So begins the third Filomena Buscarsela novel, The Glass Factory. As unrelentingly severe as the previous two (the Edgar-nominated 23 Shades of Black and Soft Money), The Glass Factory opens as Fil learns she is dying of lung cancer caused by the toxic wastes she encountered in a previous case. Stunned by the news, Fil’s two immediate goals are to get her sweet 3-year-old daughter settled with family and to exact revenge on the man responsible for her condition. Her unswerving determination to see justice done is the storyline for The Glass Factory.

Through drug and alcohol abuse and just plain bad luck, Fil lost the most meaningful job she had, that of a New York city beat cop, and has been drifting in a sea of minimum-wage, dead end jobs ever since. Now clean and sober, but barely getting by, the only bright spot in Fil’s life is her daughter, Antonia, the product of a short, ill-fated affair with the wrong kind of guy. But family is family, so Fil goes to Long Island where Raul the Bum’s sister and teenagers live and Antonia can get acquainted with the people who may end up raising her. Not so coincidentally, Long Island is also the location of the manufacturing empire of one Samuel Morse, millionaire, mass polluter and unproven murderer.

Once settled in with her proxy in-laws, Fil begins the disheartening tasks of finding work and getting health care. She lands an entry-level job in Morse’s factory, with the vague idea of finding something she can have him prosecuted for. Fil’s outlook is wry, just this side of bitter, and she’s working in a frenzy because of her declining health. She quickly befriends a sleazy lawyer, a retired factory worker and a young, idealistic socialite, all who become her unknowing field operatives. They find enough to bring in the EPA and cripple, but not kill, Morse’s business, and the investigations bring Fil to Morse’s negative attention. In a quirky twist of Fate, it is a seemingly insignificant piece of evidence in an old murder case that gives Fil the ammunition she needs.

I have admired Filomena from the premiere novel, back when I thought k.j.a. Wishnia was a woman, but I think even the author would agree that Filomena is not exactly a light-hearted character. She is one of those people you can’t really warm up to, but respect her drive and passion anyway. The portrayal of being poor and being sick, of having intelligence and pride but little else, are stark enough to make you say a silent “thanks” for whatever good things you have in your life. And the grim statistics on the air and water pollution surrounding Long Island will certainly earn no points from the Long Island Chamber of Commerce!

Those who read for escape won’t care for The Glass Factory’s in-your-face reality, but it has the strength to stir the reader’s conscience and for that it deserves four stars.

--K. W. Becker