鈥淢y name is Kinsey Millhone. I鈥檓 a private investigator, licensed by the state of California. I鈥檓 thirty-two years old, twice divorced, no kids. The day before yesterday I killed someone and the fact weighs heavily on my mind.鈥�
鈥� Sue Grafton, A Is For Alibi
Why do so many of us read detective novels, putting ourselves into the worn shoe leather of obsessive loners determined to crack a case? I think it鈥檚 because there鈥檚 something appealing about looking at life as a mystery that can be solved. In a few hundred pages, a world is taken apart and neatly put back together again; we know who鈥檚 good and who鈥檚 bad and what happened. Life is rarely like this, but it鈥檚 nice to think that, somewhere, puzzle pieces are fitting together and loose ends are being tied up.
But there鈥檚 another reason: because we fall in love with a detective. My favourite fictional gumshoe has long been Kinsey Millhone, who first sprang from the pages of Sue Grafton鈥檚 alphabet series in 1982, in A Is For Alibi. I discovered her, I think, sometime in the 1990s, maybe at G or H. Delighted with my find, I devoured the previous books and, once caught up, would eagerly await the next instalment. Kinsey 鈥� funny, sarcastic, loyal, cheap, righteous, smart and utterly endearing 鈥� became a friend.
Y Is For Yesterday came out last summer, and I had the great pleasure of interviewing Grafton over the telephone in August. Speaking in a lilting voice that instantly revealed her Kentucky roots, she was delightfully upbeat, and spoke of how Kinsey was her alter ego. (鈥淚t鈥檚 fun to get to live her life without penalty.鈥�) She planned for Z Is For Zero to be 鈥渁 book like the others 鈥� a good solid story and good detective work,鈥� and spoke happily of what she might do once the alphabet series was done.
Just before New Year鈥檚, however, came terribly sad news: Grafton, at 77, had died, of cancer diagnosed two years ago. Z was not yet written, and never will be. 鈥淎s far as we in the family are concerned,鈥� wrote Grafton鈥檚 daughter in a Facebook post, 鈥渢he alphabet now ends at Y.鈥�
I鈥檒l confess that I was looking forward to a tidy wrap-up of Kinsey鈥檚 adventures. Would she finally make peace with her family? Would she settle down with on-again, off-again beau Robert Dietz? Would her octogenarian landlord Henry, God forbid, die? But all of us who loved Kinsey 鈥� and, by extension, Grafton 鈥� are now faced with, well, real life. Projects don鈥檛 always get finished. Ends don鈥檛 always get tied up. And sometimes, we find ourselves missing people we鈥檝e never met.
Grafton鈥檚 literacy legacy is remarkable. She was 鈥� along with Sara Paretsky, Marcia Muller and others 鈥� a pioneer in creating an American genre of female-centred detective fiction in the 1980s. Her 25 Kinsey Millhone books can be read in order (a great pleasure), or as stand-alone novels; Grafton was careful, in every book, to reintroduce Kinsey to those who didn鈥檛 know her.
If you鈥檙e thinking of dipping into the series, the obvious advice is to start with A. (鈥淚 still think that鈥檚 one of the sassiest ones,鈥� Grafton told me.) But I鈥檒l confess a special fondness for I Is For Innocent (a fascinating, taut murder case), L Is For Lawless (which becomes an almost-lighthearted road trip), and S Is For Silence, in which Grafton first began playing with time-shifting and multiple narrators, to keep her series fresh.
I read Y Is For Yesterday last summer, never thinking it would be Grafton鈥檚 last. Perhaps on some level Grafton thought it might be; in the book (a good read, though not her very best), many characters from Kinsey鈥檚 past popped up, seeming for a final goodbye. I鈥檓 grateful that I had a chance to talk to her, to thank her for the many hours of pleasure her books gave me 鈥� and will give me.
In L Is For Lawless, Kinsey muses about the departure of three temporary co-conspirators. 鈥淚n some curious way, they鈥檇 become my family. I鈥檇 seen us as a unit, facing adversity together, even if it was only for a matter of days. It鈥檚 not that I thought we鈥檇 go on that way forever, but I would have liked a sense of closure 鈥� thanks, fare-thee-well, drop us a line someday.鈥�
Sometimes, you just don鈥檛 get that closure. Goodbye, Kinsey. I know we鈥檒l meet again.
