The Fate of Katherine Carr (Otto Penzler Books)

George Gates used to be a travel writer who specialized in places where people disappearedJudge Crater, the Lost Colony.Then his eight-year-old son was murdered, the killer never found, and Gates gave up disappearance. Now he writes stories of redemptive triviality about flower festivals and local celebrities for the town paper, and spends his evenings haunted by the image of his sons last day. Enter Arlo MacBride, a retired missing-persons detective still obsessed with the unsolved case of Katherine Carr. When he gives Gates the story she left behinda story of a man stalking a woman named Katherine CarrGates too is drawn inexorably into a search for the missing authors brief life and uncertain fate. And as he goes deeper, he begins to suspect that her tale holds the key not only to her fate, but to his own. From Publishers Weekly Starred Review . George Gates, who once toured the world as a travel writer, churns out fluff pieces for his local paper and spends his nights alone, imagining what he'd do to the person who murdered his eight-year-old son seven years before and is still at large in Cook's eerily poignant novel. When Arlo McBride, a retired missing persons detective, tells Gates about the unsolved disappearance of reclusive poet Katherine Carr 20 years earlier, Gates is intrigued. Cook ( Master of the Delta ) seamlessly intertwines the short story Carr left behindabout a woman also named Katherine Carrwith Gates's growing obsession with Carr's fate. When his editor suggests that Gates write a profile of Alice Barrows, an orphan girl dying of progeria (premature aging), he discovers that Alice is an avid detective fan, and together they form an unlikely partnership. Adept at merging past and present plot lines, Cook eloquently examines the often cathartic act of storytelling. Author tour. (June) Copyright Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved. From Booklist Cook, the author of 21 novels, has been nominated for the Edgar seven times and won once (for The Chatham School Affair, 1996). His latest is as much an investigation into character as it is a cold-case mystery. Hero George Gates has been completely broken by the kidnapping and murder of his eight-year-old son seven years ago. Gates is a former travel writer, much given to writing about places where people disappeared. Now he salves his psyche by writing totally innocuous small features for the local paper. A chance meeting at a bar with the detective who organized the search parties when Gates son went missing leads Gates into a new interest, a cold case that has obsessed the detective for two decades. Retired missing-persons detective Arlo McBride shows Gates the poems and journal that the 31-year-old missing woman left behind, and both men are pulled into reopening the case. The action tends to crawl, but the characters are rich and fascinating. Give this one to fans of Kate Atkinsons acclaimed When Will There Be Good News? (2008). --Connie Fletcher

Chapter One

They strike at heat, she said, and so there is no escape. What if evil were like that, too, a heat that rises from the worst of us, its correction like a hawk circling overhead; always present, but unseen in its dive? Perhaps in all such speculations, the question mark alone is relevant, the opening it offers to a strange dark hope.

But heat, at least, is real, and the one that shimmers around me now comes from the building light, the green, turgid river, the dense jungle and ...

"Always reading," Mr. Mayawati says as he strolls out onto the deck. He is large and slow-footed, his scent a blend of sweat and curry. "I have noticed that you are always reading."

I put down the book. "Yes."

Mr. Mayawati's face is the color of meat slow-roasted on a skewer. He wears a white linen shirt, already moist in the armpits, and baggy flannel pants. "I hope I do not disturb you," he says as he reaches the chair beside me.

"Not at all," I tell him.

Mr. Mayawati grabs the front of his shirt and slaps it against his chest. "So hot so early here."

It is a heat that does not come from the sun above us, I tell Mr. Mayawati, but from the earth below, waves of it rising from our planet's molten core. "A gift from Hell, you might say."

This observation appears faintly to unsettle Mr. Mayawati, so that he quickly moves to a different subject. "What summons you so far upriver?" he asks casually.

"Things I haven't seen."

Mr. Mayawati laughs and in his laugh I see the avuncular charm that is no doubt his most effective tool, a salesman of himself. How could one refuse to go where he directs, accept what he offers, buy whatever he has to sell?

"And you?" I ask him.

"I have been made rootless by circumstances," Mr. Mayawati answers with a sad shake of the head. With a fat man's groan, he lowers himself into the chair and drops his hands onto the great bulk of his stomach. A gold tooth glints brightly when he smiles. "But I was born in Amritsar."

"Where the massacre was."

Mr. Mayawati is quite obviously surprised by the fact that I know his remote birthplace, its history, the savage slaughter that took place there.

"Ah, but that evil was avenged, was it not?" Mr. Mayawati says with a broad grin. "O'Dwyer, wasn't that his name? The Brit who thought it was all quite proper to slaughter Indians?" The smile widens even more. "Shot down in London some years later, wasn't he?"

"He was, yes," I tell him.

"A sweet vengeance," Mr. Mayawati says with satisfaction. He laughs. "It is a good feeling, is it not, when an evil man does not get away with his crime?"

I nod. "A very good feeling." The smile I offer him has the feel of a forged document. "You've been made rootless by circumstances, you said?"

Mr. Mayawati releases a great sigh and peers out into the jungle thickness. "Yes," he says mournfully. "In my own country I am an Outcast."

His lowly status has made him a vagabond, he adds, so that he now roams the world in search of safe harbor.

"I wish only to live in peace," he tells me. "Is that so much to ask?"

When I don't answer, he glances at the book in my hand. "To my sorrow, I read very little." He thinks I have not heard him, that his voice has died beneath the rattle of the boat's ravaged engine, and so he raises his voice to hold my attention. "I see you read Spanish."

"Yes."

"And the book you are reading, may I ask what it is about?"

"A man who disappeared in Juarez," I tell him.

"An official of some sort?" Mayawati asks.

"No, a man who killed several children," I tell him. "They found some of their bloodstained clothing in his house."

"But the man himself was gone?"

"Without a trace."

Mr. Mayawati waves his hand dismissingly. "No one disappears without a trace." The deck chair releases a little child's weak cry as he shifts his weight. "I give no credit to such stories."

I look over the boat's unpainted rail, the river beyond it, the mist that boils up from its murky depths.

Mr. Mayawati swabs his neck with a red handkerchief. His face has the rounded folds of one long unable to control a ravenous appetite. "I prefer happy endings," he says with a robust laugh. He takes off his hat and begins to fan himself. "Perhaps I am fit only for the sort of story one reads to children." He laughs again. "Fairy tales, that sort of thing."

"But there are some stories you can approach only hesitantly," I tell him. "Fearfully." The last ragged tendrils of the river's mist dissolves into the rising heat. "As you would reach out to touch the substance of a ghost."

Mr. Mayawati's hat stops in mid-flight. "The substance of a ghost," he repeats. "Do you know such a story?"

"Yes."

"What sort of story is it?"

"It's a mystery," I answer. "Rather dark."

Mr. Mayawati releases his breath and glances out into the encroaching jungle. "Such a long way to the central station." He smiles brightly. "A fit occasion for a story, is it not?"

"I suppose."

He smiles like one in anticipation of a treat and, without fear, without hesitation, he says, "Would you mind telling it to me, then?"

"Not at all."

And so like a spider spinning the first delicate fiber of its web, I begin my tale.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from THE FATE OF KATHERINE CARR by THOMAS H. COOK Copyright © 2009 by Thomas H. Cook. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

george Gates Used To Be A Travel Writer Who Specialized In Places Where People Disappeared—judge Crater, The Lost Colony. Then His Eight-year-old Son Was Murdered, The Killer Never Found, And Gates Gave Up Disappearance. Now He Writes For The Town Paper, Stories Of Redemptive Triviality About Flower Festivals And Local Celebrities, And Spends His Evenings Haunted By The Image Of His Son’s Last Day.

 

enter Arlo Mcbride, A Retired Missing-persons Detective Still Obsessed With The Unsolved Case Of Katherine Carr. When He Gives Gates The Story She Left Behind—about A Man Stalking A Woman Named Katherine Carr—gates Too Is Drawn Inexorably Into A Search For The Missing Author’s Brief Life And Uncertain Fate. And As He Goes Deeper, He Begins To Suspect That Her Tale Holds The Key Not Only To Her Fate, But To His Own.

publishers Weekly

george Gates, Who Once Toured The World As A Travel Writer, Churns Out Fluff Pieces For His Local Paper And Spends His Nights Alone, Imagining What He'd Do To The Person Who Murdered His Eight-year-old Son Seven Years Before And Is Still At Large In Cook's Eerily Poignant Novel. When Arlo Mcbride, A Retired Missing Persons Detective, Tells Gates About The Unsolved Disappearance Of Reclusive Poet Katherine Carr 20 Years Earlier, Gates Is Intrigued. Cook (master Of The Delta) Seamlessly Intertwines The Short Story Carr Left Behind-about A Woman Also Named Katherine Carr-with Gates's Growing Obsession With Carr's Fate. When His Editor Suggests That Gates Write A Profile Of Alice Barrows, An Orphan Girl Dying Of Progeria (premature Aging), He Discovers That Alice Is An Avid Detective Fan, And Together They Form An Unlikely Partnership. Adept At Merging Past And Present Plot Lines, Cook Eloquently Examines The Often Cathartic Act Of Storytelling. author Tour. (june)

copyright © Reed Business Information, A Division Of Reed Elsevier Inc. All Rights Reserved.

George Gates used to be a travel writer who specialized in places where people disappeared-Judge Crater, the Lost Colony. Then his eight-year-old son was murdered, the killer never found, and Gates gave up disappearance. Now he writes stories of redemptive triviality about flower festivals and local celebrities for the town paper, and spends his evenings haunted by the image of his son's last day. Enter Arlo MacBride, a retired missing-persons detective still obsessed with the unsolved case of Katherine Carr. When he gives Gates the story she left behind-a story of a man stalking a woman named Katherine Carr-Gates too is drawn inexorably into a search for the missing author's brief life and uncertain fate. And as he goes deeper, he begins to suspect that her tale holds the key not only to her fate, but to his own George Gates is a former travel writer. He used to specialise in writing about places where people disappeared, sometimes individuals, sometimes whole societies. Now, since the murder of his eight-year-old son, Gates has written gentler stories for the town paper about flower festivals and local celebrities. Enter Arlo MacBride! Shattered by the unsolved murder of his eight-year-old son, travel writer George Gates is approached by a retired missing-persons detective and given a mysterious story left behind by a woman who disappeared twenty years earlier. By the author of Master of the Delta. From this acclaimed crime writer - a mystery about a travel writer who becomes obsessed by a story written 20 years earlier by a woman who disappeared.