Everybody Knows

15

I will admit that my book stamina sometimes wanes. I will open a book, start my reading and then fall off. Sometimes it’s just a matter of timing. Other times I’m just not motivated to continue with novels that feel more like reading assignments than they do something I should be enjoying. And, yeah, sometimes there are novels that are slogs. And then there are others that are compelling because of their narrative, writing style or other. On that spectrum, Everybody Knows is certainly a propulsive read and one I was always happy to jump back into before going to sleep. In some ways this is a function of the crime fiction genre, but author Jordan Harper certainly knows how to spin a yarn and create central characters who feel both realistic, but also genre-specific in a way that feels familiar.

Los Angeles neo-noir crime fiction is in itself a thing. It often has a bit of a Hollywood bent and profiles the grit in and amongst the sunshine. And always some involvement with LAPD, crooked or otherwise. There isn’t the gray, rainy trench coat weather, or the kind of organized criminal organizations that you might find in other parts of the country, usually subbing in cops as the heavies on that front. Sanctioned violence. In this case we have two central characters: public relations Hollywood fixer, Mae Pruett, and ex-cop and current heavy for this weird Hollywood amalgam of PR firms, lawyers and private security nicknamed “The Beast,” Chris Tamburro. The novel setup starts off with alternating perspectives as we see the two of them start on a couple seemingly unconnected cases involving drugs and extortion and celebrities. You know, typical fare for these types of tales. Mae is a smooth operator on the surface, but we can see that she bristles at some of the lies and stagecraft she must employ to help what are pretty despicable characters. Chris, on the other hand, is basically a dude who threatens and breaks fingers. Something he clearly employed as a cop (and the main reason he’s no longer on the force) but is merely a means to an end and not necessarily where Chris thinks his strongest talents lie. He’s a hammer, but in his mind he’s a nail.

We have to assume these two are on a collision course of some sort, though it’s not clear exactly how that’s going to come together and why. The catalyst for them joining forces is the murder of Mae’s boss, Dan. Dan is on his way to meet Mae to share a secret with her that is going to be a serious, life-changing score — presumably through nefarious means of blackmail or otherwise — when he is murdered in a car-jacking gone wrong. This killing obviously spooks Mae and is suspicious in the worst kind of way. Tenuous connections to the possible murder via The Beast thrusts Chris into the picture, Mae bringing him into her confidence to investigate who and why Dan was killed and what this huge secret was that got him got. We learn through their partnership that the two of them have history. As boyfriend / girlfriend. Now, this is where I kind of felt the novel stumbled a bit. Mae is this high-powered, black-bag publicist who may personally be a bit of a mess, but is also moves seamlessly this glossy world amongst celebs and their handlers. Chris is a rough-around-the-edges corrupt cop who basically intimidates and beats the shit out of people for a living. The setup of their characters in no way gave an inkling that they would be each others’ types. Why they’d be pulled together now, I get. People bottomed out by the soul-sucking lives they’ve led in an industry where they work to protect the worst of the worst and seeking to redeem themselves in the face of all that (even if this isn’t the original impetuous), but their attraction to one another and especially Mae’s love for this sloppy brute of a man (who seems to constantly be eating Asian food) is never made entirely clear or realistic.

Putting aside the relationship piece — because I’ve found crime fiction novels are rarely focused on those human emotions, or even fundamentally honest pairings that don’t drive plot — the narrative moves ahead, spinning a spreading web of terribleness that involves themes that will feel incredibly relevant in 2026. And, yes, I’m talking about Epstein. I’d rather that I wasn’t, but that secret that Dan had that got him shot to death was Epsteinian in its nature. Granted, Dan wanted to leverage that information for a payday and not to put a stop to it, which is… Well, not exactly the most altruistic stance. So this is where we find our protagonists. Are Mae and Chris just going to pick up this string and get that payoff that Dan wasn’t able to, or are they going to do the right thing and break up the ring that may go all the way to the top? Cash or redemption for all the bad shit they’ve done? There is a bit of a template for these tales — or at least it certainly feels like it is based on the relatively small number of these types of novels I’ve read. There is an inciting event. The investigation into this event uncovers this cabal of low-level players, and something violent and horrible happens to them that exposes the layer above them. Then, just when you think that’s the top of the pyramid, you come to realize that, no, this thing is way bigger than anyone could have imagined. And then, of course, our main characters have to decide if it’s worth risking it all to bring down the big Eye of Sauron sitting atop it all.

As this situation evolves, the bodies stack up. Mae is conveniently always recounting for us exactly who has been murdered to date. And this novel is nothing if it’s not violent. Chris gets the absolute crap kicked out of him several times. Like a James Ellroy novel where characters seemingly have the same set of teeth knocked out multiple times, Chris somehow survives his injuries in each case in a way that any normal human would require quite a bit of convalescence in a hospital. But, as Chris takes literal wounds, Mae takes psychic ones and the two of them work their consciousnesses to an end point. The issues for us, as readers, is that their conclusion doesn’t necessarily make for a satisfying one for us. Harper has ginned up this grand conspiracy, pulled us into a final boss battle and then just kind of leaves us with this push-the-button-and-trigger-what-comes-next ending. As if he’s setting us up for a part two that will never come. It feels lopsided. Like he spent 350 pages building up this whole world of zombies closing in on our hero (as an example), only to spend the last three pages having her run into the hills after setting the nuclear bomb to destroy them all before cutting to black. Leaving us to speculate the future that comes about after the bomb goes off. I suppose in some way it’s a classic cynical ending, but it also feels somewhat unfinished. The positive spin here is that I was reading with such ferocity that I didn’t even realize I was near the end of the book (Kindles will do that) and was surprised to swipe to the next screen with great anticipation only to have it kick over to the “acknowledgments” section. Whatever the case, this was a very entertaining read and a great example of the genre. (And at one point I’m pretty sure one of the characters drove by my high school.) If you’re into that type of thing.