Tales of suspense, unfolded slowly

October 25, 2009|Hallie Ephron

Not every good crime novel is supercharged. Emily Arsenault’s debut book, “The Broken Teaglass,’’ takes its own good time. The unlikely heroes are a pair of young lexicographers. Self-proclaimed “clod’’ Billy Webb and his work mate, the diminutive Mona Minot, live in Claxton, a fictional Massachusetts town, headquarters of the Daniel Samuelson dictionary company. There a staff of eccentrics works diligently to keep the tome up to date and answer bizarre customer questions. Billy’s mentor, Dan Wood, illustrates the kind of always polite response to give to the typically inappropriate query: “I’m afraid I can’t tell you which spelling, Judgment Day or Judgement Day, is more appropriate for the tattoo you plan to receive.’’

To keep up with changing word usage, staffers jot examples from literature on cards. These citations are stored in wooden file drawers and go back hundreds of years. Among them, Mona and Billy discover a “cit’’ from a book titled “The Broken Teaglass’’ by Dolores Beekmim published in 1985. The work seems to refer to a crime set, improbably, right there at Samuelson Co.

Intrigued, Mona and Billy find more cits, each one containing another paragraph of the story. When the whole is assembled, answers to a long-unsolved crime are revealed, and our two heroes find themselves and each other.

There is “a certain elegance,’’ to quote one of the characters in this winningly unique novel, “to a story that’s meant to be revealed slowly, in fragments, to give its readers little pause, a little . . . caution.’’ This is one for readers who revel in words.

Another leisurely told tale is Ruth Rendell’s 22d Chief Inspector Wexford novel, “The Monster in the Box.’’ Years ago, Wexford became convinced that a cocky, barrel-chested local named Targo was responsible for a series of murders. Brazen in his belief that he couldn’t be caught, Targo had stared at Wexford, stalked him, given him conspiratorial smiles. But Wexford had been unable to find any motive or evidence connecting Targo with the victims. When Targo moved away, Wexford reluctantly followed his daughter’s sage advice: Visualize a box and close the monster inside it.

But this monster won’t stay boxed. Wexford spots Targo again, walking a dog in his neighborhood, and soon there’s another strangled victim. In his gut, Wexford knows Targo is responsible. This time, he vows, “Whatever it takes, I will get him.’’