“The Sea Grape Tree” by Gillian Royes: Book Review

There’s nothing more satisfying than a good “whodunnit.” In my teens I devoured Agatha Christie’s entire output of detective novels, staying up late at night to see whether this mysterious young man or that sophisticated woman of the world was, indeed, the villain of the piece – or not. I usually read these books at one sitting; I just had to know the answer.

Ms. Royes’ novel is one of those “un-putdownable” mysteries – with a delicious Jamaican flavor. It is the third in a series of novels featuring a bartender with a bit of a past, Shadrack Myers – the Jamaican equivalent of Hercule Poirot. Shad is not a paragon of virtue, nor does he have the greatest intellectual qualities; but he always makes the best use of his past experiences and “street smarts,” to his own advantage and for the benefit of others. He knows how to work with people, considering himself a “problem solver” in the village of Largo Bay. He dispenses wise advice when required, with “slow and steady” one of his guiding principles. And most importantly, he is kind and trustworthy. All excellent qualities for a successful private investigator, you would agree.

Yes, Shad puts two and two together.

We first meet our hero preparing a modest welcome party for a highly anticipated visitor – a potential investor from the United States, Danny Caines. The arrival of the ebullient Danny – bursting with energy and confidence – is the catalyst for the unfolding narrative. His relationships with the inhabitants of Largo Bay propel the action. Is he trustworthy? Will he partner with Largo residents and invest in a new hotel? Can he create the prosperity Largo Bay longs for? That remains to be seen.

The setting of mystery novels is always of importance. Largo Bay is a struggling village on the coast of northeast Jamaica (the parish of Portland), where the prevailing mood is one of quiet desperation. The residents, especially the younger ones, are on the verge of either departing for greener pastures in Kingston or turning to a life of crime. The most ambitious Largoites harbor hopes of a green card or a visa of some kind. A hurricane has destroyed a small hotel built by Shad’s boss, Eric; and things rust quickly in the salty air.

We get to know small, intimate corners of the windswept village. Most importantly, there is the rundown seaside bar where Shad works. It is the only social gathering place in Largo Bay, frequented by white rum-drinking locals and red wine-drinking visitors (quite a bit of drinking goes on in the story, Red Stripe included). We become familiar with the path to the beach; the spot under the palm trees where a visiting Englishwoman sets up her easel to paint every morning; the dilapidated guesthouse run by Miss Mac, a retired teacher; the well-groomed homes of the wealthier residents on the hillside. There are crabs and turkey vultures and pelicans and tree frogs, and always the rough waves tossed on the beach. The place has its own unadorned natural beauty.

As in the best detective stories, the writer introduces us to the cast of characters, one by one. The reader must consider each one with care and figure out how they will all get on together. Many have not met each other before. None have met Danny Caines before. The bar’s owner Eric is an American resident, who is feeling his age, regretting a lost lover and anxious about the future. Shad’s wife Beth is determined, hardworking, and wears spiky hair rollers in bed that Shad must negotiate with care. The predatory Janet is a seamstress by profession, with an eye for opportunity, who makes a dramatic entrance at Danny’s welcome party in a tight white dress. The cautious and introverted English artist Sarah paints miniatures. She leaves her North London flat for an “adventure” in Jamaica at the invitation of a fellow artist.

And an adventure it turns out to be. Sarah, in particular, has to confront some dark corners of her past, harshly exposed in Jamaica’s bright sunlight.

Wryly observed details illuminate character in a charming and often amusing way. The state of Eric’s feet, for example – he often looks down at them in his most dispirited moments, contemplating his dry, cracked toes. In contrast to Eric’s habitual flip-flops, Danny wears Reebok sneakers and white socks. Miss Mac rests her capacious breasts on the kitchen table when she sits down at it. Janet wears metallic eye shadow and makes emphatic statements with large handbags. Sarah has doubts about her bright red dyed hair and realizes her best lavender outfit is too dull for Jamaica. Her skin burns steadily pinker.

The well-crafted dialogue weaves it all together, a variety of accents and speech patterns – Jamaican, American, English and in-between (Ohio-born Eric speaks “pseudo-patois”).

I should have stated at the beginning that this review continues no spoilers. That would be unforgivable. Once the characters have settled in, though, we can feel the tension begin to inch higher. Nothing works out quite as it should. The main characters steadily move out of their respective comfort zones. Amateur detective Shad changes gear, skillfully negotiating increasingly difficult and dangerous situations and putting his considerable investigative skills to work. The complex and carefully constructed “action scenes” are worthy of a superior Hollywood thriller.

Some thoughtful social commentary on contemporary Jamaica emerges at intervals. While Danny and Sarah, coming directly from the First World, struggle with perceptions of race, they are told that in Jamaica “class is more important than race.” This is clearly illustrated by doubts over Shad’s ability to partner in the hotel project, for example, and the arrogance of a local lawyer.

And what of the sea grape tree? With its sturdy, rounded leaves, veined with red, it becomes a symbol of comfort in a confusing, often frightening world – for someone, at least.

I will end on that mysterious note. I urge you to explore further!

The beauty of the sea grape tree, with its red-veined leaves, is carefully described in the novel. (Photo: Uncommon Caribbean)