It has become common recently to begin a murder mystery by bringing to one place a small cast of characters, one of whom, the reader will notice, is rude, obnoxious and disliked by the rest. That character is doomed.
“Fink” takes place, as usual with this series, in Tuscaloosa, called Shelbyville, and on the campus of the university, at an exhibit of “outsider” or folk art in what we recognize as Woods Hall, called here Alves. Our narrator, James Crawford, is attending with his lady friend Bobby, who is an editor at the university press. Bobby is looking for Natalie Knowles, head of the Art and Art History Department—yes, you are supposed to say it all.
Knowles has promised to review the forthcoming “Outside Art from the Inside.” She has not produced. She had also promised to write a letter of recommendation for her events manager, a worthy young fellow. And didn’t. A “fink,” we learn, is a stoolpigeon, yes, but also one who does not meet his obligations. “He finked out.” Knowles is found with her head bashed in by a rolling pin from a “found art installation.” Mystery one. The art book is missing: mystery two.
Crawford’s TV keeps turning itself on: Haunted? Mystery three. Luckily a paranormal science group is in Alves Hall to determine if it is haunted by a dead Civil War cadet who was shot in a duel and then fell from the second-floor balcony. Knowles intended to have the feral cats of Alves Quad removed, which would probably result in their termination. Cat lovers are passionate. Enough to kill? Crawford, appointed by the provost to solve university murders, gets to work.
The mysteries are of course connected and there are some attempted murders along the way, but the real giggles in this novel are Fitts’s running commentary—bits of word quizzes, little shout-outs and pet peeves—about the school and the town. He and Bobby eat at the Swan in Archibald, the town across the river. (It’s the Globe, in Northport.) They love it. The Women’s Studies Program is in Gerard Hall, what used to be the actual Manly Hall—Gerard Manley Hopkins, get it?
Driving around town, searching for clues or having lunch, Crawford often seems to be in no special hurry. He is occasionally caught in traffic and tells us “Big cities have rush hours. Shelbyville has rush minutes.” Several times he tells us how difficult parking is on campus. (He’s not wrong.) Parking rules are rigidly enforced, even on weekends: “Parking tickets are a source of income.”
We are told several times about Crawford’s pets, how he feeds the dog once a day, but the cat, fussy as cats can be, is irritated if she can see the bottom of her dish, ever.
This is the seventh in the “Needed Killing” series. Clearly the Shelbyville campus is even more dangerous than Cabot Cove.
