The second novel in the Bill Hodges thriller trilogy is a side quest rather than a true sequel to Mr Mercedes, but it makes for an entertaining return to some of King’s perennial topics: the power of literature to shape a life, and a fan with a dangerous obsession.
I have a few reservations about this book, but not with its instantly gripping opening chapter, set in 1978. Three masked men break into the home of John Rothstein, a reclusive writer and creator of an era-defining trilogy featuring the iconic character Jimmy Gold. Two of the robbers are primarily interested in cash; Morris Bellamy, their leader, has something else on his mind. Morris grew up idolising Jimmy, and he believes that Rothstein destroyed his creation by having him sell out and settle for a life of mediocrity in the final book. But then he hears a rumour of the dozens of notebooks filled with Rothstein’s writing since his retirement from public life, and he’s desperate to find an ending that redeems Jimmy.
It all ends with Morris shooting Rothstein in the head. He flees the scene with notebooks and twenty thousand dollars in hand, and buries his treasure in an old trunk, intending to retrieve it once the hunt for the murderer dies down. But before he can devour the further adventures of Jimmy Gold, Morris is arrested and sentenced to life in prison for another crime.
More than thirty years later, the buried trunk is discovered by a boy named Pete Saubers, whose father fell victim to the Mercedes Killer and suffered serious injuries. Pete’s family is struggling financially and his parents’ marriage is at a breaking point, so nobody is in a mood to ask questions when anonymous installments of cash start arriving by mail. Pete also falls in love with Rothstein’s notebooks, which turn out to contain not one but two more Jimmy Gold novels.
The narration switches between different time periods and Pete and Morris’ perspectives as it builds towards the inevitable. Eventually, Morris is released on parole, and his obsession with Jimmy Gold hasn’t dimmed a bit. He wants his notebooks, and he’ll stop at nothing to get them back. Can Bill Hodges, the retired detective, help and protect Pete from a madman?
I’m fairly certain that Finders Keepers started out as a standalone novel, completely unrelated to Hodges and his oddball team of fellow investigators, Jerome and Holly. It reminded me of some Agatha Christie novels where Miss Marple of Poirot would make what is essentially a cameo appearance and feel oddly grafted onto the story. The book does touch on the trilogy’s overarching plot involving Brady Hartsfield, the Mercedes Killer, now awakened from his coma but still apparently in a catatonic state, however it’s definitely put on hold here. While I can’t say that it ruined the book, this melding doesn’t feel entirely organic.
Another flaw of the book is the structure. The story here is divided between the characters who each possess a piece of a puzzle, and you have to wait for them to catch up with the facts that you as a reader already know, and to become aware of each other’s existence. Hodges and the gang get involved with Pete’s story halfway through the book, and for the longest time they have no idea what trouble Pete is actually in. When Morris in the present time finally decides to dig up his old trunk, you already know that Pete had moved the notebooks. I was never bored and the novel does have a good sense of momentum, but it also feels like a very long build-up to the main story that basically happens in the last quarter or so, when everyone is finally on the same page.
The climax however was worth the wait, with one particular horrific image that’s as nightmarish and powerful as anything else King has written, a fitting end to a story of deranged obsession that will stay in my head for a very long time. Happily, I can’t relate to Morris’ level of batshit crazy, but as a lover of books the conclusion did have some emotional resonance for me.
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