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After World War II, the formal social distinctions accorded to the nobility in Italy were officially abolished. But, for the most part, the nobility retained their holdings, their stature in their communities, and their desire to insure the preservation of their family legacies. Aaron Elkins' latest novel in his series featuring forensic anthropologist Gideon Oliver begins with one Italian nobleman's elaborate attempt to get around his wife's inability to produce a male heir.
In Anglo-American countries, the cultural memory of English King Henry VIII's ruthless but futile attempts to produce a viable male successor will make readers anticipate immediately that Domenico de Grazia's secretive attempt to produce an heir will have unintended and probably fatal consequences - if not for him, then for someone in his family or family tree. Indeed, when Domenico's teenaged grandson Achille is kidnapped some three decades later, it is not very surprising that the investigation of the crime uncovers a maze of de Grazia family secrets, including new revelations about Domenico's own death.
In this novel, Gideon Oliver is paired with the regional Carabinieri commander, Colonel Tullio Caravale. It is an equal pairing, with Gideon proving to be physically tougher than Caravale might have expected and Caravale proving to be intellectually quicker than Gideon might have expected. Elkins takes the time to establish Caravale's rather humble family background and then exploits the ways in which it provides a natural counterpoint to the de Grazias' pretensions. Likewise, by exploring some of the continuing, personal idiosyncrasies and insecurities of Caravale and Gideon, two professionally successful men, Elkins not only increases the reader's engagement in the process by which they determine the truth, but also finds another way to vary the rhythm of a narrative that includes much more talk than action, much more edgy conversation than violence.
The novel is set in Stresa and the surrounding region, on Lake Maggiore in the far north of Italy - essentially in the shadow of the Swiss Alps. Elkins very effectively conveys the great beauty of the natural landscape, the appeal of the tourist centers, the charms and the more decrepit aspects of the Italian towns located off the beaten track, and the grandeur of the great estates. He also adds much dimension to the novel by giving the reader some insight into the tensions that have long underlain the generally polite relationships between the aristocracy and the common people and into the conflicts that have more recently deepened over the development in the region of new upscale residential subdivisions, golf courses, and other symbols of transient affluence.
With considerable subtlety, Elkins shows how the two issues are interrelated but difficult to untangle. For instance, because Caravale resents the continuing privileges enjoyed by the aristocracy, he would be in favor of the social progress represented in a greater social and political egalitarianism and greater equality in economic opportunity, but he very much regrets the loss of undeveloped land and the commercialization of historical landmarks and cultural traditions that represent material progress. Although the changing landscape does, in part, represent a further exploitation of the region by the privileged, who need to find new ways to maintain their wealth, it also represents new and very real opportunities for common people to escape the grinding poverty that has been their ancestors' lot for generations. So Caravale's attitudes are deeply ambivalent and very difficult for him to sort out.
Gideon Oliver and his wife Julie travel to Italy to accompany their friend Phil Boyajian on one of the Pedal and Paddle Adventures that have evolved from Phil's highly successful series of On the Cheap travel guides. Gideon is much less enthused about "roughing it" than his wife and friend are, and there is a good deal of light humor in the running contrast. But Phil's excursion is not just the device that gets the Olivers to Italy. It turns out that he is a de Grazia relation and, furthermore, that, even though his excursion to Italy has accidentally coincided with Achille's kidnapping, the family secrets involve him much more than Gideon, Caravale, or Phil himself would ever have expected. Layered onto these plot elements is a somewhat quaint romance between Phil and a woman with whom he shared an unfulfilled infatuation many years earlier. Although Phil is an interesting character and Elkins carefully develops his involvement in this story, it is all a little too neat and a little too much.
Although hardly ruining what is a very solid addition to Elkins' series, Phil Boyajian's significance to the story becomes very apparent in the last quarter of the novel, in which he is suddenly a more prominent rather than a peripheral presence, and the need to account for his obvious significance allowed me to solve the mystery at least two chapters before the resolution is spelled out. On the other hand, given the saturation level that documentary and fictionalized depictions of forensic science have reached in books and in films and on television, it is something of a relief that Gideon's forensic investigation is important to the resolution of the broader mystery, but it is hardly the only component of his and Caravale's investigation.
--Martin Kich
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