In Barcelona: The Summer of Dead Toys and The Good Suicides, by Antonio Hill

Moving from France to Spain, I've discovered Antonio Hill, author of The Summer of Dead Toys and The Good Suicides.  Here's another case where, imho,  the first book in the series turned out to be better than the next. Both are good,  both have unique stories to tell, and in both, past events have a bearing on the present.   The Summer of Dead Toys and The Good Suicides both take place in Barcelona, home of the main character, Inspector Hector Salgado, a native Argentinian who is now living and working in Spain.


The Summer of Dead Toys finds Salgado back home in Barcelona, back  after being forced to take a leave while on probation, for letting his temper get away with him during the investigation of a human trafficking case.  Now that he's back, he hasn't forgotten why he was sent away, and neither have his superiors. The first case that hits his desk is that of nineteen year-old Marc Castells, son of Enric Castells, a successful businessman whose name has been mentioned more than once in connection with "a couple of right-wing parties" that would "like to have him in their ranks." 

 978077043875

Crown, 2012

oriignally published as El verano de los jugetes muertos, 2011

translated by Laura McGloughlin

353 pp

hardcover

Marc's fall from an apartment balcony was ruled an accident, but the mother who abandoned him as an infant isn't so sure. She wants someone to "dedicate more time" to her son's death, and Salgado's superior Savall tasks him with quietly asking a few questions in this "unofficial" case.  As Salgado and his partner Leire Castro start making the rounds of friends, family and anyone else who might have known Marc, they also start noticing things that just don't add up. When a second death occurs, they know that there's much more here than meets the eye.  They begin to piece together what little information they can gather, and soon it snowballs into a complicated case where  "the threads ...  seemed to be multiplying, pointing in different directions..."   In the meantime, Salgado also comes to realize that his business with his former nemesis in the human trafficking case is still very much unfinished. 

Told via several points of view, The Summer of Dead Toys is a good, challenging mystery that eventually brings the past under present scrutiny, and has as two of its main themes personal responsibility and justice.  There is one point in this book where Salgado asks a very pertinent question:

"Justice is a two-way mirror...On one side it reflects the dead and on the other the living. Which of the two seems more important to you?"

He can make allowances -- even though he's volatile and quick to anger, he also appreciates what his co-workers and friends do for him when things aren't going so well.  But one of his best qualities is that he is a seeker of truth and knows that "there's only one truth, for the living and the dead." This trait, along with his need to be a good dad after having had such a terrible one, helps to define who he is in the world.

 There are more than a couple of subplots that keep things interesting, and the ending, without spoiling things, leads nicely into Hill's second series installment, The Good Suicides, although here's a classic Catch-22: I can't really say much about one major subplot of the second book without ruining the first. 

 9780770435905

Crown, 2013

originally published as Los Buenos Suicidas, 2012

translated by Laura McGloughlin

338 pp

hardcover;

received from the publisher via "Blogging For Books" in exchange for a review

A phone call in the wee hours of the morning brings an already-awake Hector Salgado down to the metro station at  Plaça Urquinaona, where it seems that a woman identified as Sara Mahler has committed suicide by jumping into the path of an oncoming train.  A kid stole the dead woman's cell phone, but was made to return it by his brother, who handed it over to the police.  The only thing on the phone was a photo showing the weirdest thing: three hanged dogs suspended by ropes in a tree, captioned with the words NEVER FORGET.  Investigating Sara's death, Salgado and his new partner Agent Fort (taking Leire Castro's place since she's on maternity leave) discover that Sara worked for Alemany Cosmetics.  At Sara's apartment, Fort discovers a photo of Sara with a group of her co-workers at a team retreat, and recognizes someone in the picture -- Gaspar Rodenas, who the previous September, had killed his wife, their fourteen-month old baby and then himself. When a third employee dies, Salgado knows that somehow all of these deaths are connected -- and that they all have something to do with the bizarre photo of the dead dogs in the tree. But what? No one is talking, yet he strongly intuits that some kind of cover up is going on.   While Hector and Agent Fort are busy trying to uncover the significance of the strange photo of the dogs, Leire Castro is bored on her maternity leave and wants something challenging to occupy her time.  She decides that a certain missing persons case is just the ticket, and convinces a friend in the police to get her the files.  She starts combing through them, and although she's supposed to be resting, what she discovers is enough to set her ennui aside and get out and investigate this case -- one that she knows is near and dear to Hector Salgado's heart.  These two major narratives alternate with the points of view of the group from the retreat, who hold the keys to the secrets behind the deaths. 

In The Good Suicides, the author reaffirms Salgado's focus on justice and his need to root out the truth, no matter what.  As he says to one of the characters in this story,

"...little by little the truth rises to the surface ... That's what my work consists of. Bringing the truth to light, exposing it for everyone to see. And I assure you, I enjoy it."

The more he tries to ferret out the real story, the more guarded the principals involved become, frustrating Salgado to no end.  Yet as he's trying to piece it all together, he's also trying to be a good dad to his teenaged son, which in turn makes him reflect on certain events in his past, and how that past had a bearing on who he is now.

While I have a couple of issues with this book, overall, it's a pretty good read.  I like this inspector, I like the way Mr. Hill writes, and above all, I like how he uses the past as a catalyst for what happens in the present. This is best exemplified in his Summer of Dead Toys, although it's also the case here, albeit with a shorter time span.  And in both books, the revelations are surprising -- I never guessed the who or the why at all.   However, as I said earlier, I found  The Summer of Dead Toys to be a better read than The Good Suicides. Normally it's not this way -- usually I expect the first novel in a series to be a little rougher since the author hasn't quite got his characters fully fleshed out or he/she hasn't quite settled into a style of writing.  In both books, the reader feels like he/she's known Salgado for a while already, since his character springs into life pretty much right away.   Both books also contain  an interesting and very challenging mystery at the novel's heart that once revealed, gives the reader an understanding behind the crimes that take place in that story.  The real problem for me  in The Good Suicides is all of the extraneous stuff that could have been left out with no problem. First, there's a superfluous storyline about one of the men at the Alemany company who is engaged to the owner's sister who allows himself to be seduced by his soon-to-be sixteen year-old stepdaughter.  Not only does it have no place in this story, but I mean, come on! A possibly-incestuous affair? Major turn off.  Second, I know that characterization is key, and I get that a big focus in these two novels is on parenthood, but I could have also done without Leire's  repeated musings on Tomas (the baby's father) and  on how she'll be raising her baby.  Aaarrrghhh! Maybe other readers are really into this sort of thing, but for me, it just detracts from the main storylines and is actually a distraction when I'm much more interested in why these people all died and how Salgado is going to shake loose the truth.  

In the long run, however, if and when another Inspector Salgado novel comes out in translation, I'll be shelling out the money to buy a copy.  There's still a HUGE unfinished and ongoing plot element to be explored that I'd like to see through to the end, and as I said, I've come to like this guy.  And I have to say that I think it's very funny that in both books, when there are crimes committed with guns, Mr. Hill makes some sarcastic wisecrack about Americans and their love affair with guns. He's right on the money and it's interesting to see one little peek into how Americans are perceived abroad, well, at least in that area.  So yes, I'll be clicking that buy button when the next one comes out.

crime fiction from Spain

The Sound of One Hand Killing, by Teresa Solana

9781908524065
Bitter Lemon Press, 2013
265 pp
originally published as L'hora zen, 2011
translated by Peter Bush

softcover; UK (available in the US May 2013)

A strange small statue, a dead neighbor, and a murder at an "exclusive, luxury alternative centre" where the wealthy go for Bach-flower and other homeopathic therapies are only part of the lineup in this third (and unfortunately for me, the last right now) installment of Solana's entertaining series set in Barcelona.  The brothers Borja and Eduard are back and once again find themselves in some pretty wild predicaments; the usual Solanaesque satirical punches are intact, this time aimed at alternative therapies, what people will do to stay forever youthful looking (especially plastic surgeries), and  there are also little hints of barb pointing at the world of writers and readers.  With more focus on the brothers and a better flow than in book two, A Shortcut to Paradise, here the author adds to the mix of brotherly craziness, murder and the vegetable sausage fare of the alternative therapy center by placing her characters into the realm of spy fiction and rare art as well.

As the novel opens, someone has broken into the brothers' office, and the place has been overturned. Going all postmodern on her readers,  Teresa Solana  injects herself as a character seeking the help of Borja and Eduard, and has an appointment that day.  Not wanting to give away the show that their office is a setup, Borja remembers that his upstairs neighbor had given him a set of keys to his apartment, so they decide to meet the author there.  While routing around the place before her arrival, the brothers stumble on to a dead body -- that of the neighbor -- who's obviously been there some time.  With Solana on her way, though, they take a bit of their non-existent secretary's perfume and spray it in the neighbor's flat for her visit, hoping to disguise the smell of decomposition.  The author's request is simple: she's writing a novel about "alternative therapies," and wants to set some of her chapters in the area north of the Diagonal, so she comes to the brothers to enlist their aid in gathering research for her.  They are only too happy to help -- the credit crunch and economic downturn leaves Eduard's wife Montse unable to procure a loan for her business, and money is tight all over; Borja has even agreed to be a middleman and hold on to a small statue until he is called to deliver it, an easy task for the reward he'll get of several thousand Euros.  After Solana's visit, they quickly clean up any traces of themselves and leave the door open for the smell to waft down and the body to be discovered.  They then make their way to the Zen Moments center, where they wangle their way into a weekend stay; after suffering through a few not-funny practical jokes, the brothers are on hand when the owner of the place is discovered dead.  Their friend, Inspector Badia, wants them to help catch the killer, which may be difficult, because Borja has become the focus of a group of thugs who want something he has; since Borja's involved, Eduard is along for the action. 

There's so much in this book -- antiquities trafficking, spies, the mafia, murder, and of course, the sardonic look at alternative therapies -- and as usual there are some very funny moments with the brothers, both while pursuing their line of work and at home.   The satire is great, as always, but at some point there has to be a limit -- as much as I love her tongue-in-cheek critiques, the murder investigation had little complexity, and offered way too easy of a solution, making the resolution to the murder rather unexciting, and frankly, rather flat. And really -- a character named Lord Ashtray is just silly and didn't appeal. As I'm writing this I'm sitting here wondering if maybe she's not writing her books for the crime element as much as the social -- if this is the case, then I suppose a rethink on approaching her novels is in order.  Anyway, the action in The Sound of One Hand Killing leaves no doubt but that the brothers will return in another installment, and that they will be dogged by business left unfinished in this one.

So, my final words on this book -- I liked it with only a few reservations,  and do recommend it for readers continuing with the series (if you haven't read the first two, definitely do not start with this one); it has some very entertaining moments and I absolutely love the brothers and can't wait to see what trouble they get into next.  While I'm a little less than overwhelmed with the murder solution, the entire series is worth reading because of the main characters -- their craziness will keep me coming back for more.

 ***

oh yes! Because I'm a moronica sometimes, I accidentally bought two copies of this book, so if you would like my extra copy and you live in the United States, I'm happy to just give it to you and I'll pay postage.  Don't be embarrassed to ask -- you'll be doing me a huge favor helping me to keep my library manageable! Not a contest -- first person who comments gets it.

A Shortcut to Paradise, by Teresa Solana

9781904738558
Bitter Lemon Press, 2011
originally published as Drecera al paradis, 2007
translated by Peter Bush
284 pp

softcover

In book number two of Solana's series to feature the twin brothers Borja and Eduard, for the most part I stayed highly entertained by this author's imagination and her writing. I say "for the most part" because while the brothers are fun, and while I looked forward to seeing how they'd  pull the murderer out of their respective hats,  the story is also  punctuated by a couple of rather ridiculous set pieces (one involving a near orgy due to overpowering canapes) and the narrative sort of meanders a bit before the brothers do their usual stuff in trying to bring the killer to justice. I did enjoy Solana's usual  pokes at Barcelona society, and here she adds another object of satire, centering around the literary world. While I had a good time reading it, I have to say that I liked the first book a little bit better -- it had much more of a crime-fiction feel to it than this one, the ending of which just left me just sort of flat.   

Ernest Fabia, translator and family man, has a serious problem.  His bank has just called and gives him two weeks to come up with the four months of payment he owes on his mortgage. He was one of the multitudes caught up in the dreaded real estate bubble, and after a car accident, a new baby and unforeseen expenses with his older child, Ernest is in a world of financial hurt.  The dreaded Final Notice that he's read x number of times  is all he can think about, and he decides to take matters into his own hands -- he decides he'll rob someone rich to make up for the money shortfall.  His randomly-picked victim turns out to be Amadeu Cabestany, an author who has left a party at the Ritz hotel after not winning a literary prize he'd been hoping for.  Ernest robs him, leaving him 10 euros for cabfare, and when Amadeu returns to the hotel, he is placed under arrest for the murder of Marina Dolç, his rival for and winner of the award.  It's obvious that Amadeu is not guilty but he had been overheard in a heated rant against Marina and to the police, that's motive enough. But convinced he is innocent,  Amadeu's agent hires Borja and Eduard to clear his name and get him out of jail.  In the meantime, Ernest, who is basically a good man, is afraid to read the papers, so has no idea that Amadeu's been arrested, and to take his mind off his troubles, heads off to a retreat where he can concentrate on his translation work.  He and the taxi driver who returned Amadeu to the hotel are the only alibi witnesses; the taxi driver's not talking because he's just out of prison himself and driving the cab with no license and Ernest is away trying not to think about what he's done.  The brothers take the case, along with a retired cop for help, but with very little to go by in the way of alibi, it's going to be tough for Amadeu to be exonerated.

This story kind of moves all over the place, with much less emphasis on the crime and its solution than in the previous series installment.  It's not as tight as it could have been, and the author spends way too much time  setting up one of the big gags in this book which I thought was kind of ridiculous anyway, the runaway rumor that Amadeu is not only a murderer, but a cannibal as well.  Borja and Eduard are gone from the story for a long time which was a bit frustrating while I waited for them to return to get down to business solving the crime.  And then there's the ending and the solution to the crime ... I can guess at what happened, but really, after leading me all the way to the end,  making me wait for the story to resume while  the silly, even farcical set pieces played out, I think I deserved more of a why.  I have to say that my feelings are mixed about this book -- it's a "meh" for me.

I wouldn't let my less than excited reaction put anyone off if considering the book or the series -- it's still fun, the brothers are perfectly paired, the satire is very well executed, and it has received some sterling ratings.   I'm just soooo picky! I'll be moving on to the next book, The Sound of One Hand Killing (which is supposed to hit the US May 13th but nah nah, I have a UK copy already), which should say something positive about this author and especially her quirky protagonists. I'd recommend it to those who've started the series and wonder about continuing  -- yes, by all means do!

crime fiction from Spain

A Not So Perfect Crime, by Teresa Solana

9781904738343
Bitter Lemon Press, 2008
286 pp
originally published as Un crim imperfecte, 2006
translated by Peter Bush

softcover



A Not So Perfect Crime is the first of three in a series of novels featuring twin brothers Eduard Martínez Estivill and Jose Martínez Estivill, the latter known as Borja Masdéu-Canals Sáez de Astorga to everyone but his brother, who knows him as Pep. Eduard hasn't even told his wife about the true identity of his brother, and the two of them constitute Frau Consultants, a private "detective" agency with false office doors and a secretary who's always away when their clients come to see them at the office.  They cater to the social elite of Barcelona, people with problems and a lot of money that insures that their problems are handled discreetly.  This series opener finds the two working for an MP who wants to know if the man who painted his wife's portrait is also having an affair with her.  While the book brought occasional smiles to my face because of the many crazy situations in which the two find themselves, the entire crime and its solution could have been achieved in half the space, as  there is much more emphasis on developing the characters, setting the social-class scene and keeping the gags going throughout the novel.  This isn't necessarily a bad thing -- the characters are fun and well established by the end of the story; I can sense this series is going to be interesting as time goes by.


MP Lluis Font calls in the brothers to find out whether or not his wife his having an affair with the man who painted her portrait.  While investigating the artist, they discover that there are a few things that Font hasn't told them -- namely, that he's having an affair of his own, one that literally crashes down onto them.  But when la Seňora Font turns up dead, Eduard begins to realize that perhaps this case is more than he and Borja are prepared to handle. 

A Not So Perfect Crime is a good mix of a mystery to be solved, well-developed main characters and a look at Barcelona society.   As the story begins to wind down, there is a decent solution to the crime, one that fits with clues gathered throughout the book. There are plenty of suspects to keep things lively and interesting and when the action is focused on the brothers' investigation, the story moves at a good pace.   The brothers are funny -- they're so different from each other that it keeps things interesting.  Borja is being kept in luxury by his mistress while Eduard often wonders how he and his wife are going to pay the bills. Montse, Eduard's wife, is also a well-drawn character, putting up with Eduard when his problems usually stem from the antics of his brother.   The scrapes that the two get themselves into (generally of Borja's making) are entertaining as is watching them escape their collective predicament.  The focus on Barcelona's higher-class levels of society are also interesting...it is a world where money can buy pretty much anything, where gossip or idle talk can kill careers or make things uncomfortable, where moral scruples are difficult to find, and where only the best will do.  This is, of course, contrasted to the world of the regular people -- where bills pile up and people have to make a living.  The author does a very good job of putting the two side by side so that the reader gets a feel for how the rich and powerful spend their days and how they're often able to manipulate others behind the scenes.

My issue with this book is that there is a lot of stuff in here that could easily have been left out, making for a tighter, less wordy and even at times rambling story.  I didn't care about Borja's adventures with Eduard's sister-in-law, for example; nor did it matter to me about Eduard's previous love affair in Paris. There's more of this kind of thing here, but lots of little things that are meant to go into character development sometimes divert attention away from the crime and its solution, making skimming seem like a good idea in some parts.  I will hopefully expect that when I get to Ms. Solana's next book, Shortcut to Paradise, that less backstory will be necessary and that more focus is placed on the brothers' escapades while solving whatever crime in which they become embroiled.



Overall, A Not So Perfect Crime turned out to be an entertaining novel, and a fine first foray into what I hope will turn out to be a very good crime-fiction series.  Definitely recommended!

crime fiction from Spain

Tattoo, by Manuel Vázquez Montalbán

9781846686672
Serpent's Tail
2008
originally published as Tartuaje, 1976
translated by Nick Caistor
232 pp.




My first entry in my mini-series I call "What Would Montalbano Read?", taken from the series written by Andrea Camilleri. 

Tattoo is actually the second book in the Pepe Carvalho series, following Yo maté a Kennedy of 1972.  Normally I have this compulsive need to begin with book one in any series, and even though I can read Spanish pretty fluently,  starting with Tattoo  is fine by me.  It's a mystery novel, skirting the edge of noir yet not as edgy as one would expect in that particular genre.  Although Montalbán is known to be one inspiration for Andrea Camilleri's Inspector Montalbano series, the main character, Pepe Carvalho, is much darker in character than Camilleri's protagonist, and this novel is not at all as lighthearted as Camilleri's in tone, although it does have its moments.



The basic story revolves around the discovery of a drowned man floating in the ocean and the search for his identity.  Shortly after the dead man is pulled on to the shore, he is turned over on his back, where onlookers discovered he had no face -- it had been eaten away by fishes.  Quickly turning him over once again, a child discovers a tattoo on his shoulder blade reading "Born to raise Hell in Hell."  Senor Ramon, a local hairdresser and businessman, hires Pepe Carvalho to discover the identity of the dead man, and "what he did in life." He refuses to explain why he wants to know this information, and is willing to pay Carvalho handsomely for his time.  The investigation will not only  lead Pepe to the Netherlands and to the seedy back streets of Barcelona, but will leave him black and blue in the process. 

Carvalho is an interesting character who touts himself as being "an ex-cop, an ex-Marxist, and a gourmet."  He also worked for the CIA at some point.  He's in love with a high-class prostitute named Charo, who he admires partly because she always "wolfed down her food like a growing adolescent," since Carvalho believes that "nobody who is indifferent to food is to be trusted."  He helps protect her prostitute friends, despising  their pimps. He has a library of some 3,500 books on his home shelves, and uses their pages for fire kindling.  In Tattoo, he burns Lain Entrago's Spain as a Problem and even Don Quixote, although he's sad to see the pictures go up in flames in Cervantes' work. He's also a consummate gourmet who loves food, eating and a good wine to go along.  Carvalho is a man of little, if any, ideals: he  works "enough to live," prefers work to politics, and could care less about technological advances his field and considers himself "not even neutral...aseptic" about politics.   But he has his negative qualities as well: he's a  blatant sexist and a little strange, tending toward violence  -- in one scene, for example, he bullies a woman into giving him information by threatening to stick her head into the fire, and then when she delivers, he takes her to bed.  I sense some complexity coming in future installments of this series, and I'm not yet sure what to make of this odd man.  I can applaud him for some things, but for others, he's disgusting.

The plot  is so-so, although the mystery aspect keeps the reader focused on the story, especially while Carvalho is in the Netherlands. Some of those scenes were downright funny while some prompted the reader to wonder why he goes through what he does there.   I mean, you want to keep reading and find out who the dead guy is, why he was killed, and above all, why his identity is important to the owner of a hairdressing shop.  The action moves quickly,  but it's Carvalho's outlook on life and on Spain that are the most interesting facets of this novel.  It makes for interesting and intriguing enough reading that I've already ordered the next one in the series, The Angst-Ridden Executive, which is also published by Serpent's Tail, and recently found a few more that I didn't realize I had  hidden on my international crime fiction tbr shelves.

Would I recommend it? Yes -- it's more than readable, with its lightly-plotted storyline and  the thread of mystery running through the novel, but beware of the oddness of Carvalho's personality in a few places.  He's definitely not a character for everyone. 

 crime fiction from Spain

Death on a Galician Shore, by Domingo Villar

9780349123417
Abacus, 2011
originally published as La playa de lost ahogados,  2009
translated by Sonia Soto
371 pp

Death on a Galician Shore is the second book in the Leo Caldas series, following Villar's awesome Water-Blue Eyes,  which I read and enjoyed very much last year.  It's not a gritty, edgy novel, but it's not on the lighter side either. 

Set in Galicia, which is composed of four different provinces in the northwestern part of Spain, the action begins when the body of fisherman Justo Castelo (aka El Rubio)  is washed up on the shore at Panxón. His wrists were bound, his palms pressed together with a flexible, green plastic tie strip. It might have been suicide, and it may have been an accident, but Inspector Caldas doesn't think so.  There's just something not right about the placement of the cable tie on his hands, and then there's a head wound to take into account, leading the Inspector to believe that it's looking more like a possible murder.   The problem is that the last time he was seen was on a Sunday, out on his boat, alone, which a) is normally a day of rest so no one fishes, and b) puts Justo in the boat by himself with no one else.  So Caldas and his assistant Rafa Estevez leave Vigo and head off to Panxón to investigate.  What they find is a great deal of reluctance among the villagers to talk and few clues, except for a couple of things:  Castelo had seemed to be scared lately, and he had  once crewed with a captain whose boat had foundered in a storm ten years earlier.  The crew made it to shore, but the captain drowned, and  recently people swear they have seen his ghost.  But with so many people unwilling to talk, it's not going to be an easy crime to solve.

Villar starts with an intriguing premise that quickly captures the reader's interest.  As the crime takes some time to investigate, the action slows while Caldas and Rafa are in the midst of gathering information, taking statements and doing other necessary police investigative work. The pace picks up later in the book as new information is gained, and Leo can pick up the various threads of the story, try out his various theories of the crime,  and pinpoint various suspects with motive to get rid of Castelo.   It seems there are a few, and there are enough red herrings to keep the reader busy trying to sort through them.  The best part of this novel, however, is the atmosphere of the fishing village -- the auctions,  talk about the sad state of the fishing industry, the suspicious and superstitious locals, even the food  -- which all come together to provide a very realistic sense of place that adds to the overall enjoyment of the novel and allows the reader to immerse him or herself in the scene. And, to the author's credit, the novel reads like a novel, not a screenplay, which is highly appreciated and gives the book a very solid footing in the world of crime fiction.

The characters in this novel are all finely drawn -- there's Caldas, who during this story, is preoccupied with thoughts of Alba (the woman who left him) and his father.  There's a constant running gag throughout the novel about his radio show Patrolling the Waves, and the added music that becomes a type of jingle while Leo's thinking of his answers. He's recognized everywhere his show is broadcast.   As a policeman, Caldas is the kind of guy who "...was never interested in the culprits.  To him, the main thing was knowing the motives, the reasons, " and this fact makes him a very diligent policeman, never flagging during an investigation when he feels he's on to something.  If you've read Water-Blue Eyes, you know that his character was well established in that novel; here, there's a bit more about him on the personal side, but nothing really is needed to enhance his detective personality. Rafa Estevez (who isn't actually a native Galician) is also interesting but a bit heavy handed, lacking in patience, and always ready to get tough with a suspect or anyone else that he might not like or who is giving him trouble. But he's Caldas' right-hand man, and has learned much from his boss, especially not to discuss business if Leo's hungry.  And even the suspects and the quirky villagers are well detailed. 

Death on a Galician Shore is a good novel, a solid crime fiction read with a good backstory, and I liked it a great deal, although I think I enjoyed his first book, Water-Blue Eyes a little bit more.  For the sake of understanding Leo's character better, it's best to start with Villar's first novel, but I think anyone could read this one and still have a feel for this Spanish detective. I'll definitely be looking for more of Villar's novels in the future.

Water-Blue Eyes, by Domingo Villar

9781906413255
Originally published, 2006 as Ojos de Agua
Translated by Martin Schifino
Eurocrime/Arcadia Books, 2008
167 pp.

--> Leo Caldas is a homicide inspector in the city of Vigo, which lies on the northwestern coast of Spain in the region of Galicia. His partner is Rafael Estévez, who had recently been transferred there from Zaragoza in Aragón, and who has a bit of a problem understanding local attitudes, not to mention the steep streets or the weather. As the novel opens, Caldas is working at his gig on a local radio talk and listener phone-in show, “Patrol in the Air.”  He’s rather tired of doing this show, because while he waits for someone to bring up the topic of murder, most people call in with matters that are more appropriate for the city police. But just after program #108, Estévez arrives to take Caldas to a high-rise apartment building on the island of Toralla, which sits in the bay off of Vigo, scene of a rather brutal murder of a saxophone player.  It’s the method of death which leads Caldas and his partner to discover where they should begin their search for suspects – the vital evidence which may have helped has been cleaned up by the victim’s housekeeper. 



Villar’s characters are well drawn. As a policeman, Caldas is a professional, but with the arrival of Estévez he has to work a bit harder to keep his partner out of trouble. Caldas has a father who makes wine in the countryside, and the two don’t see each other often because the father is unhappy that his son went to live in the city. He also enjoys good local delicacies and local wines, and was in a prior relationship with a woman named Alba, but due to a disagreement about having children, they’re no longer together. Rafael Estévez is a sort of a sidekick figure, who provides a bit of comic relief here and there, but who becomes easily frustrated with the lack of black-and-white answers he gets from the locals and often flies off the handle. Estévez is perpetually amazed that when Caldas introduces himself during their investigation, people readily identify him with “Patrol in the Air,” which happens throughout the story and provides a bit of a running comedy schtick between the two.

Water-Blue Eyes is just 167 pages long, but crime fiction readers will not be disappointed. There’s nothing extraneous to detract from the investigation --  no long-winded character portrayals, no overly-detailed analyses, and even the murder is described just enough to allow the reader to know what happened without going into overkill.  There is never any desire to skim over long, boring sections because there aren’t any. It also easily offers a good sense of place, so that you can smell the forests as well as the sea while you read, and your mouth will water at the delicious local food mentioned throughout the novel.

There’s another book out by Villar featuring Leo Caldas called La Playa de los Ahogados, but it has not yet been translated; when it is, I’m there. But for now, I can highly recommend Water-Blue Eyes. This is my first work of Spanish crime fiction, and now I’m on the hunt for more. 

 

fiction from Spain