D is for Deadbeat by Sue Grafton
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

"There are laws for everything except the harm families do."

What a phenomenally insightful statement in a not-that-good book! In my view, Sue Grafton's "Alphabet Series" trajectory has so far followed an oscillating path: after very good A is for Alibi came considerably weaker B is for Burglar . Then came quite good C is for Corpse and now again a weak D is for Deadbeat (1987).

A man who introduces himself as Alvin Limardo hires Kinsey Millhone to deliver a $25k check to someone who had done him a favor in a time of trouble. I can't explain it, but when I saw the name on page 3 I immediately knew the name was not real. By the way, a Google search shows that there exists a Facebook account under that name; it might though be a homage to Ms. Grafton's novel. Anyway, the story continues: the check bounces, "Alvin Limardo" turns out not to be a real name, Kinsey gets another client and the complications begin.

The plot is rather interesting but, unfortunately, the writing is mostly quite uninspired and the conversations are psychologically implausible - in some places even ridiculously so. Amateur/pop psychology abound! Even worse, the way that the plot unfolds is quite far-fetched. People tell Kinsey too much: everybody seems to be eager to share their deepest innermost secrets with her (people weren't like that before this Facebook scam began, I happen to remember). Kinsey gets a lot of information from conveniently overhearing conversations, spying through windows, etc.

Jonah Robb appears again, which provides for a sort of romantic interlude in the plot. Yet Detective Robb is mostly a convenient crutch to move the plot. Through his acquaintance Kinsey learns various facts about her case thus giving the novel a sort of procedural component. In fact, I much prefer Billy Polo thread: Ms. Grafton is able to create some implicit erotic tension between him and Kinsey, despite their implausible conversations.

I much regret the unnatural dialogues because there are some good passages in the novel:

"The ocean was silver, the surf rustling mildly like a taffeta skirt with a ruffle of white."

or my favorite, other than the epigraph:

"I'm not an outdoor person at heart. I'm always aware that under the spiritely twitter of birds, bones are being crunched and ribbons of flesh are being stripped away, all of it the work of bright-eyed creatures without feeling or conscience. I don't look to nature for comfort or serenity."

Well said! I also like the vivid and mocking account of a funeral ceremony in a fundamentalist Christian church.

I would like to pull the rating up but I am unable to: the naive pop psychology of conversations in the novel is exasperating.

Two-and-a-quarter stars.

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