Being a fan of Stansberry's "Last Days of Il Duce," I was really looking forward to his recent effort - "The Confession" -for the Hard Case series. I wasn't disappointed. Besides the title - which is a little lame, but I suppose goes with the Hard Case tenor and (great) cover art, I was treated to a very tightly written effort that will remind readers of Patricia Highsmith's Ripley, and Bloch's (Hitchcocks's) Norman Bates. Oh, Jake Danser is his own psycho killer, no copy cat he; but where the similarities lie with Highsmith, et al., are in the compelling nature of his voice, and his need to control events and people.
The reader will not like Danser - he's vain in a town (San Francisco) where vanity is King and Queen. If there's anything sympathetic about Danser, it's that most of the people he mixes with, socially and professionally, are pretty nasty and duplicative themselves. But can you trust him? Of course not. As a filter, he is totally self-serving. From a mystery point of view, there is no mystery. You know who the killer is. What is remarkable is the extent to which Danser deludes himself, and how Stansberry, through fine writing, makes this delusion almost plausible. By saying "almost" however, I'm not suggesting any weakness on Stansberry's part. This is about as tightly written a noir as you will find, but "almost," in the sense that Danser knows exactly what he's doing and been doing, for years. He's good at compartmentalization; he places disturbing things away in boxes - both psychologically and literally. But Danser himself doesn't buy all the masks he's constructed, nor the hall of mirrors he suggests is reality. As a criminal psychologist he understands them, thoroughly. (Indeed, even Danser's choice of profession is just another calculation.) But on a deeper level, not just as a defense against "outside forces," the masks are necessary, since they continue to prop up Danser's own heart of darkness. And that's the one mirror he can't bear to look into directly.