Letters

Letters 08-31-2015

Inalienable Rights This is a response to the “No More State Theatre” in your August 24th edition. I think I will not be the only response to this pathetic and narrow-minded letter that seems rather out of place in the northern Michigan that I know. To think we will not be getting your 25 cents for the movie you refused to see, but more importantly we will be without your “two cents” on your thoughts of a marriage at the State Theatre...

Enthusiastically Democratic Since I was one of the approximately 160 people present at when Senator Debbie Stabenow spoke on August 14 in Charlevoix, I was surprised to read in a letter to Northern Express that there was a “rather muted” response to Debbie’s announcement that she has endorsed Hillary Clinton for president...

Not Hurting I surely think the State Theatre will survive not having the homophobic presence of Colleen Smith and her family attend any matinees. I think “Ms.” Smith might also want to make sure that any medical personnel, bank staff, grocery store staff, waiters and/or waitress, etc. are not homosexual before accepting any service or product from them...

Stay Home I did not know whether to laugh or cry when I read the letter of the extremely homophobic, “disgusted” writer. She now refuses to patronize the State Theatre because she evidently feels that its confines have been poisoned by the gay wedding ceremony held there...

Keep Away In response to Colleen Smith of Cadillac who refused to bring her family to the State Theatre because there was a gay wedding there: Keep your 25 cents and your family out of Traverse City...

Celebrating Moore And A Theatre I was 10 years old when I had the privilege to see my first film at the State Theatre. I will never forget that experience. The screen was almost the size of my bedroom I shared with my older sister. The bursting sounds made me believe I was part of the film...

Outdated Thinking This letter is in response to Colleen Smith. She made public her choice to no longer go to the State Theater due to the fact that “some homosexuals” got married there. I’m not outraged by her choice; we don’t need any more hateful, self-righteous bigots in our town. She can keep her 25 cents...

Mackinac Pipeline Must Be Shut Down Crude oil flowing through Enbridge’s 60-yearold pipeline beneath the Mackinac Straits and the largest collection of fresh water on the planet should be a serious concern for every resident of the USA and Canada. Enbridge has a very “accident” prone track record...

Your Rights To Colleen, who wrote about the State Theatre: Let me thank you for sharing your views; I think most of us are well in support of the first amendment, because as you know- it gives everyone the opportunity to express their opinions. I also wanted to thank Northern Express for not shutting down these types of letters right at the source but rather giving the community a platform for education...

No Role Model [Fascinating Person from last week’s issue] Jada quoted: “I want to be a role model for girls who are interested in being in the outdoors.” I enjoy being in the outdoors, but I don’t want to kill animals for trophy...

Home · Articles · News · Books · The Last Place Finishes First
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The Last Place Finishes First

Nancy Sundstrom - October 24th, 2002
Make no mistake about it, “The Last Place“ is a first-rate thriller.
“The Last Place“ is the seventh book in a mystery series about Baltimore, MD detective Tess Monaghan from real-life Baltimore Sun reporter Laura Lippman, whose previous novels, “The Sugar House,“ “Baltimore Blues,“ “Charm City,“ “Butcher‘s Hill,“ and “In Big Trouble,“ have won the Edgar, Agatha, Shamus, and Anthony Awards.
Like fellow Baltimorians film makers John Waters and Barry Levinson, she loves the city she lives in and has found it a rich backdrop for her well-conceived series, whose strongest asset is her savvy, wise-cracking, independent former reporter turned private investigator Monaghan.
This is a woman who knows what to do with a perp stalker from the Internet who needs to be taught a lesson: pretend to want to meet and be alone with him, slip him a taste of his own medicine in the form of a date-rape drug, slather him with depilatory cream, and leave him in a public place to come ro. The end result should be that he won’t repeat his sins again, but the act also puts her into court-ordered anger management sessions with a shrink.
Seven must be a lucky number for Lippman, because this is hands-down the best effort in the thriller genre since “The Emperor of Ocean Park“ and “The Beach House“ earlier this summer. The author has clearly not been content to rest upon her previous successes and adds a number of new twists in this outing, most notably, that heroine Tess is being watched from the very beginning of the tale by stalker she’ll soon encounter in a game that gets more dangerous by the minute.
Lippman sets the scene from the first chapter, where Tess and her best friend are musing over what can be done to teach a lesson to the creep a young relative has met through the Internet:

“It seemed like a good idea at the time.
Tess Monaghan was sitting outside a bar in the Baltimore suburbs. It was early spring, the mating season, and this bland but busy franchise was proof that birds do it, bees do it, even Baltimore County yuppies in golf pants and Top-Siders do it.
“Kind of a benign hangout for a child molester,“ Tess said to Whitney Talbot, her oldest friend, her college roomie, her literal partner in crime on a few occasions. “Although it is convenient to several area high schools, as well as Towson University and Goucher.“
“Possible child molester,“ Whitney corrected from the driver‘s seat of the Suburban. Whitney‘s vehicles only seemed to get bigger over the years, no matter what the price of gas was doing. “We don‘t have proof that he knew how young Mercy was when this started. Besides, she‘s sixteen, Tess. You were having sex at sixteen.“
“Yeah, with other sixteen-year-olds. But if he came after your cousin -- “...The two friends stared morosely through the windshield, stumped by the stubborn deviancy of men. They had saved one girl from this pervert‘s clutches. But the world had such a large supply of girls, and an even larger supply of perverts. The least they could do was reduce the pervert population by one. But how?...It had been six weeks since Whitney had first come to Tess with this little family drama, the saga of her cousin and what she had been doing on the Internet late at night. Correction: second cousin, once removed. The quality of Mercy was definitely strained, weakened by intermarriage and a few too many falls in the riding ring.
And perhaps Mercy would have been a trimester into the unplanned pregnancy she had been bucking for, if it weren‘t for a late-night hunger pang. Mercy was foraging for provisions in the kitchen when her computer-illiterate mother had entered her bedroom just in time to hear the sparkly thrush of music that accompanies an IM and seen this succinct question: “Are you wearing panties?“ Within days, Mercy‘s hard drive had been dissected, revealing a voluminous correspondence between her and a man who claimed to be a twenty-five-year-old stockbroker. Mercy‘s parents had pulled the plug, literally and figuratively, on her burgeoning romance.
But by Whitney‘s calculation, that left one miscreant free to roam, continuing his panty census.
It had been Tess‘s idea to search for Music Loverr in his world. With the help of a computer-savvy friend, they created a dummy account for a mythical creature known as Varsity Grrl and began exploring the crevices of the Internet, looking for those places where borderline pedophiles were most likely to stalk their prey.“

After the attack on the potential molester and as a distraction from the therapy she’s been ordered into, Tess agrees to look into a series of unsolved homicides that cover the past six years. The assignment comes at the request of a wealthy Baltimore benefactor who was a mentor to Tess early in her new career and has been linked to the murder of Crow, a former, younger boyfriend of Tess.
Each of the deaths in the series seems linked by domestic violence, and little else, but Tess begins finding clues that point to involvement by a serial killer. As she connects seemingly random dots, along with the help of a retired police officer obsessed with the cases (after finding the head of one of the victims in the middle of a bridge), a cat-and-mouse game ensues that looks like it could lead to her being the next victim. Even more frightening is the dawning knowledge that the unifying factor in the crimes is Tess herself.
Lippman draws her protagonist and predator closer together in a page turning dance that has a number of underlying themes, including class privilege, Internet stalking, and the way violent crime can shatter the lives of both a victim and their family members. This is a taut, engrossing tale that emerges as the best of the series so far. If you haven’t met yet Tess Monaghan, this is the opportunity to do so.


 
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