The Last Policeman

The Last Policeman by Ben Winters

It has been a long time since a book sucked me in like this. Like since I first picked up John Grisham in

middle school and read a book in a day. I didn't quite achieve that level of gobbling, but I did devour this one in two days, no small feat with little kids running around. I'm beginning to think I'm more of a fan of mysteries than I thought.

So here's the premise: As we learn in the first few chapters of the book, an asteroid is going to hit earth in 6 months, which is pretty much guaranteed to kill at least half of humanity on the planet and leave the other half in pretty dire straits. Civilization will be gone. 

Given this future, many people are committing suicide. It's become so common that police aren't even investigating deaths that even suggest that the person took their own life. Except for one. Newly minted detective Henry Palace stumbles upon a so-called hanger in the bathroom of a Concord, NH, McDonald's one day and something about it seems off. Like it might just be a murder. It causes an itch that he just has to scratch, and so he, alone among his colleagues, sets off on the case.

All this leaves the reader wondering not just who killed the victim, Peter Zell, but whether he was a victim at all. Could it be that Palace just needs this case to keep his mind off the impending doom? Where some on planet earth have reacted to the asteroid by checking out and checking off so-called bucket lists, others have descended into drug-induced oblivious, still others by doubling down on religious faith, and more by ending it all, Henry's philosophy is to just keep on keeping on. There is no exotic vacation for him, no philosophizing on what is about to come. There is only daily routine, as he makes clear to a colleague who can't stop obsessing over the news:   

With a quick flat chop I knock over the cup of coffee on Andreas's desk, and the cold brown liquid gushes out, rushing over the pamphlet, flooding his ashtray, his paperwork and computer keyboard.

Hey," he says dumbly, pushing back from the desk, turning all the way around. "Hey."

 "You what I'm doing right now?" I say, watching the muddy liquid rush toward the edge of the table. "I'm thinking: Oh no! The coffee's going to spill onto the floor! I'm so worried! Let's keep talking about it!"

And then the coffee waterfalls over the side of the desk, splashing on Andreas's shoes and pooling on the ground beneath the desk.

"Oh, look at that," I say. "It happened anyway." (174)

And so the book becomes not just a murder-mystery, but a rumination on how to live life when we know that life is short. Sure, we don't have a sure date when it will all end, but we do know where we're all going to end up, asteroid or not. So what do we do with this time? I like Henry's outlook, but it is hard to achieve sometimes.

Winters sure knows how to write suspense. He reveals the story little by little, but he knows when and what information to withhold so it doesn't feel cliche or obnoxious. And I must say that I found all of the Concord references pretty fun. Winters goes out of his way to name-drop local landmarks -- Penuche's, The Barley House, Eagle Square, Rollins Park. Good fun. 

The book ends with five more months to go before the asteroid hits. Apparently it is part of a trilogy. I look forward to the next installment.