Roxanne Bouchard

This, the third Detective Joaquin Moralès book, is a compelling read.

There are two plots. In one, Fisheries Officer Simone Lord, who has been transferred to the Magdalen Islands, is tasked with monitoring a late-season grey-seal hunt aboard the trawler Jean-Mathieu. The unsavoury crew is antagonistic towards her, and it soon becomes apparent that the hunting of seals is not the only goal of the trip.

The second plot focuses on Det. Moralès. After his divorce is finalized, he reluctantly goes on a cruising and cross-country skiing holiday around the Gaspé with his friends, Érik Lefevre and Nadine Lauzon. In her role as a forensic psychologist, Nadine is investigating the savage beating of a teenager. She encourages Joaquin to take an interest in the case. As expected, that case leads to the Jean-Mathieu.

From the very beginning, there is a constant sense of danger. Simone is the only woman on a boat with a drug addict, a former poacher with a desire for revenge against fisheries officials, a misogynist, and an enigmatic man with a hidden agenda. When she arrives on board, one of the men thinks, “Bitches like that, they deserved nothing but a good whack on the back of the head with a hakapik.” Then there are the dangers of venturing out during a winter storm which has all the other boats taking shelter onshore. And more than once the treacherousness of walking on the ice during the hunt is mentioned. Throughout, the reader is aware of how isolated the crawler is and how slim the chances of a rescue if necessary. Of course, Simone is the most isolated since she doesn’t know if there is anyone she can trust.

Foreshadowing is abundant. When the trawler sets out, “a hefty wash made a rolling wake. It was sharpened to a blade by a frothing sea turned bloody by the crimson sun . . . Atop the raging waves, were flat clouds, their carmine bellies stacked heavy amidst layers of grey in a harsh, foreboding sky.” Blood is mentioned often: “slipping in the viscous pools of blood” and “red trails of blood streaked behind them” and “the deck flooding with blood” and “overalls glistening with blood” and “blood, guts and skulls were all that was left.” The ending, therefore, though emotionally devastating, is expected. Describing the atmosphere as ominous is certainly not hyperbole.

Besides serving as a physical danger, the stormy weather serves as a metaphor for Joaquin and Simone’s emotional states. The detective has just ended a 30-year marriage and he is floundering. He is grieving a loss and fears a life of loneliness. The Fisheries officer has lots of time to think, and her thoughts reveal her regrets and fear of not finding an enduring love. Both of them are sensitive despite their tough exteriors.

Readers should be warned that the seal hunt is graphically described. Reading about the killing of the animals is difficult: “Even though the creatures were dead, the hunters were still required to crush their skulls with the hammerhead side of their hakapiks.” The author, however, takes pains to point out that this technique, though gruesome, is “the most effective and pain-free method of killing seals.” She also emphasizes the need for culling; a sealer says, “’And things will get tricky pretty quickly if there’s a decline in sealing. We’re harvesting barely ten percent of a population of hundreds of thousands. If we don’t keep their growth in check, they’ll eat all the fish and crustaceans.’” I learned that the actions of activists could actually endanger the seals: a group “had daubed the seal pups with red paint, supposedly to protect them from the hunters. But the smell of the paint had driven the mothers away, and thousands of baby seals had starved to death.”

Part of the book’s appeal for me was the setting. I’ve toured the Gaspé more than once and visited the Magdalen Islands last year. I fell in love with the archipelago. Reading this novel with its references to specific places was a nostalgic trip for me.

I’ve read all three books in the series. Though I found the first book (We Were the Salt of the Sea) a faltering start, the author found her stride in the second book (The Coral Bride). And this third one is accomplished. I’m hoping there will be more books to follow.

Note: Please check out my reader's blog (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/) and follow me on Twitter (@DCYakabuski).… (más)

Those most affected by Angel Roberts' death want the authorities to believe that she committed suicide. But thanks to a Prologue we, the readers, are pretty sure that it is murder, but it isn't until the very end that DS Joaquin Moralès can put the scenario together, and apportion the blame.

The book's journey takes us down several paths, not only what happened to Angel, but also the personal events occurring in Morales world. Angel Roberts is a woman in a man's world, and her fight to be accepted on her own terms reflects the fight many women have had in the 21st century.

There are cultural issues too, which also reflect what has happened in our world.

An interesting but demanding read.… (más)

This book follows We Were the Salt of the Sea which introduced DS Joaquin Moralès. The setting is once again the Gaspé Peninsula of Quebec. Though I was not awed by the first book, I thought I’d give the author another chance and, fortunately, I enjoyed the second book more. It’s a police procedural that also examines family love and loyalty/betrayal.

Angel Roberts, the captain of a lobster trawler, disappears after a party to celebrate her tenth wedding anniversary, a celebration she attended wearing her wedding dress. Her boat is found but there is no one on board. Suicide is suspected, but Moralès is not convinced and sets out to conduct a thorough investigation. Assisting Moralès is Érik Lefebvre, a quirky police officer who collects random objects like a magpie and hates fieldwork, and Simone Lord, a fisheries officer who is self-assertive and prickly and has difficulty working as part of a team.

Moralès’ focus on the case is broken by the unexpected arrival of his son Sébastien who seems to have packed his worldly possessions and left his long-time girlfriend. Because Sébastien’s point of view is given periodically, the reader learns that he has come to confront his father whom he blames for teaching his son to be submissive to women.

The pace is rather slow. Moralès is at a disadvantage because he is a newcomer who has come to realize that in the tightly-knit communities of the Gaspé, “you had to know everything about everybody to stand a chance of solving a case.” There are complicated relationships, multi-generational family feuds, and layers of secrets Moralès must untangle to get at the truth. It seems that at each interview, he is told only part of the story. People tend only to answer what is asked so if he doesn’t ask the right question, he will not learn the full story. At times information is withheld out of a sense of loyalty and other times, out of fear.

There are a fair number of suspects so the reader is kept guessing. Several people have motives. What is repeatedly mentioned is the resentment Angel faced because she was a woman in a man’s world: most men resented her choice of occupation, and some had even tried to sabotage her chances of succeeding. I was pleased that, when the mystery was solved, the clues were there in plain sight.

Just as people’s unwillingness to talk frustrates Moralès’ investigation, difficulty in communicating impedes his relationship with Sébastien. They both have much to say to each other, but neither knows how to even begin. As expected, their lack of forthright communication has led to misunderstandings; likewise, Moralès’ reluctance to explain himself does not help create a positive working relationship with the fisheries officer whose expertise he needs.

The author’s descriptions of the coastline and the sea are wonderful: “The gulls diving into the frigid depths, splashing up spouts like shards of ice that pierce the lazy rays of the sun. The swell snorting its way through the morning frost on the sand. The wakes of boats sailing home becoming fewer and further between. The tiny nameless beaches deserted by even the most lingering of holidaymakers. The gloom descending gradually as the day gives minutes away to the night. The silence blanketing the shore.” There is no doubt that Roxanne Bouchard knows the region intimately and loves the sea.

There are some touches of humour that lighten the melancholy mood. Érik’s eccentric behaviour certainly made me smile, as did the behaviour of the cantankerous receptionist at the police station, especially in her treatment of “Detective Moral-less.”

There are some elements that I did not like. Moralès doesn’t call for backup on at least two occasions; this seems like such an amateur mistake. Similarly, Sébastien’s behaviour does not always seem believable; though his emotional state is understandable, he often acts more like a teenager than a man of thirty years of age. Why, for example, would he fail to pass on a message to his father about a man’s disappearance? There is also needless repetition. Does the “beguiling vertebra” at the nape of a woman’s neck need to be mentioned every time she appears? Is a reference to a family’s history of mental illness really necessary to explain one person’s actions? The insertion of a character’s thoughts in the middle of the thoughts of another is disconcerting. For instance, in the middle of Sébastien’s thoughts about Kimo, we are told, “Corine was worried her friend would put a damper on their evening.”

This second novel is stronger than its predecessor so I’m going to read the next one in the series, Whisper of the Seals, hoping it will be even better. In the meantime, though the book is not flawless, I will recommend this one to people who enjoy a police procedural with thematic depth.

Note: Please check out my reader's blog (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/) and follow me on Twitter (@DCYakabuski).… (más)