The Leopard by Jo Nesbo

I was talking to a friend at a party recently and we were trying to find out why people so enjoyed the Dragon Tattoo series by Stieg Larsson.  Why they made such an impact on the publishing world and why there was so much chatter about them around pools and water coolers when they hit the shelves.  I think we decided that one of the reasons that we all are intrigued by those stories is that they are densely written with complex plotlines and surprise twists.  They don’t follow the mystery formula that so many do.  I also think that we love the grittiness of them.  The murders are twisted and creepy leaving the reader wondering about the mental state of the author but in awe of his sense of plotting as he draws you in and holds you in suspense for pages at a time.   The characters are flawed and sort of on the sidelines of society – both the good guys and the bad – and Larsson never apologizes for them. 

Finally I think we Americans are interested in the landscape and setting of the novels.  Scandinavia is not written about frequently and we’re sort of intrigued by a place where climate is extreme and the culture is strong.  It’s not an area of the world that we hear about on a regular basis.  It is for all these reasons that Jo Nesbo’s work is as appealing as Stieg Larsson’s. 

In my “Book Picks of 2011” post, I listed “The Snowman” as one of my favorite books of last year.  After reading the newest installment of the Harry Hole series, my opinion of Nesbo’s work has not flagged.  The Leopard was just as engaging, creepy and complex as The Snowman. 

In The Leopard, a serial murderer is killing women and men using a torture device known as Leopold’s Apple that’s linked to mining warlords in The Congo.  Harry Hole is brought back from Hong Kong where he’s been exorcising his demons after solving The Snowman case.  He is plunged into a battle between local and federal law enforcement and has to solve the case off the record with the help of his old friends and colleagues.  Hole sets up offices in an unused prison and travels to the volcanoes of war torn Congo and the cabins high in Norway’s mountains to catch the killer. 

Just like last time, I finish Nesbo’s book with a huge respect for his ability to plot and pace his books.  Just when you think the suspense will put you over the edge, he lets off the gas pedal and gives you a minute to recover, all the while stringing you along for the ride.  It’s a talent that not many mystery writers have really perfected.  Nesbo’s characters are interesting and complex and when I look at his photo in the back of the book, I wonder what he’s like in real life.  What makes him tick?  What makes him think up all these weird and freaky plot lines?  You certainly don’t get the feeling he is phoning it in for the paycheck. 

Finally one of the best parts of Nesbo’s books is that Nesbo himself is still alive.  We lost Stieg Larsson to an untimely death and will never know what happened to Lisbeth Salander in the end.  Presumably Nesbo will continue to keep us informed of Harry Hole’s whereabouts and creep us out with scary serial killers for years to come.