Nevertheless, on a house hunting expedition with Fredricka Friendly, the local real estate agent, Trotman is taken with the Lapere house and its majestic White Pine, said to be one of the last original pines in the state. Despite Mrs. Friendly’s not too subtle comment that there was a nice African American community over in nearby Gull Lake, Trotman stands his ground by reminding his agent that the police chief must live in the town in which he works.

Before Trotman can venture further in his attempts to become a homeowner, police business interrupts. The body of a white male is found in the town cemetery. The victim is a local and he is readily identified, but Trotman is upset because his deputy, Billy Budd, who discovered the victim, notified the mayor, the fire chief, and the doctor before he called his boss. The natives, relying on the intricate gossip network in their small town, are out in force by the time Trotman reaches the crime scene. Any hope of recovering any useful crime scene evidence is long gone, as the natives have assured the scene has been compromised.

The locals attribute the death to the malevolent influence of the stately white pine that overlooks the graveyard. Trotman, however, is certain there are in truth other factors and people at work. He soon learns that solving crimes in rural Port Ottawa is much less straightforward than in Detroit, but no less challenging. The individual personalities of the populous are as essential to the successful resolution of a case as the examination of the evidence of the crime scene.

Death on Grave Street is marketed as a police procedural mystery in the British tradition. Often mysteries of this type focus on the workings of an individual police department with several policemen playing important roles. There are usually several unrelated crimes, which are being simultaneously investigated by different people within the police department. This book varies significantly from this model. There are several crimes under investigation, but, because they are localized within the community and have some commonalities, are thought to be related. There is, in truth, only one investigator, the newly arrived Tyrone Trotman. Trotman, as well as the reader, is totally ignorant of the dynamics of Port Ottawa. The author spends considerable time communicating the essentials to both her readers and the police chief in a not very efficient manner.

In light of the fact that personalities are a key part of the story, it would seem to be mandatory to develop deep, complex characters from the outset. I did not find this to be true in this novel. Despite their distinctive names, (Fredricka Friendly, Butts Strong, Tom Clunk, Phil Harris, Pete Doyle, Homestead Claphart, to name a few) I had difficulty remembering professions, and distinctive personality traits of the cast. They were more cardboard representations than real people. I had little emotional investment in any of them either positive or negative. They did not succeed in making me part of their world.

The setting, though pointedly stated as Michigan’s “Thumb,” is not a vital force in the novel. With the exception of a brief discussion of the importance of the white pine to the economy of Michigan in the 1800’s there is little feeling in the book that the action takes place in a special, unique setting. No descriptive passages make the reader feel the climate or the terrain or the closeness of Lake Huron. The pine in the graveyard is important, but there is no reason why this pine couldn’t be in Canada, or Flagstaff, Arizona.

If the characters or the setting are not significant, then the plot should be outstanding to carry the day. Unfortunately, in Death on Grave Street the plot is not riveting either. First one body, then another appears in the cemetery but there is little presented to engage the reader’s interest. The solution to the crimes does make sense, but the author tells rather than lets the reader figure out who the perpetrator is and why the crimes were committed. The reader is left with little sense of accomplishment or consternation at his stupidity because he failed to correctly interpret the clues.

--Andy Plonka