First published in 1996; published digitally by Open Road Media on October 30, 2012
Gray Matter was first published in 1996, and like any story more than a couple of years old that depends upon computer technology, it seems dated. More problematic is that the lackluster story is too ordinary to stand out in the field of crime fiction.
The first chapter introduces a deranged killer named Dog -- that, at least, is the name used by one of his multiple personalities -- who believes he can acquire skills by eating the brains of people who possess those skills. The next chapter introduces Penelope "PJ" Gray, a psychologist newly hired by the St. Louis Police Department to lead the Computerized Homicide Investigations Project (which, despite the name, does not investigate computerized homicides). In addition to being a psychologist, PJ designs virtual reality software. She seems to think crimes can be solved by "recreating" them (i.e., speculating about how they occurred) using computer simulations. PJ is thrust into a homicide investigation on her first day on the job, alongside a washed-up detective named Leo Schultz who hasn't had a field assignment in years. Schultz doesn't understand how "all this cartoon stuff" will help solve the crime, making Schultz smarter than PJ. The cartoon stuff doesn't actually help them solve the crime, which made me wonder why it is the primary focus of the novel.
PJ is so busy trying to solve Dog's murders by playing with cartoons on her computer that she ignores obvious clues to the killer's identity. Schultz is just as inept. When PJ isn't playing with her computer, she and Shultz are too busy yammering about their tedious, unfulfilled lives to notice that the killer is right in front of them.
PJ's skill as a computer programmer struck me as unlikely but within the realm of possibility until she boasted of giving her program an "artificial intelligence" component that allowed it to "use its imagination" by filling in unknown events at the crime scene. If she could do that, she'd be teaching at MIT, not dogging away at a low rent job with the St. Louis Police Department.
Shirley Kennett's writing style is capable; it is the content that needs work. Some of the narrative is silly, like her description of a pickup truck as "red and arrogant and threatening, like the engorged penis of a rapist." Kennett seems a bit obsessed with penises; they are frequently in the thoughts of her characters.
The mundane background of PJ's life (divorced from cheating husband, sullen son who blames her for the divorce) shapes her lumpy personality. She spends much of the novel giving herself pity parties that I had no desire to attend. There's a touch of chick lit as PJ ponders the relationship potential of every man who ventures within her radar. PJ and Schultz both have troubled relationships with their sons that add nothing of interest to the story
The relationship between PJ and Schultz is filled with friction, but it all seems forced, in part because their exchange of dialog is so often unrealistic. Much of their bickering is gratuitous, clearly intended to give PJ a chance to show that she's a strong woman in a man's world. There would be nothing wrong with using that as a hook to establish PJ's personality if it were handled in a less contrived manner. Schultz's misogynistic nature is so outsized that he isn't credible. Schultz eventually gives a little speech about how police work sometimes makes him feel like he's lost a piece of his humanity -- a speech that is completely out of character and wholly unbelievable, inserted solely to generate sympathy for a character who is otherwise a bozo.
Notwithstanding the book's many flaws, the story has its virtues. It moves quickly and the concluding scenes create a modest amount of tension. Still, the ending is predictable and the book as a whole never shines.
NOT RECOMMENDED