“Presumed Guilty” by Scott Turow, Book Review
It’s been a minute.
Legal-eagle turned author, Scott Turow, published his widely successful Presumed Innocent in (gulp) 1987.
The 1990 film, starring Harrison Ford and the Apple TV series starring Jake Gyllenhaal, based on the “Innocent” novel, are both widely successful.
The “sequel” or follow-on, Presumed Guilty was formally released January 16th. I was sent a complimentary pre-release copy to review. Here’s my take:
If you don’t remember the details of Innocent or hadn’t read it, no frets.
You’ll enjoy the mystery and moral complexity of Guilty regardless. It’s a compelling courtroom murder mystery of the highest order. And a “guilty” pleasure to read. (Sorry, couldn’t resist that).
The plotline in Guilty shares a bit of Innocent’s pedigree, insofar as the protagonist is the same Rusty Sabich, the prosecutor, and in the ensuing years, a retired judge ~ with issues. The author doesn’t have Rusty frozen in amber, though. In Guilty, Rusty has aged, just like Turow, now in his mid-seventies. The personal reflections of the man in full makes for added interest.
Rusty maintains his style as an interior character; his mastery of the courtroom and legalese. There is the same conflict of interest that agitates the dynamic, and while the reader is led to be more interested in the characters and their relationships, there is the similar plotline that the wrong someone is being accused of murder.
There’s even references to Rusty’s former wife Barbara and his jail time for her murder of which he was exonerated. As the author, Turow tap dances a bit with it and leaves some interesting Easter eggs…
Plus, both novels are peppered with lots of clues, clues, and more clues.
If you’re a Nancy Drew buff or a Sherlock Holmes or Columbo, this is the book for you.
The plot of Guilty is a community involved in a murder and cover up. You can smell it. But who actually used that rope?
Mae Potter ~ the beautiful blond, rich girl from a family dynasty who wields significant political power in the Midwest locale of Skageon County and in a nod to Innocent, also a Kindle Country, near Minneapolis where the story is set. A long line of Waspy, legal judgeships and elected prosecutors.
At twenty-something,Mae remains the object of every boy’s affection and works to garner the hatred of all. In other words, she’s a bitch.
She’s also in love with Aaron, the adopted black son of Bea, Rusty’s longed-for love after his trials and jail time and future wife (he hopes.) They are kinda’ engaged but Bea won’t settle on a wedding date).
Mae and Aaron have a very tumultuous relationship, riddled with drugs and fights and family objections that share a throughline with the Montagues and the Capelets; peppered with little-concealed racism.
Reading the novel, I often wished that the blonde girl and black boy weren’t employed as such easy tropes.
It comes to pass that Aaron and Mae arrange to spend some time together, alone and off the grid, out in the surrounding woods and wilderness to determine if they're meant to be together. To be married. Aaron, who has served time taking the hit for her drug possession breaks some elements of his probation, in order to accommodate Mae and determine if their destiny is meant to be.
What ensues is a communications abyss.
After a frantic Bea, his mother, and Rusty’s repeated attempts to locate Aaron fail, he finally returns home but in radio silence. They can’t get him to tell them what happened, only they had a big fight and he hitchhiked home.
Meanwhile, Mae’s prolonged absence eventually turns into the discovery of her dead body.
Aaron then flees home to find her and achieve some kind of cosmic peace in the place where her body was reportedly found. He borrows his obstinate, mean, but loving grandfather, Joe’s truck and heads back to the woods.
It doesn’t take long until Aaron is arrested on first-degree murder charges.
Bea begs Rusty to take on the case and defend Aaron. He can’t refuse. He doesn't want to lose Bea and his dignity; moreover, he wants to believe in the justice system ~ that we’re all presumed innocent until…
There are enough viable suspects in the story to keep it suspenseful. I thought I had it at around page 200. I was wrong.
Throughout the courtroom drama, of which Turow does a masterful job of explaining everything without becoming too expository, I, as the reader, came to fully embrace Rusty’s point that the DA doesn’t need to prove who actually committed the murder, rather all he has to prove is that his client didn’t do it ~ That he (or she) is innocent.
How Rusty pursues the elements of the case and turns what appeared to be hard evidence ~ even to Bea ~ around so that “thinking outside of the box” is a thoughtful pursuit that commands attention, is what drives the plot. As the reader, you find yourself astonished that what you thought was a sure-fire fact, was turned on its head and now you see things in an entirely different light. This is a very rigorous exercise in assumptions. And red herrings. And twists.
I honestly got so hooked into seeing Aaron proved innocent that I didn’t think or care who actually did the murder. I didn’t think it would become part of the story. But like Presumed Innocent, there is the shocker at the end that I didn’t see coming. (No spoiler here!)
In the end, I wished that the relied-upon tropes of black boy with drug problem and jail time weren’t such a convenient ploy. And that he was adopted and dropped into a super white, née racist-learning community is kinda’ too much shorthand.
And why does every pretty blonde have to be the bitch who everyone else needs to hate? When she ends up murdered, there’s little sympathy, sucking some of the drama or emotion from the story. Who cares, most seem to shrug.
That said, there is plenty of action and passion in solving the case. The writing navigates the obvious and the intricacies of the situation. The plethora of clues, turning the supposed evidence on its head; and the big quest if you will, that of whether Rusty should allow Aaron to testify on his own behalf despite his experience telling him this is Not a good strategy.
It keeps you chewing your nails. (Rusty almost took the stand in Innocent but because of the mistrial, didn’t need to. But it is the same dilemma. Yes, I was compelled to order up the Harrison version of the film on Amazon to watch again before I wrote this review… It holds up very well. Worth rewatching.)
The added storylines of infidelity ~ multiples ~ adds intrigue and suspicions.
The dynamics of the characters: the rather benevolent judge who needs this case, and Rusty, for her career; the prototype “evil” prosecutor till he’s not, the frenemy Potters, and the families and friends, all make for shifting alliances and intrigue.
And let me remind you, that surprise ending, along with proving true justice for someone who is presumed guilty is a satisfying read.
You're’ gonna love this book.
Again, thank you Hachette Book Group for the complimentary copy and the opportunity to review. Congratulations. And to the author, Scott Turow, the original and best legal thrillers; who has written thirteen bestselling works of fiction. And two nonfiction books. This attorney knows how to spin a great story.
