97 books like The Dante Connection

Lehane, one of my favourite authors, introduces the crime writer’s device of the duo, in his first Kenzie and Gennaro novel. For me, as in my own DCI Steel novels, the duo in writing can work to inform, or mislead, the reader and, if handled well, the reader doesn’t notice, seeing the interaction between characters as normal. Clichés abound in crime fiction, especially in lead characters, but Lehane avoids this with P.I. Patrick Kenzie, and his lifelong friend, Angie Gennaro. Given the area they inhabit, with its racial and gang tensions, added to the clients they have, clichés would seem unavoidable, but—once again—the lesson here is to write multi-faceted characters, which Kenzie and Gennaro emphatically are. They are flawed, but in Lehane’s hands, triumphantly human, and very believable.

I have never been to London, but Christopher Fowler makes me want to book a plane ticket. His immense collection of mysteries (18 so far) features adorable curmudgeon Arthur Bryant and his partner, John May, an elderly Lothario. These quirky detectives are the heartbeat of the even quirkier Peculiar Crimes Unit (yes, that’s its real name). I am a big fan of teams in mystery solving—not just because they all help out solving the puzzle but because of the emotions and relationships that become entangled among team members. Fowler delivers fascinating British history, smart humor, and delightful writing. Guilty secret: I would love to reach into Arthur Bryant’s big old coat pockets; they always contain the most outlandish things (many essential to solving the crime, of course).

The effect of Scandinavian crime writing has been far-reaching and, to my mind, one aspect that has helped its growth has been the addition of psychological aspects in the characters and—in a very particular sense—the response to this from the reader. I feel I’ve learned more of this deeper level from the writings of Adler-Olsen, particularly his Department Q novels with their lead, Detective Carl Mørck (a deeply flawed man, although written without a cliché in sight). Adler-Olsen has said the reader must have the opportunity to create their own images from his not-very detailed descriptions, which he calls the “missing voice”, and his light, but masterful creation of Carl Mørck succeeds in this, making the Department Q novels a ‘must’ for any reader.

Who doesn’t love a couple who bicker one moment and save each other’s lives the next? That defines married archeologists Amelia Peabody and Radcliffe Emerson, who fight off graverobbers and murderers while excavating the great tombs of Egypt in 1917. Amelia, who tells this story with wit and panache, is my kind of gal—she fights off villains with her ever-present sturdy umbrella. Dashing Radcliffe is devoted to her and exasperated by her antics. As the series has grown, so has the family. I adore the introduction of their son, Ramses, who is as brilliant, daring, and foolhardy as his parents.  

Robert K. Wittman is the founder of the FBI Art Crime Team, and any one of his undercover adventures could be the plot for a box office thriller. Over the course of his career Wittman not only recovered hundreds of millions of dollars’ worth a stolen property, he protected priceless masterpieces from being lost forever. 

When I first began doing research for a novel about art theft, it was clear the global market for stolen masterpieces is incredibly complex, an underground network of smugglers, master forgers, and organized crime syndicates. To get my facts straight I needed a navigator, and this book immediately put me on the right track.

Wittman’s backstory and relentless drive to make art crime a priority within the FBI, as Italy has done with its Carabinieri Art Squad, is an inspiring story on its own, and many of his cases would feel right at home in… show more.

The art underworld is a place where cultured curators consort with common criminals, museum directors rub shoulders with career cops, and the long-fingered hand of organized crime lurks in the shadows.

The only way to navigate this broken landscape is by following someone who knows the terrain, so when an Oslo museum was robbed of its most priceless treasure—Edvard Munch’s Scream, they turned to Charley Hill, art detective. Hill could have walked right out of a novel, a colorful character that makes this nonfiction investigation read more like a heist novel.

This book won the prestigious Edgar Award from the Mystery Writers of America for true crime, so it was high on my list when doing research for writing an art mystery. The pacing makes it a delight to read, and the twists and turns of the investigation reveal the countless ways the art world remains ripe for exploitation and… show more.

I can't resist a good pun, so this book had me with the title. I found plenty to make me grin in the middle of the action, and I couldn't help rooting for Serena as she tried to prove herself on the job as a new FBI field agent and resist her mother's matchmaking.

I love a story where a quirky support character adds complications, and Serena's Aunt Martha is a hoot. And I like the hint of a coming romance, although I like both men in Serena's life and don't want to see either of them hurt.

No fake this time. Instead, a likely real but unknown Cézanne portrait sends Antoine Verlaque, chief magistrate of the artist’s hometown, Aix-en-Provence, to identify the sitter, authenticate the painting, and find out who killed to get hold of it.

I love how the story shifts back and forth between the present, as Verlaque and his partner track down the thief and murderer, and 1885 when Cézanne meets the woman in the portrait. Longworth beautifully evokes the town’s atmosphere—I could almost smell the delicious aroma wafting from the pastry shop that provides the vital clue.

I really like the discussion of the Metropolitan Museum’s celebrated acquisition of the ancient Greek Eurphronios Krater, which turned out to have been stolen from a tomb and had to be returned to Italy.

We read that even taking less valuable items “damages archaeological heritage, thereby compromising or weakening historical scholarship.”

I appreciate how this also applies to the unrelated minister who got into the Edward Hopper estate and who hid Hopper’s papers—5,000 documents—for 50 years, damaging their context, perhaps destroying some.

I wrote my biography and definitive catalogue of Hopper’s art without access to most of these papers. Now that I have seen most of them, I am relieved that my work retains its value. Fortunately, I found another source that provided many of Jo Hopper’s diaries.

As I finished each chapter of this book, I couldn’t wait to read the next one. Finkel’s book is a suspenseful and psychological dive into the world of a gentleman art thief.

The disappearance in this book? Billions of dollars in stolen art. The thief? Stéphane Breitwieser is a self-proclaimed art collector living in his mother's attic with his girlfriend and their treasure trove of stolen art. What compels him to steal? How does he get away with it? How does he eventually get caught? These are the questions that kept me reading!