Firestorm, but
Iris Johansen. A Book Review
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For years, my closest friends, also mystery fiends have
urged me to read Johansen. After a windfall of books that included one of her
novels came my way, I eagerly picked up the book.
The first chapter reminded me of the opening scene of Legal Eagles, which is one of my
favorite movies. A young girl awakes to
fire, a horrible fire, and loses her mother.
Fast forward and years later, she is an arson investigator, who is a
little psychic. Shades of Medium, another favorite, albeit on TV.
We meet the murderer/rogue govt. agent/arsonist from the
beginning. So, we don’t wonder about
“Who done it?” Yet, as the novel
progresses, it is the violence and the fiery murders that become the real
characters and runaway with the action.
The murder’s motives are not convincing; he isn’t the kind
of pyromaniac I met up with in my days of working in law offices. In fact, some
of them are pretty unassuming. I sat in
a locked conference room facing one down, and I asked point blank, “did you do
it?” Oh, no, of course not!” he
insisted, all innocent and doe-eyed. We
ended up not taking the case; a few months later, he was arrested and guess
what!!?? He did it and then some. Other
than the evidence that buried him, there was no initial clue that he was a fire
bug. Just a nice, average guy that liked
to set fires and leave.
The story is masterful, and she is one of the most
successful authors in her genre, but the characters are cardboard, they go up
in flames in more ways than one. If you
forgive the pun that dies and is resurrected into analogy, the characters are
just fuel for the flames. They go up
like Birdie, the hapless celluloid doll set on fire and murdered by the evil,
but gorgeous Marchpane in Godden’s The
Dolls’ House, or like the little paper ballerina who immolates herself on
the remains of Hans Christian Anderson’s “Brave Tin Soldiers.”
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