-Click here to read Joe Hartlaub's review.

Review #1 by Tom Callahan

We read and love mysteries more than just to find out “Who done it?” Mysteries are our ticket to ride and see places we would never see in our ordinary lives. Think of Raymond Chandler taking us on a tour of the “mean streets” of Los Angeles under the guidance of his private eye, Philip Marlowe. Half a century later, Walter Mosley took us on those streets again, but this time our guide was an African American detective named Easy Rawlins.

Now, through the invaluable work of Hard Case Crime, we get a peek behind the curtain of the glamorous art world, where parties are elaborate, paintings sell for millions, and murder and decadence are as prominent as the work hanging on the gallery walls.

Richard Vine is the managing editor of the prestigious Art in America magazine. He knows the art world, having written hundreds of essays on contemporary art, curated museum exhibitions in India and China, and traveled the world as a critic. If the old bromide to aspiring writers is to “write what you know,” Vine certainly knows art.

"If you are in the mood for an enjoyable summer weekend or vacation read, you can’t go wrong with SOHO SINS. It is one of the best mysteries of 2016."

SOHO SINS is Vine’s first novel, and it is a terrific read. Yet again, Hard Case Crime has introduced the mystery world to a talented first-time crime author. In true hard-boiled tradition, the book grabs the reader with its opening sentence: “I slept rather badly the first few nights after Amanda’s murder.” And it does not let go until the final page.

One of the greatest mystery writers who ever lived, Evan Hunter, better known by his pen name of Ed McBain, once told me that a mystery starts with a dead body or somebody who is about to become a dead body. In this book, that unfortunate distinction falls upon Amanda Oliver, second wife of rich tech entrepreneur Philip Oliver. The Olivers define the jet set art world.

Vine writes, “The whiskey helped me nod off quickly, but my mind came alert again just before three AM, chanted awake by the refrain of ‘Philip and Amanda Oliver.’ That was how the art world had celebrated my friends for years, their names run together like the scientific term for a rare, vanishing species: the SoHo conjugal pair. On the donor list of countless arts organizations, among the lender credits for major exhibitions, embossed on museum-opening invitations, sparkling from the lips of Park Avenue hostesses: Philip and Amanda Oliver --- Phil and Mandy. Or sometimes just ‘P and M’ to their close friends and would-be intimates.”

When Amanda is found murdered in her SoHo loft, the case seems to be quickly solved when Philip walks into a police precinct and announces that he thinks he shot his wife. Problems quickly arise when eyewitnesses put Philip in Los Angeles at the time of the shooting and with Philip’s own credibility. He is in the final, terminal stages of a degenerative brain disorder that makes him uncertain of everything.

Art dealer Jackson Wyeth soon sets out to find out if his friend, Philip, could have committed such a crime. Other suspects soon emerge in the form of Philip’s first wife and current Italian model girlfriend. His investigation will eventually uncover a child pornography ring and the dark side of the trendy art scene.

Wyeth’s retired cop friend gives him some advice at one point. ‘“Just be careful… These people you’re hanging out with… It would be easy to lose touch.’ He glanced back at me, held my eyes. ‘When you believe in nothing,’ he said, ‘you’ll fall for anything.’”

That is about as good a definition of noir as you could ask for. Do not be distracted by the pretty things hanging on the walls and ignore the darkness behind those walls. If you are in the mood for an enjoyable summer weekend or vacation read, you can’t go wrong with SOHO SINS. It is one of the best mysteries of 2016.

Review #2 by Joe Hartlaub

The Hard Case Crime imprint is indispensable. It keeps a publishing tradition alive that never really entirely went away while making it even better than it ever was. Those of us who are of a certain age will recall seeing the revolving wire paperback racks in drugstores and supermarkets. They were stuffed to the brim with mystery and detective fiction advertised --- sometimes falsely, but always wonderfully --- by garish covers that usually featured one of the seven deadly sins (and one in particular). Hard Case Crime continues that practice and makes it better, reprinting old and rare books (those paperbacks were constantly being shoved aside by newer siblings week after week), as well as new, quality novels of a similar vein.

"SOHO SINS is a marvel, one of those books that transcends genres while staying true to its home form. I loved every word of it, even the ones that weren’t there."

The newly published SOHO SINS falls into the latter category. It is the first novel by Richard Vine. With credits ranging from editing a highly respected art magazine to authoring hundreds of essays and two nonfiction books about contemporary art, Vine is no stranger to wordcraft. But how does he do with fiction? To be succinct, SOHO SINS is everything you would want it to be and more. You get a hint of his immense talent from the opening sentence, which is understated and intriguing, a few words that plant the hook in the reader as early as possible.

The narrative is performed in the first person by Jackson Wyeth, a fabulous name for a dealer in fine art. Wyeth is not a detective by trade or inclination, but he is sucked into the role when Amanda Oliver is murdered. Amanda is the wife of Philip Oliver, Wyeth’s best friend. The police aren’t looking for the murderer, because Philip confessed to it within hours after the shooting. There is one problem, though: It may well have been impossible for Philip to have done the deed. Wyeth begins investigating, hoping to clear his friend while also trying to ascertain why Philip would have confessed to a crime that he (almost) certainly did not commit.

Here we have an interesting, tantalizing mystery that forms the heart of SOHO SINS, but by no means is it the only reason to buy and read this book. Wyeth --- as one might expect from the position he holds, the things he has seen and the company he keeps --- is full of fascinating stories and facts about art and the art world, many of which find their way into the narrative. Even if you cannot tell a Paul Klee painting from one by Paul Signac (and no, I can’t either), you will find yourself caring about such things by the time you finish the book. In addition, Wyeth makes an observation early on about marriages that survive the term, which is worth the price of admission all by itself. It’s followed by several others that don’t for a moment interfere with the flow of the story.

All of it --- the amateur investigation at hand, the interaction of the strange, wonderful and godawful personalities that populate the art world, and who is doing what to who --- makes this book a treasure, from its beginning to its enigmatic and haunting climax full of heart, loss and, in its way, hope.

SOHO SINS is a marvel, one of those books that transcends genres while staying true to its home form. I loved every word of it, even the ones that weren’t there. As with notes in jazz, sometimes the most important parts of the story are the ones that are left out.