Michael Connelly’s latest thriller reintroduces us to Jack McEvoy, the young crime reporter from his first stand alone thriller, The Poet (1996). While it’s not essential to have read The Poet before starting The Scarecrow, I would recommend it. There are no spoilers from the first book in this review, but half the pleasure in reading The Scarecrow is becoming reacquainted with familiar characters.
It’s been twelve years since the end of The Poet, and Jack McEvoy is now in his early forties. He’s just been laid off from his job at the Los Angeles Times. Lured away from the Rocky Mountain News in the wake of the success of his bestselling true crime book based on his personal experiences with the serial killer called The Poet, Jack and his inflated salary are victims of the recession. He’s working his final two weeks on the job and training his successor, rookie reporter Angela Cook.
When Jack receives an anonymous phone call from a woman berating him for printing lies about her son, who is now in prison for murder, his curiosity is piqued. He’s on the lookout for a story to end his tenure at The Times with a bang. As a result, he follows up the lead a little more diligently than he normally might have, and realizes he might be on to something major. Forced to work with the ruthlessly ambitious Angela, Jack finds himself drawn into something far more sinister than he could ever have anticipated.
In the course of his investigation, Jack is reunited with FBI agent Rachel Walling. Rachel’s affair with Jack during The Poet case caused her to be sidelined, and she’s eager to get her career back on track. Despite her best intentions, Rachel soon finds herself putting her job – and her life – on the line for Jack once again.
As the body count rises, what is the connection with a mysterious data storage facility and an employee known as The Scarecrow?
This book is a mixed bag. On the plus side, I’ve always liked Jack McEvoy. He manages to cut both a pathetic and a heroic figure, a combination which is not always easy to pull off convincingly. The parts set at the newspaper were excellent. Connelly is himself a former police reporter, and the details have an authentic flavour. The book looks at the fate of print journalists in an increasingly digital age, an aspect which I found particularly interesting.
On a more negative note, I’m not wild about Rachel Walling. Actually, I’m not too fond of Connelly’s female characters in general. They often come across as cold and brittle. I also felt this about Lorna, Mickey Haller’s ex in The Lincoln Lawyer and The Brass Verdict. Rachel had several Too Stupid To Live moments. For an FBI agent, she seemed to require a lot of rescuing, and I found this tedious.
Another problem I had with the book is that the identity of the villain is revealed on page one. The reader knows who he is from the very start, and watches Jack and Rachel flounder about trying to solve the mystery. I found this detracted from the build up of dramatic tension. Thrillers usually have at least one melodramatic confrontation towards the end. I can overlook this as it usually involves revelation and resolution. Without the sense of mystery surrounding the villain’s identity, this was something of an anticlimax.
Despite my criticisms, The Scarecrow is streets ahead of most other thrillers which make the New York Times bestseller list. Connelly’s style is engaging and unpretentious. His characters feel real and he excels at giving his readers an authentic sense of place. While this is not my favourite of Connelly’s books, The Scarecrow is a decent read and has much to recommend it. Grade: B-
