2002 mystery. In a small town in upstate New York, a child is left on
the church steps. A few days later, a young woman who's recently given
birth is found murdered in the snow…
But while this is a police procedural mystery of the "he's a cop,
she's not a cop" variety, it's mostly a character piece: Russ Van
Alstyne is the police chief, out of the Army and enthusiastic for the
quiet life, while Clare Fergusson is the new Episcopal priest in this
conservative town. (Which seems to mean not explicitly horrid, since
after all they allow women as priests, but still with a lot of
parishioners who give lip service to goodwill-to-all but don't let it
affect their own comfort.) It was her church steps the baby was left
on, so she immediately gets involved, and as both she and Van Alstyne
are ex-Army (she flew helicopters before she caught a dose of God)
they're able to talk to each other in a way that they can't with most
of the townspeople.
And this is where I start to feel a bit edgy. There's an obvious and
immediate true friendship here, and a potential romantic spark too.
Van Alstyne is married (though his wife Linda isn't on the page), and
they decide not to do anything about it. All that's fine. But I can't
help noticing the implications around these relationships; Linda runs
a business (selling custom curtains), and she's away from home
working on the business, which is making money, unlike Fergusson
who's always there in the church or the rectory, and cooks like a
master chef. It's not that I don't believe in the possibility of a
woman like Linda who might be favouring her business over her
marriage; but she's the only woman we meet in this situation, and
since it's obviously going to be her destiny to be got out of the way
to allow the One True Pairing I can't help wishing that this aligned
less exactly with the worldview that women must always be homemakers
first while men can do whatever they like.
Combine with that: the plot deals with some people who've lived their
lives on welfare. Van Alstyne is conventionally contemptuous;
Fergusson tries to be more understanding. But the people we meet
slot straight into the stereotype, with a bonus fat-shaming.
I enjoyed reading about these characters, and about their solving of
the mystery, but I kept getting hooked out of my immersion. It's a
small town, and both of them are surprised that there's gossip when
her car was outside his house all might. (For completely innocent
reasons of course.) She wasn't expecting this much snow, fair enough,
but she doesn't take half an hour out of this multi-day story to buy
some suitable boots. She gets a message that's more or less "meet me
by the old well at midnight" and makes no effort at all to let anyone
know where she's going.
And then there are moments of complete HUH WHA, such as:
"How come I've never seen any pinups in one of these workrooms?" she
asked. "I'd think that would be the perfect place for a little
cheesecake."
"Introducing the feminine would disrupt the whole Iron Male, sweat
lodge, men's-only aspect of the space, though," he said. "For
instance, what kind of calendar does your dad have in his workshop?"
"Uh… World War Two nose art."
"Nose art?"
"Paintings on the noses of planes. Please don't ask me to explain."
Ms Spencer-Fleming, have you ever seen WWII aircraft nose art? There
is, hmm, substantial overlap with "a little cheesecake".
As a result I can't recommend the book anything like whole-heartedly.
There are some jolly good bits, but they're mixed with moments of
out-of-character idiocy, and some assumptions I found hard to stomach.
I still haven't decided whether I'll read another in the series.
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