Sunset Express

A more developed version of this appears on my blog, Irresponsible Reader, as part of my Reread Project.
★ ★ ★ 1/2

There are two stories being told by Crais in this book – yes, interwoven and interdependent – but two stories. The fun one involves Lucy Chenier coming out to LA for work and to see Elvis. She brings along her son to make it a little family vacation. When Elvis gets the news, he becomes a different person than we've seen before – or at least a more intense version of something we saw in Voodoo River, but that's about it. He's a lovestruck fool – very clearly – and Crais does a great job of portraying him that way.

The story focusing on Elvis' professional life isn't nearly as fun, heartwarming or cute. Jonathan Green – high-profile attorney in the F. Lee Bailey, Robert Shapiro, Johnnie Cochran, etc. mold – and his team of associates (and a camera crew), hire Elvis to help with the defense in the trial of Teddy Martin. Teddy Martin's a celebrity restaurateur accused of the brutal murder of his wife – a pretty open and shut case, it seems. But Green's people are getting tips like crazy and they need additional investigators to comb through them. One of the more promising tips involves allegations of one of the detectives in the case planting evidence in previous cases. Elvis agrees to investigate Det. Angela Rossi and track down other tips, but insists he'll report the truth, not what will necessarily help the case – Green agrees to this, insisting that's all he wants. Elvis gets to work and finds some quick results. But it's not too long before he sees a stark discontinuity between what he finds ot about Rossi and other tips and how that information is being used by the defense.

Sunset Express is hindered by having one of those plots that people who read (or watch) a lot of detective novels will realize is problematic in a way the characters can't. Everything in Elvis' case moves along too smoothly. Now, in Lullaby Town and Voodoo River, for example, his investigation goes pretty smoothly, but you can tell that the plot complications are going to come from what happens as a result of his work. Here, you can tell there's something wrong with the answers he's finding. Yet, Elvis doesn't have our perspective, he can't tell he's getting yanked around. It's frustrating, just sitting around waiting for things to dawn on him so he can catch up to us.

Of course, Rossi knows Joe. They used to work together back when Joe was on the force, and as of this point in the series, she is the member of the LAPD that doesn't hate Joe. For more reasons than that, Joe respects her (although that can't hurt), so when things start to go off the rails for her, Joe insists that his partner step up and clear her name. Joe's not much help on the investigation front, but in the gun packing (and more), fast driving, and personal intensity departments? He's aces.

As Free Fall featured Elvis' reaction to/stance/meditation on L.A.'s racial divide and police corruption, this gives us his take on the manipulation of the legal system (and a healthy amount of support for the police – particularly in light of Free Fall). Elvis has understood the difference between the legal system and justice, and has worked outside (if not at odds with) the system before in the pursuit of justice. But this time, he was seeking justice – thought he'd helped various people find it – only to find his work, his self, his name used as a tool to twist the system into preventing justice being carried out. His ultimate solution to this problem is very effective, and would likely be far more effective today than it was 18(!!) years ago. Well done, Mr. Cole.