Silken Prey is John Sandford’s 23rd installment of his Prey series featuring Twin Cities detective Lucas Davenport, and quality control remains virtually unimpaired.
Sandford prefers his villains on the barmy side, and this time he’s created a nut job par excellence: Taryn Grant, the silken Machiavelli, a gorgeous young Democratic politician – and sociopath – who has mapped out her reckless path all the way to the presidency. Step One is to wrest away the Minnesota Senate seat currently held by conservative Republican Porter Smalls. Her guiding principle is pure expediency: If it’s likely to work and can’t be traced to her, she’ll greenlight it.
Planting kiddie porn is the main tactic used by her and her henchmen. Smalls is accused and vilified, and despite his denials, Grant pulls ahead in the polls. The state’s Democratic governor senses something amiss and fears that if it turns out this is a frame-up, Democrats up and down the ticket will suffer. By assigning the case to Davenport, who works for the state’s version of the FBI and is known for his brilliance, the governor can assure one and all that the state is doing its best to achieve justice.
Murders soon complicate the case, and for help Davenport calls upon his regulars, including a rednecky cop named Virgil Flowers, who heads up his own line of Sandford novels (six so far). But the pivotal contributions come from Kidd, a wizardly computer hacker who is also the centerpiece of a burgeoning series (four novels), and his lady, Lauren. She’s an ex-burglar who still misses the matchless excitement of prowling around a house she’s broken into.
As always in Sandford Land, his plotting is smooth, with few coincidences (or at least few that strike the reader as contrived). But I’d forgotten how shrewdly he assesses his characters, as in this description of a female staffer that should resonate in Washington: He’d seen it often enough in government work, people who felt that they were better than their job, and better than those around them; a princess kidnapped by gypsies, and raised below her station.
And Flowers gets off a good one when he hears what sort of things Citizen Grant has been authorizing: The legislature runs on corruption. But a killer in the U.S. Senate ... an actual murderer? The prospect is the tiniest bit disturbing.
Silken Prey is so good that one is inclined to forgive the author his one concession to thriller-writer laziness, when Davenport logs on to someone’s laptop by psyching out her password (which happens to be her daughter’s first name).
A one-man media conglomerate, Sandford spins out tales and series in a way that makes the word prolific seem mundane. Perhaps to do him justice, we must switch to French. Yes, that’s it: John Sanford is prolifique et magnifique!