Over almost a quarter of a century, Kay Scarpetta (MD, Attorney, would-be chef at a posh Ristorante Italiano) has seen her career steam merrily ahead, crash and burn, turn into a gun for hire, and - finally - culminate in her appointment as chief of a high-tech crime lab (associated with what? one wonders) in the middle of metropolitan Boston. Nice work if you can get it.
In the same twenty-four years, Scarpetta's relationship with Benton Wesley (or is it Wesley Benton? I always forget) has progressed from "the other woman" to lover to quasi-widow to a print version of Pam Ewing waking up to find Bobby in the shower to who's-his-face's happily-married spouse. She's dragged her anti-authoritarian lesbian paranoid genius niece, Lucy, and the brutish cop Marino every step of the way.
To all that, I say, "Give it a rest, Kay!"
Scarpetta's phone rings, as Scarpetta's phone is wont to do, in the wee small hours. It's Marino, now a detective with the local PD, and there's been a murder. Recovering from the physical stress of the flu and the emotional stress of three days spent in the abattoir that was Sandy Hook Elementary, Scarpetta is difficult to coax back into the saddle - but she dutifully climbs from her warm bed to examine the scene of a garden-variety body dump on the athletic fields at MIT. From the small world department: the dead woman's phone is one of niece Lucy's "special" models because she was working on some drone-related project with Lucy's… enterprise.
For some unknown reason Scarpetta intuits that she was killed by a psycho who has recently killed three women in DC, the same serial killer that Benton… Wesley… whoever has been profiling. Small world, indeed, especially when Lucy's chopper lands nearby and Mr. Scarpetta clambers out.
| Benton's been having a hard time in DC with a recalcitrant boss, which naturally means that Scarpetta will figure out that the boss had a hand in the murder. Huh? And Scarpetta will have to put up with Marino lusting for her still after all these years, Lucy and Marino sniping at each other, Feebs interfering (on purpose) with local cops, Marion's simmering jealousy of Shut up Wesley! and all the usual internecine wrangling. Oh, yeah, and somehow she'll intuit that this is all connected to a case she personally handled seventeen years ago. Yeah. Really. To all that I say, "Give it a rest, Patricia!" |
Twenty-one novels deep in her series featuring forensic pathologist Kay Scarpetta (The Scarpetta Factor, Predator, Trace), author Patricia Daniels remains mired in the funk that overtook her about the time her protagonist was drummed out of the office of the Virginia Medical Examiner. In Dust, Scarpetta manages to both recall those dark days and get herself a little revenge on her assistant (now retired), a querulous little martinet who hitched his star to the wrong rocket. But never mind.
Early Scarpetta novels were masterful works detailing the inner workings of forensics and pathology - about which everyone "knows" everything these days, thanks to the CSI franchises - that rightfully catapulted Cornwell to the top of the bestseller lists. Ever since Scarpetta "left RIchmond," however, the series has floundered. At times it appears that Cornwell's gotten her groove back, especially in Scarpetta (2008), but Dust resurrects all the personality conflicts and reality TV-like internal wrangling that brought down those earlier novels.
A mystery novel should consist of crime(s), clues, detection, discovery, and denouement. Recent Scarpetta novels comprise crime(s), personality conflicts, speculation, undocumented intuitive leaps, and denouement; all liberally sprinkled with inter-character sniping and squabbling. In Dust, Scarpetta intuits the crime's solution from a combination of a single clue and a heaping helping of personal animosity, a violation of the basic rules of crime fiction. My advice? avoid this installment in the series.
On the other hand, Scarpetta is kind and loving to her rescued greyhound, Sock - but that just ain't enough.
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