Book Review: The Ghost Orchid by Jonathan Kellerman

In Unnatural History (#38 Alex Delaware novel), Alex, a gifted psychologist, was crushed during a consulting gig for LAPD (Los Angeles Police Department). He was so badly hurt that four months later, he’s just now feeling somewhat fit. Alex is not back working alongside LAPD homicide lieutenant Milo Sturgis but he’s itching to be asked. Alex admits to himself that he’s “been faking serenity,” and that without his consulting side gig, he “had never stopped feeling incomplete.” He asks his partner Robin (who easily fits the moniker LOML *love-of-my-life*) how she feels about his long-standing relationship with the LAPD.

“Would I prefer if you never got involved in all the ugly stuff? Part of me would. But I’d be living with a very unhappy man.”

 

“Unhappy fool.”

 

She laughed. “Don’t tempt me. Anyway, I’m sure he’ll call when he really needs you.”

 

“I’m not.”

 

She poured herself another half glass of Zinfandel. Daintily polished off a stuffed grape leaf. Greek takeout, tonight.

The interplay between Robin and Alex reminds me of how Spenser and Susan Silverman interact [N.B. Spenser, the hard-boiled shamus and Susan, the serene psychologist of the Robert Parker Boston-set detective novels]. After their conversation, Robin surreptitiously reaches out to Milo. Her call results in Alex being asked to drop by the precinct. Milo feels guilty that Alex was injured while helping him—the last thing he wants is for Alex to be put in a perilous situation again—so he calls him about what Milo thinks is an open-and-shut-case. Emphasis on “thinks.”

The Ghost Orchid is anything but obvious and linear.  A pool boy discovers more than leaves floating in the water of the Bel Air pool he’s servicing—two naked bodies are sprawled out on the pool deck, both shot in the chest. Alex takes a good look at the forty-something female: “No body ink I could see; any obvious adornment came from the carbon glinting on her left hand: a sizable rectangular diamond ring above a pavé wedding band.” Alex points that out to Milo.

“Her ring is sizable but it wasn’t taken. Anything lifted from the house?”

 

“Nothing obvious. Want to see for yourself?”

 

Without waiting for an answer, he gloved up, handed me a pair, turned and led me through the open glass door.

And they’re off. Inside, they find a sparsely furnished bachelor pad—until they see the victim’s shoe collection: “Tennis shoes for exercise and for show, suede drivers, supple loafers, woven oxfords, glossy wingtips, lace-up boots.” No wonder Milo says drily, “Maybe married women weren’t his only fetish.” The police soon identify the victims—Gio Aggiunta, the younger son of a bespoke Italian shoe firm, and an older married woman, Meagin March. Douglass March, Meagin’s husband, is younger than her; he’s a wealthy, anti-social real estate tycoon. It’s quite clever how Milo and Alex discover Gio’s day job. They take their discussion of the case with them to lunch—at an Italian “deli-cum-café” on Santa Monica Boulevard. Milo shows the waiter/struggling actor Gio’s passport—the young man has never served him. But…

The waiter peered carefully. “No, sir.” His eyes shifted to the name beneath the photo. “Aggiunta. Like the shoes.”

 

“Shoes?”

 

“Expensive shoes.” He looked down at his own dusty black lace-ups and smiled.

 

“Are they sold locally?”

 

“I don’t know, sir. Maybe Rodeo Drive?”

 

“Super high-end, huh?”

 

The waiter whistled.

What about the second victim? Initially, the LAPD sees Doug March, Meagin’s husband, as the most likely suspect. But some tricky contradictions belay the assumption—there’s nothing stolen from the house, as well as “no forced entry, no forensic evidence.” Over the years, when things seem hinky, Milo has relied on the psychological chops of his friend Alex Delaware. Alex has a gift for seeing beyond the obvious. 

Milo and Alex discover that neither Gio nor Meagin are stereotypical. Yes, Gio amuses himself with an endless parade of wealthy, beautiful, and unattainable older women. Meagin shops, works out, socializes with a few close women friends, does some charity work—but that’s not all there is to either one. Gio’s wealthy Italian family has exiled him to Los Angeles, a consequence of years of seriously bad behavior that threatens their family empire. Meagin is a pseudonym; she reinvented her life after a horribly traumatic childhood. Are they similar in a game sees game way? Or perhaps two troubled souls who found comfort with each other? Milo and Alex search for anyone or anything who can explain the enigma of Meagin who clearly was a stranger to her awkward husband.  

Meagin’s cell phone shows that she was in touch with two female friends. Without revealing the mystery behind why Meagin wanted/needed to create a new life for herself (that’s spoiler territory), it’s fascinating to learn who Meagin was to her closest friends. Even though Doug was the scion of a multi-million dollar real estate empire, her friends didn’t see her as motivated by money—“From what I could tell her focus was feeling free.” Free from what? Free to escape her past? 

Acclaimed New Zealand mystery writer Nalini Singh wrote about how she approaches mysteries. 

I care not only about solving the mystery in each story but solving the mystery that is the character. Because for me, it’s not only about the whodunnit, but also the whydunnit. The latter is what drives me personally as a writer. I’m constantly fascinated by what humans are capable of doing to and for each other—and also the sometimes incomprehensible reasons why.

The Ghost Orchid is an intense character-driven mystery—Alex and Milo must peel back the layers of Meagin’s life to uncover why she and her lover were murdered. Prepare to be surprised by the complexity of the plot.