José Latour’s new novel delivers everything one could ask for in a mystery: suspense, strong characters, an intriguing plot with many twists, violence that serves the story and ramps up the tension, and a setting that will warm the cockles of the coldest Canadian heart. This is the Havana of the Cubans, not the tourist strip, and our glimpse of that seldom-seen world is a treat.

Havana Best Friends possesses many characteristics of the noir genre without being overly dark or highly stylized. The genuine people of Cuba and the presence of the sun and the sea, the island atmosphere, lend light to the darker scenes. The police officers and some of the Cuban characters bear a slight resemblance to their counterparts in the Commissario Brunetti mysteries of Donna Leon. Despite their different political systems and societies, Italy and Cuba share a high level of corruption and bureaucratic bungling, and resultant cynicism and resignation.

The novel’s simple plot involves a treasure hunt. Of course, the devil is always in the details. The treasure here is $10-million worth of diamonds, buried inside the bathroom wall of a Cuban apartment. They were hidden by a man fleeing to the U.S. after Batista was overthrown, and their existence remains unknown to anyone but him until he shares his secret with his son decades later on his deathbed.

His son hires two friends, one of them a Vietnam veteran, to pose as husband and wife. Equipped with Canadian passports, the two pretend to be tourists and make the necessary connection with the present residents of the apartment, Elena Miranda and her brother Pablo, who have lived there since they were children. The treasure hunters must decide whether to confide in both, only one, or perhaps neither of the siblings to confirm if the treasure truly exists.

The betrayal, the deception, the murders, and the frantic dash to escape the police and Cuba itself that follow will keep you reading long into the night. Mystery fans looking for a respite from winter would be well advised to spend a few hours in the heat of Latour’s Havana.