Little, Brown
Published May 20, 2025
Reviewed by Mary-Jane Oltarzewski
Santa Catalina is policed by a small department staffed by a handful of locals, and another handful of L.A. cops who have been exiled from the mainland for one reason or another, headquartered in a substation of the Los Angeles County sheriff’s department. Detective Sergeant Stilwell, the hero of Michael Connelley’s new novel Nightshade, is one of those exiles. A smart, driven homicide detective who wound up on the wrong end of an internal dispute on the mainland, he has established a comfortable life on Catalina Island, as it is commonly called: enjoying the pristine landscape, fresh seafood, and distinctive flora and fauna. He has a pretty girlfriend, and a decent rapport with his colleagues; he “ had initially objected to his transfer but … has found meaning in his work,” even if that work leans heavily toward the apprehension of vandals, small-time thieves, and drunk-and-disorderlies. That is, until the body of a murdered woman is found adrift in the harbor on the Friday before Memorial Day weekend.
Under circumstances reminiscent of Jaws, the town mayor is less interested in investigating the death than he is in preventing bad news from impacting the vacation trade. Mayor Allen was “‘born and raised on this island,’” he reminds Stilwell, and he’s protective of his home turf, in an ambitious sort of way. Even though he’s in negotiations to build a big, eye-catching Ferris wheel that will alter Catalina’s natural landscape, Allen says “‘I don’t want this harbor turned into a crime scene circus … murder is bad for business.’” For Stilwell, however, murder is his business. Even though the mayor and his superiors on the mainland tell him to stand down and let his former colleagues from L.A. handle it, even though everyone who knew the victim says “‘she was bad news from the start,’” Stilwell continues to investigate the case.
Among crime procedurals, Michael Connelly’s books are the gold standard. Never a dropped strand, never an implausible red herring, his novels allow the reader to live and breathe the experience, every step of the way, as his detectives pursue justice – usually, although not always – within the bounds of the law. His latest is a solid example of that craftsmanship, with a compelling plot and a solid attention to detail that matches his protagonist’s. Connelly’s skillful ability to evoke a sense of place is likewise in evidence here, even more so than in the earlier novels, which depict the city of Los Angeles with such vivid intensity. The idyllic setting and the relentlessly stubborn detective contrast and complement one another. It makes sense that Stilwell is as protective of his new home as the lifelong residents are, and that he refuses to write off a murder victim just because she’s been described, more than once, as a selfish gold digger. This detective doesn’t actually say “Everybody counts, or nobody counts,” but if you know, you know.
Beyond that stubborn diligence, however, Stilwell is disappointingly underdeveloped. Is there any reason why this guy doesn’t have a first name? Even his girlfriend calls him “Stil,” and why does he keep referring to the girlfriend – as no boyfriend ever does – by her first and last names, “Tash Dano” ? Compared to the dour, yet unexpectedly witty Harry Bosch, or the glib, yet unexpectedly decent Mickey “Lincon Lawyer” Haller, Stilwell’s interior monologue is not particularly distinctive. Most of the other characters are a bit thinly drawn, as well. Tash Dano is straight out of the crime fiction playbook: she’s a Catalina native, drawn to Stil’s dogged work ethic until it takes him away from her and the island (“‘I don’t like going across. Only bad things happen over there,’”) smart and self-sufficient until the narrative requires a damsel in distress. The local crime boss, Oscar “Baby Head” Terranova is likewise straight out of central casting; the most interesting thing about him is his name. Honestly, the most colorfully drawn character is Stilwell’s former partner and current nemesis, Rex Ahearn, an unlikeable but carefully manifested example of the kind of lazy, narrow-minded civil servant who goes along to get along, and expects his co-workers to make that easy for him.
Catalina Island has tremendous potential, both as a vacation spot and the backdrop for a crime series. Hopefully, next time around, the characters will become as intriguing as the plot and setting are in this one.