The Old Silent by Martha Grimes: A review

The Old Silent by Martha Grimes
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Continuing my reading trip through the Martha Grimes series featuring Superintendent Richard Jury of New Scotland Yard, I have arrived at the tenth entry, The Old Silent. So, I'm not quite to the halfway mark yet in a series that extends, to this point, to twenty-three books.

The series has evolved quite a lot since its beginning. Sgt. Wiggins has become a more fully fleshed-out and sympathetic character. Brian Macalvie, the stubborn District Superintendent who never gives up on a case, sometimes returning to a years-old crime to solve it and who, it seems, is never wrong, has become a returning character in these stories. And we've become more familiar with all the residents of the sleepy little village of Long Piddleton, especially amateur detective Melrose Plant. All in all, it is a good mix of interesting characters, enough to keep the reader involved and invested in the outcome.

In this book, we see Richard Jury somewhat at the end of his tether, exhausted and overworked. He's doing a bit of lollygagging and engaging in one of his favorite activities, observing a beautiful woman. The woman in question seems distracted and is unaware of his presence as he shadows her around the little village where they are. He follows her to the local pub, The Old Silent, and watches her meet a man there. They appear to argue and as the man turns to leave, the woman stands and shoots him dead. All of a sudden, Richard Jury has become a witness to murder. Or is it? Are there extenuating circumstances?

As Jury begins to look into the case, we learn of a crime that occurred eight years before, involving the disappearance of two young boys, one of whom was the son of the man killed and stepson of the woman who shot him. Jury suspects early on that the killing of the father is somehow related to the disappearance of the son.

It proved to be the case that one of the early investigators on the disappearance of the boys was a young Macalvie. He was soon booted off the case because he offended his superiors - something which he routinely does. But the case was never solved and, of course, he has never forgotten it nor given up on it. He soon becomes involved with Jury's investigation and at the same time the bones of a teenage boy and a dog are discovered buried in a disused area of the local cemetery. Macalvie is convinced that they are the bones of the missing son/stepson, even though the pathologist says the age of the bones is wrong. Silly pathologist! He should know not to argue with Macalvie.

The investigation proceeds on multiple fronts. Jury becomes involved in and intrigued by a popular rock band, particularly a young guitarist/vocalist in the band, with a possible connection to the crime(s). This leads him and Sgt. Wiggins down some interesting pathways and we learn more about Wiggins' encyclopedic knowledge of music, one of his many surprising talents.

Melrose Plant becomes involved when he visits the village where the killing occurred, rescues a cat and takes it to the local vet where he sees the formidable Abby Cable, a young girl who has come there to pick up the dead body of her own cat. We suspect immediately that Abby is going to become central to this story and that Plant, who always seems to have the role of interacting with children and animals, is going to appoint himself to the role of her guardian angel.

As always, Martha Grimes does a good job of developing the plot and leading the reader through her paces with her vivid descriptions of characters and her well-written dialogues. Still, in spite of the fact that she is pretty straightforward in telling the story, she manages to pull off a surprise at the end, even though she had given us an important clue and fair warning earlier in the book.

This series has been pretty consistently good throughout and this particular entry certainly continues to uphold that standard. I wouldn't say it is one of her best, but it does rank pretty highly and makes me eager to read number eleven to find out just where these characters are going.

View all my reviews

Poetry Sunday: Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver

How about we share another Mary Oliver poem? After all, you can never have too many of those. In this one, the poet seems to acknowledge that it is often hard to simply live in and enjoy the moment, perhaps because we are afraid it can't last. She urges us to give in to that moment and fully experience the joy. Although "much can never be redeemed, still, life has some possibility left." Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is no...

Poetry Sunday: Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney

My mother was a farm wife and a prodigious canner. She canned fruit and vegetables from the garden, even occasionally meat. But the best thing that she canned, in my opinion, was blackberry jam. Even as I type those words my mouth waters! Of course, before she could make that jam, somebody had to pick the blackberries. And that somebody was quite often named Dorothy. I think Seamus Heaney might have spent some time among the briars plucking those delicious black fruits as well, so he would have known that "Once off the bush the fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour." They don't keep; you have to get that jam made in a hurry! Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust ...

Poetry Sunday: Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman

You probably remember poet Amanda Gorman from her appearance at the inauguration of President Biden. She read her poem "The Hill We Climb" on that occasion. After the senseless slaughter in Uvalde this week, she was inspired to write another poem which was published in The New York Times. It seemed perfect for the occasion and so I stole it in order to feature it here, just in case you didn't get a chance to read it in the Times . Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman Everything hurts, Our hearts shadowed and strange, Minds made muddied and mute. We carry tragedy, terrifying and true. And yet none of it is new; We knew it as home, As horror, As heritage. Even our children Cannot be children, Cannot be. Everything hurts. It’s a hard time to be alive, And even harder to stay that way. We’re burdened to live out these days, While at the same time, blessed to outlive them. This alarm is how we know We must be altered — That we must differ or die, That we must triumph or try. ...

The Nature of Things

Search This Blog