“The Passenger” by Lisa Lutz (Simon and Schuster, 305 pages, $25.99)
Whenever anybody asks me if I have read any good books lately I always respond, “Yes I have. A lot of them, actually.” These days, so many appealing books are coming out I feel like the honored guest at a non-stop literary banquet.
I just read the new mystery by Lisa Lutz. “The Passenger” is truly wonderful — reviewing it presents a tricky challenge, though. Here’s the dilemma: how can I delve into it without giving away some of the tasty bits and thereby wrecking it for readers? I’ll try to tiptoe through this minefield without detonating any spoilers.
Let’s start with the first tantalizing paragraph. A woman named Tanya Dubois narrates: “When I found my husband at the bottom of the stairs, I tried to resuscitate him before I ever considered disposing of the body. I pumped his barrel chest and blew into his purple lips. It was the first time in years that our lips had touched and I didn’t recoil.”
How’s that for an opening? This author can amp it up quickly. Lutz is known for a series of books about a family of private investigators, the Spellmans, who spend most of their time investigating each other. The Spellman books are often categorized in the murder mystery genre, even though no murders actually take place in the series.
This is her first true murder mystery. Based on her opening, it appears Tanya had a complicated marriage. This newly minted widow probably should have been calling 911, right? Not Tanya. And she has her reasons.
She takes off instead. She flees. Runs away. We wonder why? Well, that is what “The Passenger” is all about — and what we as readers are trying to figure out. Why is she reacting this way? Who is she?
Tanya goes off the grid. Her flight transforms her into a fugitive murder suspect. In each successive section she assumes another identity. Most of the early chapters end with an e-mail correspondence between a man and a woman. They have an exchange we do not understand. It will make sense eventually.
Tanya — or whoever she has become — resorts to all manner of subterfuges and schemes to prolong this life on the lam. She needs money, places to stay, new identities. Now and then she visits libraries to review her aliases on-line. Is she under investigation? Who might be following her?
Throughout “The Passenger,” Lutz sustains an ominous, unsettling, utterly addictive tension which doesn’t let up. Her narrator is wily, paranoid and afraid. She takes us along with her right to the very edge. Don’t look down.
Our excruciatingly reliable narrator reveals how she has become a pickpocket, a burglar, and much worse. We come to understand and respect her choices. Sizzling flashbacks finally reveal her hidden past. At least some of it. Do you like a tightly woven, blazing hot mystery? Pick up “The Passenger.”
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