Grinder is the second novel in a planned Hamilton mob trilogy starring tough guy Wilson, who constantly finds himself caught between divided loyalties, playing all sides against each other. The book is chock full of street-smart goings-on, which are entertaining and clever in a MacGyver kind of way – which is to say only that Wilson evinces a kind of regular-guy inventiveness; Hamilton-based Knowles’s authorial voice has nothing in common with cheesy 1980s TV. An elementary school teacher by day, Knowles is equal parts Richard Stark – for his use of the hood-with-honour character – and Kent Harrington – for the extreme, detailed, and gripping descriptions of violence.
It’s unfortunate that Knowles makes a number of motif choices that become authorial tics, if not completely unintended self-parodies. The human body does not have a sufficient number of digits to count the number of times the author has his characters smile or grin to indicate a turning of the tables, and an excessive use of the word “animal” is exacerbated by an endless parade of metaphors involving beasts. It’s a short book, but this kind of stuff makes it feel longer, and not in a good way.
Still, Grinder stands as a marked improvement over Knowles’s debut, Darwin’s Nightmare, and delivers where it counts: plot. The story this time involves the disappearance of a gangster’s two loud-mouthed nephews. The proceedings threaten to be very by-the-numbers until Knowles cheats in a most satisfying manner. The book’s ending is unexpected, which is a welcome attribute. Its flaws notwithstanding, Grinder marks a decisive step forward from this developing writer.