Kirk Russell's A Killing in China Basin is a fairly recent crime novel set in San Francisco, and I'd like to recommend it to you. There's an engaging central character--veteran homicide inspector Ben Raveneau--compelling supporting characters, a handful of suspects, and the City By The Bay. There are many crime novels and mysteries set in San Francisco, but this one has Inspector Raveneau and, significantly, an unassuming energy that builds and builds, a steady relentlessness that should engage and provoke you to read further and further.
Rather than offer a summary or even a teaser about the central concerns of the novel, I am going to share a taste, a sense of the texture. With this second reading of Russell's novel, I'm most struck by the rich characterization; the spare, focused descriptions; and the interplay between the characters, captured in dialogue and in silence, in what's unsaid. This passage, however, offers an entry into the main character's evolving sense of self and humility through a reflection on clothing, on what to wear to work.
(La Rosa is Raveneau's new partner, a much younger rising star in the department.)
Like a true cop, La Rosa read the arrest article first, and he made coffee. Though it was Saturday and the office empty but for one interview underway, la Rosa had dressed in a coffee-colored suit and shoes to match. Maybe that was for an anticipated meeting with Lafaye, but who knew whether Lafaye was even in town. He got the impression from the website and everything else that popped up on Google that Lafaye traveled a lot. Seeing her nice clothes reminded him of a period of several years when he'd worn nice suits every day and told people that it was out of respect for the dead.
But that respect for the dead had also coincided with when he was most full of himself. Looking back now, he figured he'd known a few very good inspectors and some very bad ones and the clothing hadn't made anyone better or worse. Some of the bad inspectors had dressed immaculately yet couldn't find a soldier on an army base.
The good ones connected to some pulse running through everyone. One of the very best had taken him aside at a retirement party and walked him out into a warm May night on a patio to tell him, 'Dump the expensive suits, you don't need them. I've been watching you and you're the real deal, but you're missing details because you're spending too much time trying to keep coffee off your tie.'
At some point after trying to live larger than he was, Raveneau had figured it out. He sipped the coffee now . . . .
Kirk Russell, A Killing in China Basin, Severn House Publishers, Ltd: Sutton, Surrey, England, 2011--from pages 77-78.
I've just ordered the second Ben Raveneau thriller: Counterfeit Road.
Kirk Russell is also the author of four John Marquez eco-crime novels, and I recommend those books highly. In fact, Shell Games is a particular favorite; that novel begins with murder and abalone poaching on the northern California coast . . . .
Postscript:
The badge isn't quite right to fit the story, as it's a sergeant's badge, #1, for the City of Richmond, not an inspector's badge, not for San Francisco. That's my dad's badge, the retirement version earned through thirty years of service.
This Thursday will be the eighth anniversary of his death. Rest easy, Dad, rest easy.
