London Falling

 An element of Gothic storytelling is "the inexplicable." A shape in the doorway might be a vampire--or it might be just an odd effect of lighting. I love this uncertainty--it's maybe the thing that I love *most* in storytelling. I love it in true crime, as well; I almost feel deflated when a crime is actually solved. One of my favorite stories--about the DC townhouse--has three men conspiring to murder a friend. The friends claim they are innocent--but the facts suggest that this is almost impossible. But if they *are* guilty, then they are living (year after year!) with a terrible secret. This seems (additionally) impossible--at least to me.

Patrick Radden Keefe is part of a dying breed--the breed of "the star journalist." His golden era began with "Say Nothing," in which he described a cold case from Ireland's troubled history. At the end of the book, he actually solved the case. He presented a hypothesis that seemed more or less airtight. He found a truth that no one--no investigator--had located. People had been searching for decades.

In "London Falling," Keefe has, once again, solved a mystery. I'm going to spoil everything here. Also, you might find reasons to doubt Keefe's hypothesis--but I at least feel certain that he has unearthed the truth. Keefe is so bright, and so tireless, that he always, always persuades me to see the world as he sees it. (Part of his seductive act is to not *care* whether you are persuaded. Please argue with me, he says. I'm just putting together the puzzle in a way that makes sense to me.)

A little boy, Zac, is born a psychopath. The difficulties don't really emerge until adolescence. As a teen, Zac begins to emulate the DiCaprio character from "The Wolf of Wall Street." He begins to hang out with thugs and involve himself in drug deals, real estate deals. He becomes violent. He distances himself from his family. One night, a camera records something odd. Zac walks onto a balcony attached to a high-rise. He looks to the West of the Thames. He paces. He looks to the East of the Thames. He walks to the middle of the balcony--and he jumps to his death.

This appears to be a suicide--and that's the conclusion that an incompetent detective arrives at. (Keefe is unsparing in his criticism of the London police.)

Here is what really happened.

London is cluttered with oligarchs--men who have ties to Putin's Russia. If you're an oligarch, then a gang of Tony Soprano figures will surround you. The Tony Sopranos will bleed you of your cash. They will offer "protection services"--and suddenly you're writing checks. Zac attracted the attention of two Tony Sopranos by posing as the child of a Russian oligarch. When it became increasingly clear that Zac was telling lies, the Tony Sopranos began to make threats. For example: "Cough up some money now, or we will heat a knife on a flame--then brand your flesh."

It was the knife threat that caused Zac to jump. He wasn't attempting suicide. He thought that he could land in the Thames and swim to safety. (An optical illusion made the river seem closer than it was.) While jumping, Zac bashed his hip on a stone wall--became unconscious--lost his ability to fend for himself. He died.

One of the Tony Sopranos witnessed these events. The other was not physically present (but more or less connected by iPhone). The first Tony Soprano committed suicide--but the second has continued to tell (apparently blithe, casual) lies about the night in question--and he has never faced jail time.

Keefe's book has inspired some criticism. One writer said, "It's a brutal anecdote, not a story. Zac is not very compelling--he is just a self-absorbed kid. Not a great post to hang your story on." I'm sympathetic to the critic--but I still find the "anecdote" compelling. Keefe is such a deep thinker, he sheds light on London's history, on the nature of families, on the role of Internet technology in child development. It's also just a pleasure to watch his mind making sense of baffling half-truths. I don't know how Keefe does what he does. Beyond his narrative talent, he has a certain fearlessness. He finds--and speaks to--and records the thoughts of deeply disturbed characters. It's possible that he is risking his own life--if not the lives of his family members. This is crazy stuff.

So--anecdote or not--this book has my admiration. I can't wait for Keefe's next move.