This is a crime novel with a difference. The murder victims are protected animals poached from Canada’s National Parks, and most of the investigating officers are National Park Wardens. OK, so a few murdered humans pop up too, and the national police of both Canada and USA get involved – but the main focus is on the illegal poaching of the animals for sport.
The shot animals are described in loving detail, in the prime of their lives, by people who have seen and admired them, and in particular by the wildlife photographer, Canon: “In both horizontal and vertical shots, the ridges of the ram’s horns popped in the dramatic sidelight of the morning. Each horn, a triangle-shaped combination of bone core and horn sheath that grew over the core each year, showed the transverse ridges that marked the passing of time. … The two horns curled down and backward from the top of the skull, and then upward and forward again, encircling its ears in a complete circle. It was full curl” (hence the book title). All the animals are glorious mature males and superior examples of their species, with extraordinary antlers or horns. Unfortunately, that makes them prime targets for the rich American hunter, who refuses to let laws or morality get in the way of completing his collection of stuffed animal heads. The rarer (more endangered), the better.
There are three main characters in this book: the park warden, Jenny Willson; the outfitter, Eastman, who arranges the illegal hunts; and the hunter. For each of them, the paths they take are defined by their relationships with their fathers. Jenny wants to make her dead father proud, prove that she made the right decision to become a park warden, rather than follow her uncle into a career with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police: “My uncle Roy, … tried hard to persuade me to join the force. But I really love the mountains and couldn’t risk being posted (away)… So I went to UBC and got a degree in natural resource conservation.”. For Jenny, the animals and the park are everything, and she will stop at nothing to protect them: her “mind centred on the stark image of the slaughtered elk, the coppery smell of blood splashed on snow, the lonely whisper of wind in the grasses. This was personal, very personal. … Willson promised herself to follow the case to the end, even if her bosses didn’t approve”.
Eastman’s “father had taught him to hunt and had always impressed on his son the need to act ethically. Hunting, he’d said, was a source of food for the family table, nothing more”. He “knew that his father would be angry, ashamed, disgusted at how far his son had strayed from the path he’d tried to set”. But for Eastman “it was the money that mattered. If that kept flowing, he’d ignore the rest”.
For the hunter, “not only did his father’s hunting protect the local crops from the voracious animals, but those animals then became food for the family, and often for other local families in need. … For his father, it was not about the thrill of the hunt, and it wasn’t a deep-seated spiritual appreciation for the lives of the wild animals he harvested. Instead, it was about providing for his family and about his position in the community; he was a provider, protector, predator rather than prey, a man not to be taken lightly. Since then, Castillo had always associated a successful hunt with the admiration of friends and family”. So, Castillo displays his ill-gotten trophies to work colleagues and associates, believing that his hunting prowess will gain him the approbation he feels he deserves.
The photographer, Canon, has an (unsurprisingly) different view: “how can someone be so arrogant and selfish that they feel it’s okay to shoot an animal in its prime so they can stick it on their wall? I can take pictures of the same animals over and over again, and others can enjoy the same experience. That’s the definition of a renewable resource. But killing an animal for a trophy, and the only person who enjoys it is the sad guy who lives in his parents’ basement and stares at it on the rec room wall”.
So, three main characters. All driven and obsessed by the different things they love: the national parks and their animals; money; the respect and esteem of others. All will do anything to achieve their aims, and woe betide any who stand in their way.
There is also an array of well-developed minor characters. Jenny has many friends, and law enforcement associates on both sides of the border, whom she is able to call upon for help in her mission. She is demanding of, and often terse with, her junior warden, Bill Forsyth. But their relationship is that of teacher and pupil, and both share a love for the Parks, and a desire for justice. Eastman and Castillo are bullies. They have unappreciated underlings beholden to them, but bearing them no loyalty: Charlie Clark (Eastman’s sorry hunting guide); and the anonymous ‘Sprague’ (Castillo’s building inspector). It is the turning of these ‘worms’ that eventually decide the case.
The pace is rapid throughout. Although you know the main guilty parties from the start, the full scale of their guilt is only revealed piecemeal. The suspense comes from the When, How and If they will finally be caught.
The writing is superb, with the author’s love for the beauty of the Canadian National Parks and their wildlife coming forcefully through in the descriptions of the environment and in the actions of the characters he clearly admires.
Jenny is a strong female lead. Her strength comes not from her femininity, but from her resolute belief in what is right and her love for the Parks. To my mind, this makes her a greater role model (for both males and females), than a woman who makes a big play of her gender, and her efforts to confound associated preconceptions.
I loved everything about this book, and look forward to many more Jenny Willson stories.
I received this copy from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review