The Racketeer

by John Grisham

2012 

Malcolm Bannister was a small-town lawyer until a bad real estate deal connected him to a criminal conspiracy and landed him in federal prison for a crime he didn't (knowingly) commit. When a federal judge is murdered and the FBI has no leads, Malcolm reveals that he knows who killed him, but only if the government agrees to release him and give him full immunity and a new identity. What follows is an intricate game of leverage, deception, and revenge as Malcolm manipulates the FBI, federal prosecutors, and the real killers, all while concealing an even larger scheme of his own. Each revelation upends what seemed certain, and Malcolm proves himself several steps ahead of everyone trying to use him.

Grisham here moves from his typical milieu, the courtroom, to try his hand at the caper and confidence game, with mixed results. The novel is less concerned with legal arguments than with strategy, hidden motives, and carefully timed revelations. Malcolm is an intriguing narrator: intelligent, patient, and morally flexible. However, Grisham also occasionally switches to a third-person omniscient narrator, so he can keep various revelations hidden until it suits him, repeatedly forcing the reader to reassess what they thought they understood. The excitement in the novel comes from watching Malcolm outmaneuver institutions that believe they hold all the power. I wasn't overmuch impressed with this book, however. The secondary characters beyond Malcolm are more functional than memorable. Most FBI agents, prosecutors, and secondary figures exist primarily to move the machinery of the plot, and the emotional stakes never run especially deep. But the main reason for my lukewarm reception is that narly everything in the book strains credulity. The plot relies heavily on coincidence, unlikely events, and highly questionable reactions on the part of law enforcement. As Grisham writes in his author's note, "almost nothing in the previous 340 odd pages is based on reality." This is an understatement. It's a two-star plot, bumped to three stars due to Grisham's easy, readable style that keeps the pages turning.  

three stars 

IQ

by Joe Ide

In South Central Los Angeles lives Isaiah Quintabe, a 26-year-old African American man, whose brilliant mind justifies his initial-nickname of IQ. After his beloved older brother was killed in a hit and run, the young IQ drifted into illegal activities until he realized he could use his computer-like mind to solve the problems of people in his neighborhood, taking on cases the police won't or can't. IQ has known, as his spiritual godfather Sherlock did, the temptation of recreational drugs, and his understanding of the criminal mentality is based on experience. (His involvement in crime was typically idiosyncratic, stealing items like feline epilepsy strips with low security but high resale value.) But all this comes in flashbacks. Satisfyingly to us Sherlockians, the main plot line of this novel adapts some elements of The Hound of the Baskervilles: a superstar rapper, Calvin Wright, faces an attempted assassination by a 130-pound monster of a pit bull, who seems to have been bred by an enemy for murderous purpose. IQ uses street-smarts, near-perfect recall, and inductive reasoning to find answers to who is behind the threat. IQ's sidekick Dodson fills a Watson-like role, in that he does his part and is capable of providing backup in the form of a gun.

The setting, the voice, and the characters are all high points of the novel. Ide has a gift for sharp observations and memorable details (the rapper's belongings include "a bundle of rolled-up antique Persian prayer rugs from his two weeks as a practicing Muslim"), and the novel is packed with lines that are funny without feeling as though they are trying too hard to be funny. IQ feels grounded as a character, fleshed-out with his own foibles and weak spots. The flashbacks showing how he became who he is are often more compelling than the central mystery. The mystery itself is solid. Ide lays out the clues fairly, and the solution emerges logically rather than through arbitrary twists. Watching IQ think is consistently entertaining. At times, however, the novel stretches credibility. Some of Isaiah's movements through particularly hostile environments feel easier and safer than they ought to. As a non-black author, Joe Ide seems fairly oblivious to how carefully a young black man must perforce maneuver through certain white-dominated situations. I don't mean that IQ shouldn't be confident, but these scenes in particular don't ring true. I also thought that a few of the character interactions seem shaped more by the needs of the plot, or even slapstick, than by reality. I enjoyed the novel's portrait of a community, its exploration of grief and responsibility, and the chemistry between IQ and the exasperating, scheming Dodson. This isn't a brilliant book, but it's a novel take on an old trope, with an engaging protagonist and an ending that promises more.  

three stars