Doc Reviews “The Frozen Woman” by Jon Michelet

rfs1Finally finished this one. It’s not a massive book – quite slim, in fact, at 256 pages. In what may be a case of mistaken identity, a woman is murdered and dumped in the garden of a shady lawyer. We’re given a fairly decent bundle of clues as to who did it, but the why remains to be seen.
The book starts off with a bang, but bogs down after the first handful of chapters. Only once the reader is aware that the book may be reaching its climax does the pace pick up again. Another obstacle for me was the introduction of so many key figures throughout the book, and frankly, trying to juggle the two dozen Norwegian names was a task for me. I don’t recall having this issue with other Norwegian thrillers, but for some reason, in this one, I had a hard time keeping the characters straight in my head.
I will also fault the translator in somewhat, because the translator’s job is to do more than translate: there were a few jokes that probably fell flat because the wordplay didn’t bridge the languages. A good editor would have made suggestions to correct this.
Overall, an entertaining read, but at times it felt like a chore. On a scale of 1 to 10, Doc’s going to be kind and throw this one a B-. There’s a reason it’s not gotten any 5-star reviews on Amazon.

Doc Reviews “The Boy in the Suitcase” by Lene Kaaberbøl and Agnette Friis

cdDoc’s never reviewed a book by someone with an ø in their name. Excuse me while I just soak that in for a minute.

Doc’s been a fan of Scandinavian thrillers for close to 15 years now. The first Nesbø I picked up knocked me for a loop (but never reviewed, hence the opening paragraph.  Good try, dear reader). Mankell? Same story. There’s something dark, downright brooding about these novels; you find yourself soaking in the protagonist’s angst, and there’s always something in their personal lives that creep into the picture and make them a little more reflective than anything I’ve read from Lee Child, for example. Don’t fret, though, Lee – I still love your work.

“The Boy in the Suitcase” starts off like any other novel. Secretary to a wealthy son of a bitch jumps at his beck and call, fetches a suitcase full of naked drugged boy from a luggage locker in a Copenhagen train depot. Yawn. Nothing original here. Seriously, though, the action begins right on the first page, and never EVER lets up. Secretary freaks right on out, stuffs the suitcase back in the locker, and calls on our main protagonist, Nina Borg, to handle the situation. Nina is a Red Cross nurse and, by all appearances, can’t seem to let go of a mystery – she sees this through to the end, in spite of a lot of potential damage to herself, the boy, and her relationship with her children and husband.

The plot is simple – the three-year-old boy has been found, drugged, in a suitcase that had been planned for pickup by a wealthy cad in exchange for a large sum of money. When the exchange goes wrong (that is, when no money is left behind), the Lithuanian ogre who provided said child is less than pleased. Meanwhile, in addition to Nina, we’re also introduced to the mother of the child, who finds herself in a hospital, being tut-tutted by the staff for having obviously gone on a hell of a bender (blood alcohol level of 0.2+) in spite of the fact that she’s not a drinker, and hadn’t been drinking at all, and by the way, where’s her 3 year old son?

You and I know, dear reader, don’t we?

Through flashbacks, we slowly realize that there’s more than meets the eye to this case, and certainly something far more interesting than a simple episode of human trafficking. There’s a good deal of formulaic plot devices going on here, but there’s enough clever writing and twists to keep most of us wondering just what’s coming next. There are also nice touches of sympathetic communication with Denmark’s younger immigrant community forced into prostitution, which could easily have been foisted upon us as an unsavory touch of deus ex machina. Happily, everything fits snugly (but logically) into place as we proceed along toward a satisfying conclusion.

The book is not without its faults; there are simply some grossly illogical steps taken by a number of the actors, not least of which is our Red Cross nurse, Nina (who goes on to appear in at least two additional books after this one). For starters, we appreciate that one might not want to call the police to have the missing child whisked away back to a cold-blooded Russian or Ukrainian orphanage, but the child hasn’t been proven to be an orphan when this decision is made, nor has it shown to be from Russia or Ukraine (why these two countries were selected as the hotbed of child bartering is beyond me). When Nina finds her former friend bludgeoned to death because of her unfortunate proximity to the deal gone wrong, Nina just buckles down. No reason is offered, she just grits her teeth and says “Let’s do this.” Don’t let’s. It’s not realistic.

Then again, had she trotted off to the police, the book would not have been nearly as interesting, so we are to accept and appreciate Nina for all her flaws, as her beleaguered husband has by the end of the novel. A nicely wrapped present, with some crimps in the bow. We’ve read far worse.

On a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being a dumpster burger and 10 being filet mignon, Doc rates this chippy little thriller a solid “B”.