The art of violence

This is the thirteenth title (following Paper Son, 2019) in Rozan's critically acclaimed series. PI partners Bill Smith and Lydia Chin alternate as narrators, and this time it's Bill's turn. The two detectives are in the early days of a romance and playing a game of don't-ask-don't-tell with Lydia's mother, the formidable Mama Chin. A serial killer is on the loose in New York City, and Sam Tabor, a brilliant artist recently released from prison, interrupts Bill's practice session of a Schubert impromptu to ask him to investigate whether he, Sam, is the murderer. Diagnosed with an astonishing assortment of mental disorders over the years, Sam self-medicates with alcohol and, as a result, is perpetually disoriented and suffers from intermittent memory loss. Bill and Lydia descend into his demimonde and discover that this self-proclaimed "weirdo" is no odder than his bizarre fellow artists and the dealers vying for his work. Not to mention the connoisseurs of his dark and violent paintings. After a donut-fueled meeting with the police and a few, much nicer dinners during which the couple bat around possibilities, Bill and Lydia find themselves in a muddled, he-did-it-no-she-did-it frenzy that culminates with Mama Chin saving the day. In addition to her formidable writing skills, Rozan's own endeavors as an architect of 20 years undoubtedly contribute to the novel's excellent structure.

Edgar winner Rozan brilliantly inverts a whodunit trope in her outstanding 13th mystery featuring New York City PIs Lydia Chin and Bill Smith (after 2019's Paper Son): instead of seeking exoneration, a convicted killer seeks to be proven guilty. Six years earlier, Bill was on Sam Tabor's defense team after Sam was charged with murdering Amy Evans, whom he'd stabbed to death at a party after drinking some punch laced with PCP. Sam, who had no previous history of violence, rejected an insanity defense, and accepted a plea deal. But Sam's 15-to-life sentence was curtailed after a successful campaign for his release spearheaded by activists who believed that his artistic gifts, discovered during his imprisonment, merited clemency. Now, after two women who resemble Evans are fatally stabbed in the city, Sam feels that he's once again responsible, and beseeches Bill to prove his guilt. Bill isn't sure what to believe, and aided by Lydia navigates a twisted path to the truth. As always, Rozan's intelligent, witty prose is a treat, and she justifies a choice made in the previous book regarding the relationship between her two leads. Newcomers as well as devotees will be enthralled. Agent: Josh Getzler, Hannigan Getzler Literary. (Dec.)

Whatever good feelings private eye Bill Smith may have about being back in New York after his recent trip to far-off Mississippi are muted by the fact that he's dealing with his honored series' most wacko client. Six years ago, Bill did his best to round up evidence that Sam Tabor, who stabbed Amy Evans to death, was suffering a bout of temporary insanity. But Sam, ignoring the advice of everyone around him, pleaded instead to a reduced charge and went to prison, where he worked on his out-there paintings and his paranoia. Now that he's been discovered by the art world, more or less legitimized by imperious gallery owner Sherron Konecki, and paroled, Sam, an alcoholic subject to regular blackouts, is convinced he's killed two other women whose murders coincided with big events in his life. Since "I can handle prison, Smith, but not the [looney] bin," he wants Bill to prove that he killed Annika Hausman and Tiffany Traynor, and he's willing to confess his presumptive guilt to Detective Angela Grimaldi, who really doesn't want to hear about it, and anyone else who's likely to help lock him up. As Bill and Lydia Chin, his professional and personal partner, make the rounds of witnesses who might clear Sam by serving as alternate suspects, two things gradually become clear. One is that Sam's relatives, friends, neighbors, colleagues, and collectors seem hellbent on proving they're at least as neurotic, venal, explosive, and crazy as Sam. The other is that whoever's killing young women with short blond hair isn't done. A rewardingly savvy tour of Manhattan's demented art scene with maybe one climax too many. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.