I find detective novels, especially mysteries, a tough genre to review. On the one hand, you want to avoid spoilers so as not to spoil the fun. On the other, you still want to provide enough information to give prospective readers a reasonable sense of what to expect. I think there are no spoilers here, but then I think it's always fair game to identify the book's protagonist, setting, style (tone), principal plot (that is, what the detective is originally instructed to solve), and my overall impressions be they aesthetic, intellectual, or both. It seems to me that this is fair, given that all except my opinions are given either on the book's coverleaf or else in the opening pages. Still, if you are one of those who finds these to be spoilers, stop reading now.
Wolves Eat Dogs is the fifth of six works in Martin Cruz Smith's ongoing Arkady Renko series, which he kicked off with the transcendent Gorky Park (made into an equally-transcendent movie starring William Hurt, Brian Dennehy, and Lee Marvin, thanks in no small part to Dennis Potter's ultra-literary script adaptation, Potter being the writer of The Singing Detective and Pennies from Heaven fame). But I digress. If you know this series -- and you should -- then you know that Renko is the incongruously incorruptible detective whose fate it is to be eternally in conflict with the employers and environment he knows to be wholly corrupted. He exists in curt, cryptic prose of a sort appropriate to a screenplay. He is also a means for capturing snapshots of Cruz Smith's Soviet Russia in transition.
Don’t agree? How else to explain the apparent agelessness of the protagonist, a man who has been in his 30s for about 30 years. Here’s the series in a nutshell:
- Gorky Park situates the detective in 1980 Soviet Russia, a place static and corrupt, where high-ranking members of the Party move its citizens about an invisible chessboard in an endless quest for personal advantage.
- Polar Star, much like John Le Carre's superior (if less humorous) Russia House, bounces Renko off CIA and KGB re-agents coping with their transitioning roles at the end of the Cold War circa 1989-1990.
- In Red Square, Cruz Smith makes Arkady witness to the evolution of Eastern Europe circa 1995 as seen through the perspective of the changing black market, one moving from patronage by Party members to control by the emerging Russian Mafia (same actors, different costumes).
- Then in Havana Bay, we have a Russian-eye-view of the consequences of Russia’s economically necessitated desertion of Cuba (close on the turn of the 21st century).
- Wolves Eat Dogs has Renko wander through the aftermath of Chernobyl, a full generation (20 years) after the disaster.
- Last but not least, Stalin's Ghost (which I have just begun to read as of this writing and which is the latest in the series to date) would seem to juxtapose present-day nostalgia for the wretched dictator with the historic reality of 60 years ago, in the process (I hope) of examining the price of such patriotic amnesia.
But back to Wolves and its plot. Renko is launched into his investigation when a "New Russian" (read, a capitalist-made as opposed to mafia-made millionaire) is found dead outside his exclusive apartment building. Suicide or murder? And what's the meaning of all the salt in his closet?
As detective fiction goes, this book seems to me to be the weakest in the series. The author makes use of so many dei ex machinae to rescue Renko from peril you’d think his name was Pauline. As bad are the final chapters, which read to me like an afterthought of queued-up confessionals designed to resolve the whos and hows that the inspector was previously denied opportunity to discover independently.
But who cares? This isn’t a rhetorical question on my part. It is a trope of this series, a question with which Inspector Renko is explicitly confronted over and over in each book, including intermittently by his direct superior (the Senior Prosecutor). It is likewise a question to which Renko never really has a satisfactory answer – I assume because the author finds exposure of the plot to be less important than revelation of the system which makes it possible. In any case, you shouldn't read Wolves for the unspooling of its plot. Sure, the author is a competent storyteller, but as stated, this book is less about specific crimes than about the state tragedy that is Chernobyl. As such, the midsection of this book makes a terrific companion piece to any of the works in Richard Rhodes' nonfiction nuke trilogy. The rest can simply be skimmed.