SoHo sins

This debut from Art in America's managing editor has an arresting beginning: after an art patron is found shot dead in her SoHo loft, her wealthy businessman husband turns himself in: My name is Philip Oliver, and I believe I murdered my wife. But narrator Jackson Wyeth, an art dealer and friend of the couple, isn't sure Oliver knows what he's talking about. Working with a PI hired to prove Oliver's innocence, Wyeth soon finds himself navigating a labyrinth of dark motives and deviant behavior in go-go 1990s New York. Readers wanting a tour of the art world by a knowledgeable and gimlet-eyed guide may enjoy this ambitious first effort, which, with lots of plot and a big cast, explores the nature of marriage, relationships, and even deeper existential questions. Unfortunately, the book has problems, chiefly in length and pacing, but also with anachronisms and methods of detection and law enforcement that will test the credulity of regular mystery readers. Vine paints a compelling picture, but he could have used fewer brushstrokes.--Graff, Keir Copyright 2016 Booklist

The contemporary New York art scene provides the backdrop for art magazine editor Vine's colorful first novel. When art patron Amanda Oliver is found dead in her SoHo loft, her husband, Philip, immediately and continually confesses to her murder, even though he couldn't have been there 24 hours earlier when she was shot. Philip's attorney hires PI Hogan to investigate, and Hogan enlists art dealer Jackson Wyeth's help. In their search for the truth, Hogan and Wyeth travel through the demimonde of assorted deviants, both artistic and sexual, who are the friends and lovers of the Olivers. Revelation slides after revelation, and a child pornography ring is exposed and eliminated, without moving the reader noticeably closer to the killer. Meanwhile, Philip rapidly deteriorates physically and mentally. The authentic background at times entices, and some of the characters are well realized, but the plot is lumpy, the police are curiously absent from the homicide investigation, and the detecting is mostly an offstage afterthought. And yet the vague denouement is strangely satisfying. (July) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.