Cimarron Rose
by James Lee Burke

Cimarron Rose is set in Texas and this time Dave Robichaux gets to sit on the substitutes bench while Billy Bob Holland takes a shot at stardom. If there is anything that addicts of a long running series can't stand it is when their favourite author decides to try something new but James Lee Burke's latest is certainly worth the minimal effort involved in getting to know his new protagonist. The hero is a lawyer, five words that don't seem to fit together somehow. Like Dave Robichaux and James Lee Burke he is not a cynical, flip wisecracker but instead a decent man trying to do his best against the sort of demons that are never going to go away but can only be kept at bay for the moment. The Alcoholics Anonymous mindset of Dave Robichaux and his creator is discreetly present here but just when you think Billy Bob is too good to be true he saddles up his horse and rides right into the nearest bar to mete out some frontier justice. The ensuing lariat frenzy will appeal to the armchair brawler inside us all and there is plenty of robust wild west type behaviour to keep you going if you get tired of all the decency and compassion.

In the manner of Due South we have a discarnate entity in the shape of L.Q. Navarro, a lawman who Billy Bob accidentally killed. He appears on a regular basis to chew over matters of morality. Among the topics on this astral agenda are - Just how much are you supposed to enjoy shooting the bad guys? How do you get over shooting your best friend?

The supporting cast is very good. I particularly enjoyed the fabulously corrupt and bigoted lardbucket sheriff who would probably be flying over to advise the incoming Tory government of 2007 on the first privatised hanging if he wasn't too much of a liberal. "He was six and a half feet tall and weighed over three hundred pounds, ate five meals a day, chainsmoked cigars, kept a spittoon by his desk, and hung framed pictures on the ancient log walls of every man his department had helped the state execute." The death penalty is another reason why it is easier for American writers to write crime fiction. Condemning someone to bicker about what's on the communal telly for the next fifteen years isn't quite the same as gradually frying them to death, or in the case of Texas, lethal injection, which is still a slow and clumsy way of killing someone. This makes the courtroom climax of this book rather more interesting than the British equivalent. As always with James Lee Burke there is some impressive nature writing, some fine poetic images and as the hero dips into his grandfather's journal we have a parallel story unfolding in which a reformed hellraiser finds a way to uphold the law against an outlaw gang. This is a solid, satisfying book with some surprises along the way and if you enjoy James Lee Burke's work or want to wallow in the atmosphere of Texas, then and now, this is a must.

Reviewed by Mark Ramsden