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Executive Times |
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2006 Book Reviews |
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Sea
Change by Robert B. Parker |
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Rating: |
*** |
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(Recommended) |
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Click on
title or picture to buy from amazon.com |
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Tawdry Robert
B. Parker offers Sea Change
as the fifth Jesse Stone novel. The plot centers around
police chief Stone solving a murder that seemed to involve loveless sex capades. Parker continues to develop Stone in this novel,
to the pleasure of fans. The plot moves in unexpected and interesting ways,
and as usual, Parker’s dialogue is witty and effective. The gloomy sex crimes
and Stone’s level headed and careful investigation provide interesting
balance and contrast in Sea
Change. Here’s an excerpt, all of Chapter 4, pp. 18-24: Jesse was leaning on the front desk in
Paradise Police Headquarters reading the ME’s report on the floater. Molly
was working the phones. It was only 8:40 in the morning and the phones were
quiet. “You think she came off one of the
yachts?” Molly said. Jesse smiled. Molly always looked too small for the gun
belt. In fact there wasn’t all that much that Molly was too small for. She
was dark-haired and cute, full of curiosity and absolute resolve. “Only if they got here before Race
Week,” Jesse said. “ME says she’s been in the water
awhile.” “Any signs of trauma?” “Nope, but it’s pretty hard
to tell. Crab, ah, markings indicate she was probably on the bottom, which
might suggest she was weighted, and decomposition, tidal movement, whatever,
pulled her loose and sent her up. Or she could just have been in shallow
water.” “Could be lobster
markings,” Molly said. “I’ll keep it in mind,”
Jesse said. “Next time I’m ordering dinner at the Gray Gull.” He heard himself say Gray
Gull the way locals did, as if it were one word, with the stress on gray, not gull. I been here awhile, Jesse thought.
I’m beginning to be local. “It couldn’t be gulls?”
Molly said. “No.” “How do they know?” “They know,” Jesse said.
“There’s evidence of blunt trauma on her body, but nothing that couldn’t have
come from being rolled against rocks by the surf.” “Oh. Well if she did come
off a yacht, it’s strange no one has reported her missing.” “No one seems to have
reported her missing, yacht or no yacht,” Jesse said. “We got five missing
persons in the Northeast that could be her,” Molly said. “Except none of the
dental IDs match.” Jesse wore blue jeans and
sneakers and a short-sleeved white police chief shirt, with the badge pinned
to the shirt pocket. He carried the snub-nosed .38 that he’d brought with him
from The phone rang and Molly
took it and said, “Yes ma’am. We’ll have someone check right on it.” She
wrote nothing down, and when she hung up she took no further action. “Mrs. Billups?”
Jesse said. Molly nodded. “Says there’s a man she
doesn’t recognize walking past her house. He looks sinister.” “How many is that so far
this month?” “Four,”
Molly said. “And this year?” “Oh God,”
Molly said, “infinity.” “Mrs. Billups
hasn’t got much else to occupy her,” Jesse said. “Who’s on patrol?” “Suit.” “Have him
drive slowly past her house,” Jesse said. “There’s nothing there, Jesse.” “I know,
and you know. But Mrs. Billups doesn’t know.” “You are awful
tenderhearted,” Molly said, “for a guy who banged Carl Radborn
in the balls with a stick.” “She’ll peek out the window
when she sees the patrol car,” Jesse said. “Have Suit give her a little wave.
Maybe a thumbs-up.” Molly shook her head
in slow disapproval, but she turned as she did so, and called Simpson on the
radio. “Go do another Mrs. Billups drive-by,” she said. “Oh shit, Molly, that old
biddy sees things every day.” Jesse leaned into the microphone. He said, “Serve and
protect, Suit.” There was silence for
a minute, then Simpson said, “Aye, aye, skipper.” Jesse went into the
squad room in back and got two coffees and brought one in for Molly. “If you’re missing
from a town or a city, people might not notice right away,” Jesse said. “But
a yacht?” “So she’s probably not
off one of the yachts.” “Or, if she is, people
don’t wish it known,” Jesse said. “Which
would mean that someone murdered her.” “Or that someone
doesn’t want anyone to know she was on the yacht.” Molly nodded. “Like somebody else’s
wife,” she said. “Or a hooker, or a
juror in a pending civil trial, or something neither of us can think of.” “There’s nothing
neither of us can think of,” Molly said. “Except who the
floater is.’, “ME can’t give you anything?” “Sure they can,” Jesse said. He
looked at the ME’s initial report. “Floater was about
thirty-five. Alive she was about five-seven, probably weighed a hundred and
thirty pounds. Brown eyes, natural brunette. She was wearing an expensive
dress and silk underwear when she died. She had been drinking. She showed
traces of cocaine, and she was a smoker. Her breasts had been enhanced. She
was alive when she went in the water. She was not a virgin.” “No kidding.” “Just running down the
list, Moll,” Jesse said. “She had never had children.” “We could start
checking with plastic surgeons,” Molly said. “See if any enhancement patients
are missing.” “If it were done by a
plastic surgeon,” Jesse said. “Any MD can do this kind of surgery.” “But most intelligent
people wouldn’t go to an allergist or somebody,” Molly said. “Would you?” “For breast
enhancement?” Jesse said. “You know what I
mean,” Molly said. Another call came in.
Molly answered and listened and wrote down an address. “Okay, Mr. Bradley,”
she said. “I’ll have an officer there in a few minutes. Call back if there’s
any problem. And stay away from the animal.” “Rabid animal?” Jesse
said. “Skunk. Guy working on
a roof up on “Suit should have
saved Mrs. Billups by now. Have him go up and shoot
the skunk.” “What if it’s not
really rabid?” Molly said. “Family can sue us.” Molly called Simpson.
When she was through she turned back to Jesse. “Do people like
urologists really do plastic surgery?” “They may legally do
so,” Jesse said. “Some people don’t know one doctor from another. In the
white coat they all look the same.” “A woman wearing silk
underwear would know,” Molly said. Jesse grinned. “Depends who bought
the underwear,” he said. “Still, odds are it
would be a plastic surgeon. I can make some calls.” “Sure,” Jesse said.
“If we’re lucky, maybe she did them around here.” “Of course,” Molly
said. “She could have driven here from “Except we haven’t
found any abandoned vehicles,” Jesse said. “Or someone was with
her and threw her in and drove away.” “Or she’s a space
alien,” Jesse said. “Or, just shut up,”
Molly said. “I am the chief law
enforcement officer of “Of course,” Molly said. “I’m sorry . . . shut
up, sir.” “Thank you.” “Are they all through
with her?” Molly said. “The coroner? No, this
is a preliminary report. They’re still poking around.” “Ick,”
Molly said. “Cops don’t say ‘ick.” Molly laughed and
leaned over the desk and kissed Jesse on the forehead. “Do cops do that?”
Molly said. “Oh yeah,” Jesse said,
“most of them.” The phone rang again
and Molly answered, “Paradise Police,” while Jesse took the coroner’s report
back to his office. The excerpt shows through the
relationship between Jesse and Molly what an interesting boss Stone is. Sea
Change has topical material that is tawdry, but writing that entertains,
and characters that are worth a reader’s time. Steve Hopkins,
March 23, 2006 |
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Buy Sea
Change @ amazon.com |
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The recommendation rating for
this book appeared in the April 2006
issue of Executive Times URL for this review: http://www.hopkinsandcompany.com/Books/Sea
Change.htm For Reprint Permission,
Contact: Hopkins & Company, LLC • E-mail: books@hopkinsandcompany.com |
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