The Viaduct by Grace F. Edwards

Before I began reviewing literary fiction for Library Journal my go to reads that would get my mind off my own troubles were police procedurals. I loved them! So how is it that I'd never been introduced to the Harlem thrillers of Grace F. Edwards? https://www.nytimes.com/2020/06/05/books/grace-edwards-harlem-mystery-writer-dies-at-87.html

If I hadn't been indulging my penchant for reading the obits of the many unsung women who accrued so many accomplishments without ever making the history books I'd have never discovered Ms. Edwards. But unfortunately, when I searched my library system's catalog I found only two of her many well-received novels, and those were hidden away in the so-called African American collection at one of our more remote branches. 

Long before the re-emergence of the Black Lives Matter movement and the recent awakening of white consciences to the subtleties of racism, I had a problem with categorizing books this way. It drives me crazy to think of all the people who will never read these great novels because they'll never find them while browsing the shelves. Did some cataloger somewhere think that only African American readers would enjoy a thriller set in 1970's Harlem,  written by a black woman who was a member of the famed Harlem Writer's Guild?

"The Viaduct" is a stand alone novel that exudes period detail. Harlem comes to life in Edwards' capable hands, so much so that you could use the novel as a guidebook to the streets, the juke joints and jazz bars, and the best spots for

good home cooking, much like "The Shadow of the Wind" did for Barcelona. And the authentic dialogue is to die for.

Marin Taylor, a Vietnam veteran whose PTSD is just barely kept in check by his love for his wife Margaret and the momentary birth of their first child, has just been laid off and given his severance pay. Walking home along the viaduct, consumed with how he'll break the news to Margaret, he is accosted by two low-life street criminals. In the tussle Marin is badly injured but not before he manages to push one of his attackers off the bridge to his death, an act of self-defense that sets in motion an evil revenge plot that will take both Margaret and Marin close to the breaking point. 

There are so many great secondary characters in Edwards' book, Marin's Army buddy and silent strength, postal clerk Chance, Jimmy, the bartender at the local club who hears it all and knows when to spill the beans, Benjamin, the black cop who walks a tight rope while trying to determine if his white partner is on the take, and Paulie, the barber who knows just who to call to fence some stolen jewelry. 

Complex and fast-paced, Grace Edwards writes about real people put into dire situations through no fault of their own. Black or white, it really doesn't matter, they are simply working folks who love their families, celebrate milestones, suffer losses, and chat around the dining room table. But Harlem was Edwards' home and becomes a full-fledged member of the cast in all of her novels which include a fabulous series of four mysteries featuring former police officer and social worker, Mali Anderson. 

If you were ever a fan of Ed McBain's outstanding 87th precinct books or Stuart Kaminsky's Inspector Rostnikov series then take a look at Grace Edwards. If your library doesn't carry her either you'll find Kindle editions run about $4.99. You won't be sorry.