marni Graff, introduced me to Joyce McLennen, longtime personal assistant and typist for P.D. James.

She was kind enough to read the book, and she taught me something I didn’t know: British people never use the past participle “have gotten” as we do in the States. Instead, they say, “have got.” I’ve heard this, of course, but it never clicked until Joyce pointed it out. I’ve also been fortunate to receive help from specialized sources such as the British police, the coroner’s office in Suffolk, the National Trust, and various experts in medieval documents. People generally are happy to answer questions. If they aren’t, I just thank them for their time and try someone else. For my first book, A Dream of Death, I asked Val McDermid for a source in the Scottish police, and she introduced me to the senior officer on the Isle of Skye.

I was also fascinated by the history of the Romanis in your book. When you have so many rich historical threads to follow, how do you winnow them and not head down a research rabbit hole?

Trust me—I’ve been down a lot of rabbit holes! I love research and often have to remind myself that enough is enough. Readers don’t need all the details—just enough to fire the imagination. What ends up on the page is usually only a small percentage of what I learn. But you bring up the English Gypsies, the Romanichals. They are a distinct ethnic group, only marginally connected with the Roma in the United States.

Knowing that I needed information, I contacted the Romany & Traveller Family History Society in the UK. They suggested I get in touch with Dr. Thomas Acton, a retired professor of Romani studies, himself a Romanichal. He turned out to be a fascinating and very kind man—an OBE and one of the leading experts in the UK on the Romanichals. He agreed to read my manuscript and shared lots of insights. Actually, he was the one who explained that Romanichals don’t consider the term gypsy to be a racial slur as the Roma in the U.S. do. They are proud of the name as their forefathers died for it.

This was a very complicated mystery, with many threads to follow for the reader. Can you talk about your plotting process?

I’m what is sometimes called a “tent-pole plotter,” meaning that I begin a novel knowing the major plot points, but not how I will navigate from one to the next. That’s where the fun of writing comes in, and I’ve often changed my plot to accommodate one of the characters who didn’t want to cooperate with my plans. Plots often develop organically. The tricky part, as you say, is getting all those threads to untangle at the end.

Antiques dealers who carry jewelry as did my parents often have to untangle huge knots in gold chains. It’s time-consuming and meticulous work and can appear impossible. That’s a little like untangling all the plot threads, one link at a time. One of my favorite parts of writing is handling all the plot threads, but I have a confession: In every book I’ve ever written, there comes a time (usually when I’m about three-fourths of the way through) when I throw up my hands and say, “Nope. This isn’t going to work! I can’t do it!”

But there is a way, and I’ve always found it—so far.

Do you consider this series more of a cozy or a traditional series? I think the book has elements of both. Cozy adjacent? What are your thoughts on this type of categorization?

I like that term “cozy adjacent.” I’ve called my books “traditional mysteries with cozy characteristics.” Although I read and admire lots of different kinds of crime fiction, I’m personally not interested in writing graphic language, sex, or violence. It just isn’t my style. I like to think I’m following in the footsteps of the Golden Age of Detective Fiction. I love rich settings, fully realized characters, and interesting, twisty plots.

Finally, can you talk about a book that was transformational for you as a reader or as a writer?

Yes, I can! When I was around 11 or 12 (I think), I used to take the bus to the downtown library in my smallish town. I’d spend the afternoon just wandering through the stacks and picking up random books that interested me. The librarians must have been very tolerant because they told me not to reshelve the books but to put them on the returns cart for them to reshelve. I admit I didn’t always do that.

Once I happened to pick up one of the Jeeves & Wooster books by P.G. Wodehouse. I read the whole thing right there and then. The kind of dry British humor he wrote I’d never heard in my life. No one I knew talked that way. I really thought I had personally discovered a writer no one else had ever heard of, and I went on to read almost everything Wodehouse wrote.

I still read his books every year and never get tired of them. They are just so much fun. They still make me laugh. Wodehouse was transformational for me in almost every way as I went on to major in English literature in both college and graduate school. I attended St. Clare’s College, Oxford, where I studied the modern British novel. That’s where I really fell in love with the British Isles, but I believe I became an Anglophile when I first read Wodehouse. And I’ve never gotten over it. When I decided to write a mystery, it was going to be set in the UK—that was a given.

Connie Berry, award-winning author and former aspiring archaeologist, expertly weaves her passion for history and antiques into the Kate Hamilton Mystery series. Set in the UK, the series mirrors Connie’s own unique upbringing and loved for the British Isles, gained through her studies at Ohio State University, Germany, and Oxford, England. Her debut, A Dream of Death, won the IPPY Gold Medal and became a Silver Falchion and Agatha Award finalist. Residing in central Ohio and Northern Wisconsin with her husband and dog Emmie, Connie invites readers to explore her world at connieberry.com.

Robin Agnew is a longtime Mystery Scene contributor and was the owner of Aunt Agatha's bookstore in Ann Arbor, Michigan, for 26 years. No longer a brick and mortar store, Aunt Agatha has an extensive used book collection is available at abebooks.com and the site auntagathas.com is home to more of Robin's writing.

Man in the Water
by David Housewright
Minotaur Books, June 2024, $29

David Housewright’s latest Rushmore McKenzie novel, Man in the Water, is an easygoing mystery with a vivid Minnesota backdrop and a witty hero. When McKenzie (an unlicensed private detective who does favors for friends) and his wife, Nina Truhler, are invited for an early Spring cruise on the St. Croix River, everything goes wrong before it starts. In the marina parking lot a frantic woman, Elizabeth "Bizzy" Woods, asks them to help find her husband, E. J. Elizabeth. Seems E. J. went to look at the river and he never came back.

Nina finds E. J. dead in the icy river, his head is a few feet below the water’s surface and his hand still clutching the dock’s ladder. The police are called, but no one has a good explanation as to why he didn't just pull himself up. The plot thickens when McKenzie discovers E. J. had purchased four life insurance policies in the past year—to the tune of $500,000 each. Unsurprisingly, the underwriters of the policies claim E. J. killed himself and the companies refuse to pay off. Bizzy, trying to prove E. J.’s death was an accident, sues the marina for negligence and McKenzie is pulled into the case as a witness. When, during McKenzie’s deposition, E. J.’s daughter Nevaeh claims her father was murdered, McKenzie starts his own investigation. A few murders, a bunch of wisecracks, a shooting, and some excellent detecting leads McKenzie to the culprit.

Man in the Water begins slower than McKenzie’s usual investigations. The mystery bubbles and burbles, McKenzie and Nina trying to forget E. J. and that cold May morning at the river while the reader is wondering how (and when) McKenzie is going to get involved. But once McKenzie commits himself, at Nina’s insistence, things pick up nicely. Housewright’s style is smooth and McKenzie’s smart-alecky nature is endearing and, every so often, outright funny. The mystery is comfortable with enough excitement to keep the pages turning, but what makes Man in the Water appealing are the vibrant Minnesota setting and the characters (especially Bizzy and a woman McKenzie meets in a VFW bar).

Man in the Water isn’t David Housewright’s best novel, but it is still a bunch of fun.