Six days into the case, Detective Chief Inspector Morgan is stricken with bleeding ulcers and his replacement is DCI James Langton, a man Anna knows well having worked with him on a previous case. Unfortunately for Anna, her working relationship with Langton blossomed into a deeply personal one as well - which had crashed and burned.

Professionally, Langton is demanding and tireless, not only of those under his command, but himself as well. The fact his predecessor has shown no progress in the case after almost a week galls him. He issues orders as ultimatums which both inspires and depresses Anna. In addition, Langton has brought in a professional profiler to help with the case, Professor Aisling Marshe. Professor Marshe, an American, appears to Anna to be Langton’s latest romantic interest as well. Admittedly Anna is a bit jealous of Professor Marshe’s attachment to a man for whom Anna still carries a torch, but strictly speaking the woman is offering little insight into the mind of the killer.

Perhaps to counteract Langton’s lack of attention toward Anna as a person, she begins a relationship with Richard Reynolds, a journalist covering the case. Reynolds was the first to notice the similarities of this case, which he dubs the Red Dahlia case, to the Los Angeles murders of some sixty years ago. Anna knows better than to let her personal life interfere with her professional one and, sure enough, Reynolds uses information that he has taken without her knowledge to embarrass her publicly. Now not only is the present case compromised because of her, but her professional career may also be in jeopardy.

Though the plot line is predictable to a fault and the pace methodical and plodding, the author manages to retain the reader’s interest by her careful attention to detail. The story is related as events unfold day by day as well as chapter breaks indicating changes in the action. Initially, there are literally no clues for either law enforcement or the reader to follow. When information does come it is delivered anonymously. The reader has no chance at this one, but it becomes easy enough to follow the thought processes of the authorities and the reader is almost hit on the head by the obvious solution. That the reader is invited to follow the police as they try to apprehend the guilty party keeps much tension from developing, but considering the gruesomeness of the crimes, this may be a valid technique.

The author does have a unique sense of description, putting words in unusual context. “The grimace of a smile,” “or gut wrenching snorts” as a man tries to keep (unsuccessfully) from crying demonstrate the author’s facility with language.

LaPlante gives a fair amount of historical detail to the architecture of Tudor houses, and the significance of so called priest holes which were built into many Tudor homes. Inherent in her descriptions is the unsaid admonition that many such homes have been desecrated in the name of modernization.

Ms. LaPlante does not shirk from vivid descriptions of sadistic murder, complete with dismemberment and mutilation. Let the squeamish reader beware. In addition, sexual child abuse plays an important role in this novel. Deviant sexual practices figure into the action as well.

Though there is no real new ground covered in The Red Dahlia and the pace of the action is slow and methodical, the reader gets a good sense of what actual police work must be like. There are lots of dead ends, uncooperative witnesses, and days where no progress is made in the investigation. In fact, were it not for the timely anonymous phone call, the murderer was correct. He would not have been caught.

--Andy Plonka