“Compartmentalization is one of the indispensable bulwarks of the detective game,” Easy Rawlins explains midway through Walter Mosley’s latest mystery, BLOOD GROVE.

Set in 1969 in the Watts section of Los Angeles, which is still smoldering from protests and anger, the story begins with the appearance of a white Vietnam veteran, skittish and anxious about a murder he may have committed. Easy, an African American who owns a detective agency, suspects that the young man is lying, but he agrees to look into the matter. Easy experiences trauma from his fighting in World War II, and flashbacks of horrific situations are part of his makeup. As a result, he sympathizes with other people’s trauma.

"Once again, Walter Mosley shows readers that Easy is not only a good detective, he is also a good man."

So Easy compartmentalizes. And as any reader of Mosley’s work can testify, the compartments in any installment of this series contain an astonishing number of characters. Some are old friends from years ago --- Christmas Black, Raymond “Mouse” Alexander and Jackson Blue --- and he trusts these men with his life. Layered into the story are newcomers, all of whom are suspects: Donata Delphine, Eddie Brock and Alonzo. Easy traces the young veteran’s life up to the night that he may have killed a man. What he finds is deceit and greed. Easy’s life as an outsider has taught him to know when to trust and when to walk away. He also has learned when a half-lie is the same as a half-truth.

Another compartment is filled with the love he has for his adopted daughter, Feather. Milo Garnet, her biological uncle, appears on his doorstep and wants to make her aware of her birth family. Feather is growing up to be a lovely young woman, and Easy’s love for her feels threatened by the unknown new influences in her life.

However, the prejudice against Black people cannot be compartmentalized, and it permeates Easy’s life. He recalls incidents from WWII when white soldiers shunned Black soldiers until they were needed. In the first pages of BLOOD GROVE, Easy is driving a new yellow car and is stopped by police demanding proof of ownership. Apparently, he doesn’t belong behind the wheel of a 1968 Rolls-Royce Phantom IV.

Later, as he greets an old friend, a Southern Italian immigrant, Easy asks what is in his hand: “Carving a crucifix for my aunt in Cefalù,” Cosmo Longo replies. “He pulled out the moderate-size red garnet stone that he was slowly fashioning into the religious icon. It was both ornate and primitive, something reminiscent of another homeland, one I had never known.” Mosley reminds readers that he, too, is an immigrant in a foreign land, just not a willing one.

At another moment, Easy explains the difference to Milo, a white man, using the illusion of being lost. Easy is on an island. Milo may think he is on an island, but he is really on a peninsula. If Easy sets out looking for food or company, or maybe a new view, he’ll just walk in a circle. The white man takes the same walk, and he’ll end up back in the bosom of America: hot dogs, women, enough drugs to forget that one time when it seemed like they were in the same jam. Easy encourages Milo to get a crew cut, put on a gray suit and red tie, and test the theory.

Milo sneers. Then he falters. “But that’s wrong,” he says.

“You right,” Easy replies.

No compartment is large enough for the discrimination and prejudice against Black men that Easy encounters. He knows what is happening each time he is subjected to a racial slur, a deliberate, unnecessary search, or the look between white men that confirms their distrust and superiority. He moves on.

BLOOD GROVE ends at the citrus grove where this mystery began, still a complicated and messy story, but with another surprise twist. Easy sees around curves in the road, and he makes immediate decisions that resonate far past the moment. Once again, Walter Mosley shows readers that Easy is not only a good detective, he is also a good man.