Book review: 'Evidence' has sex, murder, revenge and eco-terrorism

Book: Evidence
Jonathan Kellerman
Hachette
441 pages
Rs295

Two bodies are found in the tower of an unfinished Los Angeles mansion: a man on top of a woman, her skirt pushed above her hips, and his pants pulled down to his knees. Hardened LAPD detective Milo Sturgis and his psychologist friend Alex Delaware are called in.

The only evidence they find is semen on the woman’s thigh. The only identification on the bodies is the business card of the male victim — eco-friendly architect Desmond Backer.

The detective and the psychologist trace Backer’s firm, and discover that it had recently been dissolved. The only thing they know for sure is that Backer was notorious for his sexual prowess. He had slept with all but one woman in the firm, and each tryst took place at a deserted construction site.

The suspects are unrelated: an ex-lover and her invalid husband, an international prince, and an old man who claims to own the mansion where the murders were committed. As the investigation reaches a dead end, Sturgis calls in favours from friends in other law enforcement units, including Homeland Security and the FBI.

Evidence picks up pace in the second half. After the FBI and an anonymous tipper give Sturgis some leads, the plot starts taking shape. As Sturgis digs deeper into Backer’s past, he finds that the victim, who had seemed like a harmless Casanova, was also a wannabe eco-terrorist. What emerges is a lethal cocktail of international conspiracy, arson, blackmail and eco-terrorism.

Sturgis is a tough cop with a sardonic sense of humour. Sample this. When Delaware suggests the anonymous tipper sounded fearful, Sturgis responds wryly: “Too scared to use his own phone and leave a name, gee thanks. And just to keep you current, my most weak-willed judge said nyet to subpoenaing the Holman’s financials so its air sandwich for brunch.”

Kellerman’s writing style is matter-of-fact, and at times almost philosophical.

For instance, during an interrogation, Sturgis asks a foreign national about a weekend away. She replies: “I engaged in tourism. The great lifeblood of American pseudo-culture… I have been to Disneyland as well… It was quite pleasing in its own repugnant way. Consistent. With a world devoid of reason.”

Delaware tags along with Sturgis as a psychological profiler, serving as a tool for showcasing Kellerman’s expertise in clinical psychology. Delaware is mostly just Sturgis’s sounding board for ideas, but as the narrator, he explains characters, motives and Sturgis’s interrogation strategies. Crime explained by a psychologist is, after all, a fail-safe formula for a thriller.