Having been out of the legal sphere for a good year, Izzy McNeil is worried that her well-honed skills are going to waste. So when her friend Maggie Bristol dangles the opportunity to come on board a murder trial, Izzy doesn’t hesitate–even though her background is in civil, not criminal, law. But where Maggie’s “what I don’t know won’t hurt me” attitude means that she’s happy to learn as little as possible about her clients’ guilt or innocence, Izzy’s after more than reasonable doubt. Convinced that there’s more to defendant Valerie Solara’s story than she’s being told, Izzy begins an investigation of her own into Solara’s past, turning up no few skeletons.

But it’s not just mere murder that Izzy has to deal with. Her personal life is a shambles, and interferes more than the prosecution. There’s her ex-fiance Sam, who after a substantial absence (and some worrying dodgy dealings in South America), arrives back on the scene with an announcement that although he’s currently engaged, he’ll drop his current partner like a rock should Izzy give him the go-ahead. There’s Izzy’s dad, who has also made a comeback, although in this instance from thought-to-be-dead status. There’s Izzy’s new boy toy partner, Theo, about whom Izzy feels ambivalent, particularly with Sam back on the scene. And of course there’s the small matter of getting her stalled career back on track.

Claim of Innocence is, it turns out, part of a series, and I must admit a touch of bewilderment throughout the first chapter or so as I acclimatised myself to the various plot threads and characters whose existence had been mapped out in previous books. There’s very  much a fish-out-of-water feel for the reader until introductions are made, and the characters and situations are teased out–which, thankfully, happens after a chapter or two, although there are plenty of plot turns that to a reader familiar with the series would feel a little more smooth. Caldwell’s writing style is quick and blunt, with nary a metaphor or simile dirtying the page: it’s dialogue and action all the way. In a way, this works, as the reader sails along at such a pace that there’s little time to question some of the clunkier elements of the novel (two of mine were: why is a civil lawyer taking on a criminal case? and why on earth would anyone so much as entertain Sam’s bizarre ultimatum, let alone meet him in a hotel to “discuss” it?). The brevity of the prose style makes light work of the many court room scenes of the novel, too, making what could be some seriously turgid scenes relatively painless.

The main mystery element of the novel unfolds quite neatly, although there are more red herrings here than at a fishmonger’s, and Caldwell isn’t subtle about casting doubt on certain characters–there are plenty of lowered glances, clammy hands, low voices, pointed fingers and mysterious absences going on. While it’s clear from the start that not everything is as it seems, the eventual reveal of the motivations behind the murder (and indeed the intended victim of the murder) didn’t quite work for me. A jointly executed cold-blooded murder in these circumstances seems a little over-the-top, and one can’t help but wonder why those in question didn’t give an ultimatum of their own, or simply pick up the phone and call the authorities instead (yes, that’s a rather oblique description, I know, but this is a mystery novel, and I don’t want to invite tomato-hurling for revealing every twist in the book).

But perhaps what weakens the book is that there’s so much going on, and so much of it in parallel: everything seems to happen twice, perhaps from an authorial fear of the reader not getting it. We have two men returning from the past and bringing with them certain baggage with which Izzy has to deal; two lonely private eyes trying to make it in the world; two separate women trying to figure out whether a fun boy toy relationship is all they’re after, or whether it’s something more (and indeed whether that younger man can be that something more). We even have two mysteries: the current court trial, and a separate but related closed case from some years earlier, the latter of which towards the end of the novel becomes the narrative focus, detracting somewhat from the impact of the final reveal of the present-day mystery.

But in all, Claim of Innocence is solid enough: it’s a quick, fuss-free read with surprisingly likeable characters and enough humour (at least, I’m assuming the reference to Izzy’s sleeveless lilac suit was meant to be humorous) to keep it from being too terse or dogged. I’m not sure that I’d recommend readers to leap into Izzy’s story mid-series, but mystery lovers and fans of relatively easy-going court-room dramas should enjoy this.

Your turn: what’s your favourite court-room drama series?

Rating: (good)

With thanks to Meryl L Moss Media Relations for the review copy

Purchase Claim of Innocence from Amazon | Book Depository UK | Book Depository USA | Booktopia

Other books by Laura Caldwell: