The Brutal Telling is a first-rate detective novel. The mystery is complex and well-plotted, while the beautiful Canadian scenery and charming characters breathe life into the story. It is a look into the very darkest corners of the human heart, a reminder that we never truly know what another person is capable of, or what secrets they may keep.

The book starts with a story, told in the dead of night by a crackling fire.

“Chaos is coming, old son, and there’s no stopping it. It’s taken a long time, but it’s finally here.”

It will be a long time before we know the whole story, or what Chaos is coming to this little village.

Chief Inspector Armand Gamache is head of the Sûreté du Québec. His team is called to the remote village of Three Pines to investigate a brutal murder: a body is found on the floor of the small bistro run by Olivier and Gabri. No one admits to knowing the victim, but it is clear he was murdered elsewhere and purposely dumped in the couple’s place of business. Who is the old man and why would someone target Olivier? Some residents of this picturesque village will become entangled in a web of lies as they try to hide their knowledge and their connection to the victim.

This is the fifth novel in the series, so some of you may already be familiar with the Chief Inspector, his moustache, his graying hair, his kind eyes. He is not the sort of detective to chase criminals through dark alleys; instead, he is a thoughtful man, well-read, cultured, with a keen ability to see through the masks that people wear. He understands that to solve a murder like this you don’t move forward, you move back, back into the past to find the conflict that started it all. But how do you move at all when you cannot even identify the victim?

The novel is filled with wonderful characters. I was especially fond of Ruth and Rosa. Ruth is a curmudgeonly old poet, inclined to a few too many martinis and a lot of foul language. Rosa is a duck, and Ruth takes her everywhere. Old Mundin, and his wife — The Wife, no one knows her real name — and their tiny son, Charles. The Parras – Roar and Hanna and their teenaged son, Havoc. (What a terrific name for a young man.) Agent Morin, the young fellow who works up the courage to ask the famous inspector if he might join in the investigation…and is rewarded for his bravado. There is also Clara, perhaps my favorite character. Clara faces the sort of moral dilemna where we all want to believe we would be brave and stalwart. It would be so easy to turn a deaf ear — but would the guilt eat her alive? And is it worth all she would be risking?

The Gilberts – Marc and Dominique and mother-in-law Carole – gave up their big-city existence to escape the stress and came to Three Pines to open a hotel and spa. They bought the old Hadley house, the site of an earlier tragedy, and turned it into a luxurious vacation spot. But there are plenty of small-town rivalries to deal with; trying to hire away Olivier and Gabri’s staff is not going to make them any friends. They don’t quite grasp the dynamics of running competing businesses in a small town, and by the time someone points out their missteps, it might be too late.

Throughout the novel, I was charmed by Gamache’s thoughtful methods and his understanding of people and the things that move them. His second in command, Beauvoir, is a perfect foil. He’s more earthy, and even though he knows the value of the Inspector’s methods, he is sometimes frustrated and eager to act. Due to the nature of the investigation, the book is full of history and culture — art and poetry and music — and glowing descriptions of the beautiful Canadian wilderness.

As far as he could see there were mountains rising from the water, covered in dark forest. He could see an island and fishing boats. Overhead, eagles soared. the men walked onto the beach which was covered in pebbles and shells and stood silent for a few minutes, listening to the birds and the lapping water and smelling the air with that combination of seaweed and fish and forest.

The Brutal Telling is the fifth novel in the series and it is sure to send you looking for the first four (which I already have on request from my local library). You can read more about Louise Penny’s work at her website, LouisePenny.com. I received my review copy free through the LibraryThing Early Reviewer Program.

“And I know that you were born in Laramie, Wyoming, and that your mother died while she carried you and you were born by caesarian section and your father and your two uncles, who were your mother’s brothers, raised you.”

“Me and Macbeth,” I said.

“Not of woman born,” Susan said. “But that’s all I know.”

I have long been a fan of John Sanford’s “Prey” series, featuring Lucas Davenport of the Minnesota Bureau of Criminal Apprehension. In this book, Sanford focuses on a different member of the BCA, Virgil Flowers, with the same excellent results.

Virgil arrives in the tiny town of Bluestem in a rush of rain and fire – he’s speeding through a driving rainstorm and his first stop is a massive blaze on the outskirts of town. The home of the town’s wealthiest resident is a ball of fire and all the indications are arson. But that’s not why Virgil has come to town – he’s here to lend a hand with an unsolved murder; Russell and Anna Gleason, a retired doctor and his wife, were shot to death in their own home, the doctor posed in the front yard with his eyes shot out. The investigation winds its way through decades-old rumors of wild sex parties, fundamentalist preachers, meth labs and small town politics, leaving Virgil wondering if the killer is someone close to him – perhaps very close indeed.

I thought that Sanford captured the dynamics of a small town very well. The way that histories intermingle and everyone knows everyone’s business is very different from investigating a crime in the city. Even the politics within the sherriff’s department rang true. (I’m a small town girl and my father is on the town council in my home town, so I get to hear a lot of stories.) Even the complicated loyalties that develop when friends and neighbors have known each other for generations are perfectly portrayed.

There are some plot holes. Virgil talks to anyone and everyone about the case, and although he explains it as an investigative tactic, I have to think that he’d get himself fired in the first week if he really played so fast and loose with the details. One key point (a gun found in a shoe) is never completely explained and a local woman finds online a piece of information that the police researcher needs a court order to obtain. Like Lucas Davenport, Virgil is a real Renaissance Man – an outdoorsman, hunter, writer, photographer and investigator; almost too good to be true. Still, the story provides enough meat and enough twists and turns to be a very pleasant read. Or listen, in my case, since I picked this up on audiobook and it managed to provide a couple of “driveway moments.” Sanford fans shouldn’t miss this one. You can order your copy on on Amazon.com.

I have been reading Spenser novels for a long time – a very long time. It’s gotten to the point that not a lot of people remember the old Spenser: For Hire tv series with Robert Urich and Avery Brooks. (When I read a Spenser novel, I still hear Brooks’ voice whenever Hawk speaks.) On the whole, I have been a huge fan of the series. Spenser is an interesting hero, a guy who thinks a lot about what makes him pursue the sort of work he does. He tries to do the right thing, even when the right thing isn’t easy or profitable. Hawk is just plain hot – strong, silent, smart and utterly lethal. They are surrounded by a cast of characters that reminds you just how fine the line is between good guy and bad guy.

Sadly, the series has been on the decline. It’s as if Parker has run out of storylines but can’t seem to let the series go. A few years ago, Spenser and Hawk staged an epic battle at a western ranch, surrounded by all the men who have made the series great. That would have been an excellent final story.

Hundred Dollar Baby is a bit better than some of the recent entries. There isn’t anything new, but the stuff that’s reworked isn’t too bad. We’re almost working on a second generation of clients with April Kyle making another appearance. She was a 15 year old hooker/runaway when Spenser first tried to save her. She wouldn’t go home, wouldn’t stay in foster care, so Spenser turned her over to Patricia Utley, a high-end New York madam. Not a great option, but better than a lot of teenage prostitutes probably get. Now she’s all grown up, running a whorehouse of her own and once again, she’s in trouble with a man (the third time for this book series) and she needs Spenser to get her out. He’s at his best when cases require a lot of muscle and leave him in morally murky waters.

The story is perfectly predictable, if you’ve read more than 3 of the earlier novels, but I love Spenser and Hawk and I don’t mind knowing where the story is leading. It’s a pleasant bit of nostalgia for Spenser fans, but that’s really all you’ll get from it.