Kids and killers; TV, taxes and towns

MYSTERIES

The missing-child story has been done so often that it takes something extraordinary to make it rise above the commonplace.

And that is what John Hart has accomplished in his third novel, The Last Child (394 pages, Minotaur Books, $24.95).

A year ago, Johnny Merrimon's twin sister, Alyssa, vanished while walking home from school in their eastern North Carolina town when their dad failed to pick her up. Now 13, Johnny lives with his damaged mother, Katharine. Alyssa has never been found, and dad Spencer has disappeared. But Johnny is determined to learn Alyssa's fate; he often ditches school to investigate the town's residents, checking off houses from his town map and putting a special mark by the ones inhabited by "bad men."

Meanwhile, police detective Clyde Hunt has never given up on the case, to the detriment of his own life. When another girl goes missing, tensions abound, and Johnny, Clyde and a large, mentally slow black man, Levi Freemantle, all play a role in the shocking conclusion.

But Hart, a North Carolina lawyer, is not content to simply tell a story. "The Last Child" -- like its predecessors -- is above all a novel about families, particularly broken ones; each of the families in this engrossing novel are suffering in profound ways, and Hart tells their stories with great sympathy.

Nor does he ignore America's original sin -- slavery -- as he ties the Merrimons and the Freemantles together. Indeed, it is Levi Freemantle's plight, and his struggle to rise above it and help others, that makes "The Last Child" so terribly moving.

In the end, this is a novel about blood -- the blood of life and death, the blood of kin, the blood of the past. And Hart has again brought forth a mystery/thriller that surpasses the humdrum and rises to serious literature.

. . .

One plot is good, two are better, and three -- well, three might be too hot to handle.

But not if you're John Sandford, your talent continues to grow and your hero is Lucas Davenport. Wicked Prey (403 pages, Putnam, $7.95) is the 19th entry in Sandford's "Prey" series.

It late summer of 2008, and Republicans are gathering in Minnesota's Twin Cities to nominate John McCain for the presidency. But there's trouble aplenty for Davenport, a top gun in the Minnesota Bureau of Criminal Apprehension. A gang of professional robbers (and killers) is targeting cash-rich lobbyists who have come to the convention -- as they did to the Democrats' convention in Denver two weeks earlier -- to grease numerous palms. The Secret Service has its eyes on an Oklahoma redneck who might be plotting to assassinate McCain. And Davenport's foster daughter, Letty West, is being targeted by a sicko who blames Davenport for his paralysis.

As the three threads intertwine, Davenport is bounced from crisis to crisis as Sandford weaves his trademark web of suspense, with a flawed but heroic protagonist, credible villains and prose -- with an occasional infusion of humor -- that keeps the reader flipping the pages.

Taut with tension, this sleek and disquieting novel displays Sandford at his best, with Davenport the cop and Davenport the family man in top form.

. . .

The Ober-prolific British writer Robert Barnard (39 novels and two collections of short stories) has long laid to rest the notion that quantity and quality cannot co-exist. With expert plotting, he has established himself as a major contributor to the genre.

His latest, The Killings on Jubilee Terrace (256 pages, Scribner, $24), offers further confirmation of his talents. "Jubilee Terrace" is a popular prime-time soap opera rife with conflict among the cast. When a loathsome actor is murdered, Detective Inspector Charlie Peace is given command of the case after the dim-witted but arrogant Superintendent Birnley makes a pig's breakfast of it.

Charlie, whose steadfastness is hard to match and whose intuitive powers serve him well, had previously received an anonymous letter about another actor's death, though it had been attributed to a traffic accident. Two demises, though, have Charlie wondering just how much life might be imitating soap-opera art. All comes right, of course, but not before Charlie must separate fact from fiction, real life from suds.

With his trademark final-pages twist -- an emotional as well as an intellectual stunner -- Barnard again leaves the reader breathless. Add his witty prose and a wicked sense of humor, and you have a novel that should achieve the highest ratings.

. . .

There's a body in the pantry, a body in the pond and a body in the attic. And here to investigate is Victoria Trumbull, the intrepid 92-year-old heroine of Cynthia Riggs' series set on Martha's Vineyard.

Death and Honesty (240 pages, Minotaur Books, $23.95) is the eighth installment in Riggs' string of mysteries, all named for varieties of plants. This time out, Victoria, a poet as well as a special police deputy, must deal with three crooked tax assessors (all septuagenarian women), a predatory evangelist, the evangelist's wife (a former call girl) and a rooster that won't shut up,

With her trademark tenacity, Victoria susses out the killer as Riggs weaves the plot threads together into a credible whole.

Victoria is the epitome of Yankee rectitude and fortitude; with each novel, she becomes more endearing. And Riggs -- a 13th-generation islander -- writes with Yankee ingenuity and dry humor, creates realistic characters and has a good ear for dialogue. She's a perfect tour guide for an armchair excursion to the Vineyard.

. . .

Is she a runaway bride, or is she dead? That's the question in Elizabeth J. Duncan's touching and well-crafted debut novel, The Cold Light of Mourning (277 pages, Minotaur Books, $24.95).

Meg Wynne Thompson, a smart and attractive Londoner, is set to marry Emyr Gruffydd, the handsome heir to an estate in the village of Llanelen in northern Wales. But after getting a manicure on the morning of her wedding from Penny Brannigan, Meg Wynne vanishes. Penny, an expatriate Canadian in her early 50s, senses something amiss, and it's not long before the case takes a particularly nasty turn.

Duncan sows the ground with plenty of suspects and clues in a novel that approaches the standard of British whodunits of the Golden Age. And she does so with a depth of characterization that enriches her story, as Penny helps the police solve the case.

An admirable and appealing first effort, "The Cold Light of Mourning" combines a worthy plot, a congenial heroine and a sure sense of place -- Duncan's depiction of village life is spot on -- to produce a story that nears perfection. Readers will want to see more of Penny -- and more of Duncan's pleasing prose.

Contact Jay Strafford at (804) 649-6698 or .