I'm beginning to notice a trend in some mysteries lately. The
protagonists --- the good guys, in most cases --- are aging
gracefully, not going gently into any good nights or any bad ones,
either, but staying active and keeping their hands in. I've reached
the age and station in life where I like reading about old guys
kicking butt, chasing skirts, and basically showing the younger
generation how the job gets done. Jonathan Nasaw includes this
element in his latest novel, TWENTY-SEVEN BONES, so he met the
burden right out of the block. Even without the seasoned citizen
element, however, this bad boy would be a winner.
Nasaw's protagonist, E.L. Pender, is an old guy, closer to 60 than
to 50, and if he has six-pack abs they're buried at the bottom of
the shopping cart. The great part about Pender is that he is a
believable old guy. He is a retired FBI Special Agent, but he's
past the stage where he is involved in car chases or initiating
explosions. I can't remember him firing his gun or even hitting
anyone (he does hit on someone, but that's another story). He can
still get the job done, however, as is amply demonstrated in
TWENTY-SEVEN BONES.
TWENTY-SEVEN BONES finds Pender chafing under the collar of his
retirement, engaging in too much eating and drinking and too little
thinking and doing. A voice from the past, however, provides him
with a respite from his boredom. Julian Coffee, an old friend and
former colleague of Pender's, is the police chief of the Caribbean
island of St. Luke. St. Luke, a fictitious combination of the U.S.
Virgin Islands, is an otherwise idyllic vacation spot that is being
despoiled by the presence of a serial killer who mutilates each
victim by cutting off their right hand.
Pender agrees to a working vacation of sorts, going back into FBI
mode while investigating