All is not what it seems in Old San Juan, in the Pio Nono home for boys, in the life of the island's most famous artist, or in the memories of his models. Detective Sergeant Julio Ramos and gringo FBI agent Steve Halloran work in uneasy alliance to catch a serial killer with a penchant for mangoes and a need to avenge lost love and innocence lost to corrupt priests. A shadowy puppet master lies behind it all. To come to truth, the investigators have to face their own painful issues, and even their targets must choose between light or darkness. In language, memory, race, and blood, the novel tells the story of the burden and the promise of recovered identity.
I congratulate Mara Campos for her courage in writing The Mango Murders. The subject matter is grim, but she approaches it straightforwardly and unflinchingly. In this slender, intense novel criminality is steeped in evil. It is a gripping story: something dark is hidden from the reader, evocative, complex and disturbing. The reader senses this and is caught in the same emotional tow as the investigators: he/she must go on. In certain ways the book is reminiscent of Ron Rash’s The Risen. Like The Risen it is beautifully written and concentrates on murder and the mystery surrounding the killer. But this is a very original book, with its own themes and events and historical atmosphere:
“The street was nearly deserted: the hour and the aromas told him people were in their kitchens. The thinning out of sounds that comes with late summer afternoons allowed some noises to be distinguished with strange clarity: the clatter of silverware, a sudden explosion of laughter, the slap-slap of a door with no latch.”
The prose is vivid and suspenseful. In the defining last moments of the story, Campos gives her reader and the hero, Special Agent Steve Halloran, both resolution to the crime and a sense of redemption.
The novel attempts to give the average Catholic a way forward in faith after facing things like the McCarrick revelations. A morality tale in the guise of a detective novel that can be read for fun, for the characters' culture clash, for depth psychology, or for personal profit.
The daughter of a former federal prosecutor is the latest victim of an elusive assassin in the old quarters of San Juan, Puerto Rico, and her death unravels a series of seemingly random connections involving a notorious local artist who uses his mistresses as serial models for his cultural-themed paintings, a prostitution ring, and a home for orphan boys covering pedophile priests and like-minded associates of these bad shepherds. The tentacles of abuse and human trafficking reach beyond the island and back. Also connected are the major law enforcement figures, one of whom, father of the latest victim, dies suspiciously of an apparent heart attack, his nephew, an FBI agent assigned to the case, and the agent's wife, who carries the burden of a dark family history. Making these connections as he works with the troubled FBI agent is Detective Julio Ramos, who brings the light of logic into the dark corners protecting the damaged souls from healing and rescue.
One of the first things I look for in a good murder mystery is the characters. I have to like the good guys and I prefer villains with some degree of humanity, not cardboard standups. To be convincing, evildoers must try to justify themselves, or be triggered by some real or perceived misery seeking company and/or revenge. I also look for an original storyline, not the usual cozy mystery, classic whodunit, or made-for-TV crime drama. The mango here serves as a unique symbol in the way each character responds to this odd token that links the assassin to the works of the artist. Finally, I look for some new knowledge or insight associated with the setting, and here the novelist gives us a brilliant description of old Puerto Rico and its unique culture and attitudes, as the past and present clash in the final conflict.
The mystery does not end with the revelation of the killer, but the carefully woven threads that link the murders to the investigators follow ancient patterns that resonate with our own dark cultural corners, and In the final moments, one of the investigators finds answers to the issues that have haunted him since childhood, and an uneasy peace. I would hope, though, that Mara Campos is not finished with Julio--this reader would like to see where he goes from here.