Nik Kane Alaska Mystery - 02 - Capitol Offense
| Capitol Offense | |
| Nik Kane Alaska Mystery [2] | |
| Mike Doogan | |
| Penguin Group USA, Inc. (2007) | |
| Rating: | *** |
| Tags: | Mystery |
### From Publishers Weekly
In veteran Anchorage journalist Doogan's uneven second Nik Kane mystery (after 2006's *Lost Angel*), a wealthy widow hires Kane, a disgraced former Anchorage cop turned PI, to help defend a promising Native Alaskan state legislator, Matthew Hope, against the charge of murdering an aide to conservative senator O.B. Potter. The first half of the book reads like a traditional detective novel, with a tough, troubled protagonist, mysterious client, unjustly accused suspect and reluctant informants, including Kane's estranged son, Dylan. Kane even acquires a sarcastic sidekick, Tlingit cab driver Cocoa Paul. The story eventually falls apart as Kane, working by instinct, suffers threats and beatings en route to an unsatisfying conclusion. Though most books set in Alaska take place in the glorious and forbidding wilderness, almost all the action is in the state capital, Juneau, a city that seems carved out of ice and rocks. Unfortunately, strong writing and evocative descriptions can't save a predictable plot and a hodgepodge of stock characters. *(Aug.)*
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### From Booklist
Former Anchorage police detective Nik Kane spent seven years in prison after shooting a supposedly unarmed boy. He was exonerated when a witness recanted and said the boy had pointed a gun at Nik before the detective responded. Unable to rejoin the police department, Nik works for a security firm until he decides to go out on his own. His former boss offers him his first job: clear a native Alaskan state senator, Matthew Hope, of the charge of murdering another senator's legislative assistant. Hope proclaims his innocence but seems uninterested in defending himself, even though he was found standing over the body with the murder weapon in his hand. Kane quickly becomes immersed in Alaskan state politics, where corruption seems rife. It soon becomes clear that someone wants Kane off the case.This gritty, hard-boiled mystery, the second in a series, also finds Kane trying to reestablish a relationship with his son after his stint in prison. O'Brien, Sue
Lost Angel
A NIK KANE ALASKA MYSTERY
G. P. P
UTNAM’S
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ONS
New York
G. P.
PUTNAM
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ONS
Publishers Since 1838
Published by the Penguin Group
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Copyright © 2007 by Mike Doogan
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Doogan, Mike.
Capitol offense : Nik Kane Alaska mystery / Mike Doogan.
p. cm.
ISBN: 978-1-1012-0743-7
1. Private investigators—Alaska—Fiction. 2. Alaska—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3604.O5675C37 2007 2007008804
813'.6—dc22
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
While the author has made every effort to provide accurate telephone numbers and Internet addresses at the time of publication, neither the publisher nor the author assumes any responsibility for errors, or for changes that occur after publication. Further, the publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
For my father, Jim Doogan,
who believed that politics could
make the world a better place
I want to thank the usual suspects—my agent, Marcy Posner; my editor, Tom Colgan; and most of all my wife, Kathy—and some unusual ones, the generations of Alaska politicians whose exploits and antics were the inspiration for this book.
B
aby Santos got off the elevator on the fifth floor of the Alaska State Capitol. He pushed his cleaning cart to the right, down the hall, around the corner, and through the propped-open door to the House Finance Committee hearing room. At just after 10 p.m., the room, like all of the offices he’d passed, was empty.
Baby had been cleaning offices here for many years. He knew that if it had been May instead of March, the rooms would be brightly lit and full of people. He was glad it wasn’t the end of the legislative session yet, because working around all those people talk-talk-talking made his job much harder. And the wastepaper they made. Holy Mother!
He took his CD player from the shoe box that held his music. The CD player was old and heavy and his sons, with their iPod Nanos, made fun of him for using it. But the CD player still worked and he saw no reason to get rid of a perfectly good piece of equipment just because there was a newer one.
Baby put the player into a pouch he’d made from canvas and clipped it to his belt. Then he put on his earphones, inserted the new One Vo1ce CD into the player, and hit Play. If Corazon, his wife, found out he was listening to these young girls, he’d never hear the end of it. But he liked the bright, R&B stylings. And the girls. Aiee. Even a man as old as Baby could dream.
He took the thirty-three-gallon plastic garbage can off the cart and started emptying wastebaskets. When he was finished, he took down his vacuum cleaner and ran it over the carpet. He knew some of the other janitors didn’t vacuum every night, but this was his floor and he wanted it just so. Besides, they had spent so much time and money remodeling these offices, it would be a shame to let the carpet get dirty.
When Baby finished that room, he worked his way from office to office, around the corner, along the hallway, and past the elevator to the women’s restroom. He knocked on the door. When no one answered, he snapped on a pair of disposable rubber gloves, picked up the cleaner and some rags, and, leaving his cart in the hall, scrubbed the pedestal toilets and the big, square sinks of thick porcelain. When he was finished, he returned all the cleaning materials, hefted his mop and bucket, and scrubbed the floor. Then he moved on to the wing that belonged to the Senate, going in and out of offices with his garbage can and vacuum. One Vo1ce gave way to Rachel Alejandro, then Rachelle Ann Go. These young women could sing, and, aiee, did they look good.
Baby liked his job, liked being able to listen to music and move along the floor in an orderly fashion. The older he got, the more he liked everything just so. He even liked being able to work during the day on the weekends, because it gave him time to be with his family on some evenings. His boys were teenagers now and needed watching. Once he had been their hero. Now they clashed all the time. Fathers and sons. It was the way of the world.
Baby reached the men’s restroom and looked for his cleaner. It was not in its usual place, with the rags and brushes, but on the bottom of the cart on the opposite side. Odd. Had he put it there? Baby shrugged. As he got older, he forgot many things.
When he was finished with the restroom, he put a Sugar Pie DeSanto CD into his player. She might not have the shape of the young women, but she had twice the voice. Baby had every CD she’d ever made.
Baby pushed his cart around the corner. The doors of the Senate Finance Committee room were propped open, too. In one of the offices at the far end, Baby saw a light. He switched off his CD player, removed his earphones, left his cart where it was, and walked softly through the committee room. The room was Baby’s favorite, a big room that had been a federal courtroom when the building was young, carefully restored, and, since Baby had been doing the cleaning, carefully kept up, too.
Baby’s sneakers made no noise on the thick carpet. He was glad; he wanted to see why the light was on before revealing himself. Once, years before, he’d blundered into that office and found a man, a senator, on top of a woman half his age, on the office’s big, leather couch. How embarrassed everyone was. Holy Mother! Baby didn’t want that to happen again.
He went through the reception area and peeked into the chairman’s office next door. There was a young woman there, but she wasn’t underneath anybody. She lay on the floor beside the desk.
She is wearing no clothes, or not many, Baby thought. Where are her clothes? And what is that pool around her head? Water?
Standing over her, holding something in his hand, was a slim, dark-skinned, dark-haired young man. The young man looked up from the woman’s body, his face contorted in a horrible grimace.
Baby Santos turned and ran out of the office, around the corner and down the hall, screaming with all his might.
