Of all the reasons for writing a book, Gregory Stout claims the one that may take the record as the most transactional, if not cynical, of them all: He was contractually obligated! But having to write something is not superseded by the passion of wanting to tell a story. Once the muse begins to whisper, nothing else matters.
Long Time Gone is the fourth in the Nashville, Tennessee-based Jackson Gamble PI series. The novel runs along two parallel, mostly unconnected, tracks. On one side, PI Gamble is hired by a slightly shady bail bondsman to track down a career petty criminal named Tommy Mack, who is on the run for his life after unwittingly burgling the home of a highly-placed organized crime figure and stealing some heirloom jewelry.
Not long after, Gamble is also retained by the attractive wife of a college professor who went missing four years earlier, leaving no trace of his whereabouts or a reason for his disappearance. Unfortunately, within days, the woman is found murdered in her home. But who killed her, and why? Was her death connected to the reopening of the search for her missing husband?
Bodies begin to pile up as the two investigations take Gamble deep into the underbelly of organized crime as well as the sometimes-unsavory sexual doings of high-level academia.
Characters in series present unique challenges: they must evolve over the course of each novel and yet stay true to their cores. In this novel alone, characters get shot, deal with the health issues that come with aging, and have ex-spouses turn up.
“I created CVs for the major characters,” says Mr. Stout, “To keep track of their previous employment, marriage and separation dates, continuing education, and changing financial situations. Also, and perhaps most importantly in a work of fiction which draws liberally from the noir classics of the postwar era, the characters have to work through situations that produce results far from what they might have hoped, but that are the best they were able to get.”
The novel ultimately reaches a heartbreaking, noirish resolution. Unlike a traditional cozy or a cookie-cutter episode of a television crime series, Gamble (and the reader) realize that sometimes there is no happy ending, and the best anyone can hope for is to break even.
But even without the comeuppance that we had hoped for at the end of the story, or the happily-ever-after, of the bittersweet ending, readers enjoy the time they spent with Gamble. Like Aerosmith says: Life’s a journey, not a destination.
