HOLLY by Stephen King

HOLLY

Stephen King (stephenking.com)

Hodder & Stoughton (hodder.co.uk)

£25.00

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When Bonnie Dahl disappears on an early summer evening, between work and home, leaving behind her bicycle and a short note (“I’VE HAD ENOUGH”), her mother Penny reaches out to the local private detective agency recommended by the policewoman working her daughter’s case. It is the summer of 2021 and Finders Keepers, like most of America (and the world), has been struck down by COVID: Pete Huntley has the virus, but fortunately he’s double-vaxxed; he’ll be out of action for a few days or a couple of weeks, but he’ll pull through. The same can’t be said for Holly Gibney’s mother, Trump-disciple and anti-vaxxer, who paid for her blind faith with her life. Wracked with a grief she doesn’t quite understand, Holly sees something interesting in the case and decides to take it on, despite being on her own. The fact that Bonnie left her bicycle in the middle of the street, but not her helmet or her backback, bothers her; it doesn’t make any sense. And from what she learns, Bonnie doesn’t seem to be the type to run away from home, not least because she’s twenty-four years old, living in a nice apartment, and working a job she enjoys in the local university’s library. Holly discovers other cases, similar disappearances from the same general area and following the samew general pattern, and begins to fear the worst about Bonnie. Now she’s determined to get to the bottom of things before someone else is added to the ever-growing list.

Stephen King’s latest novel takes us back to the nameless Ohio city that we first visited in Mr Mercedes, and reintroduces us to some old friends, people like Jerome and Barbara Robinson, and the titular Holly Gibney, socially awkward detective extraordinaire. In much the same way that King pushed back the timeline of Billy Summers to avoid COVID, he now pushes back the timeline of Holly to ensure it ends up smack dab in the middle of the pandemic. King has something to get off his chest, and damned if he isn’t going to use his latest novel to do so. Holly is his most political novel in some time, not so much in terms of the plot, but definitely in the message he wants to send. Pulling no punches, he takes aim at Trump, his supporters and the vociferous anti-vaccination brigade who have spent most of the past 3 years spouting lies about the pandemic and the vaccines that have saved millions – if not billions – of lives across the globe.

As someone who agrees with King, it’s an entertaining read, not least because he’s saying what most normal, rational people are thinking, but also because it’s interesting to watch how he uses his platform to speak the truth without consideration of the consequences: there are bound to be Stephen King fans out there who disagree with his stance, and who will react badly to his baldly-stated opinions. COVID may not have reached the dizzying heights King predicted with Captain Trips, but it could be the thing that will divide his fanbase down the middle. King approaches the subject as he does everything, by looking at it through the eyes of his characters. There’s no preachy exposition, but what we get instead is Holly’s unfiltered opinion on the death of her mother, and the current state of America and the wider world, which just happens to align exactly with King’s (or at least with King’s public persona).

As you might expect from a novel with Gibney at the centre, Holly is a crime story with an is-it-or-isn’t-it supernatural element. It’s not so much a whodunnit as a whydunnit, as King introduces us to the evildoers very early in the story. A pair of octagenarian university professors, Rodney and Emily Harris, have built a cage in their basement, and have worked out the perfect method for drawing in their victims and overpowering them for long enough to get them behind bars. Therein lies the possible supernatural – or perhaps extranatural is a more appropriate word – element. But maybe they’re just not as smart as they like to think, as Holly finds out late in the novel, in an encounter with Rodney, when she asks if he has been vaccinated.

‘My wife and I observe healthy protocols.’

It’s enough for Holly to keep her mask firmly in place and a healthy distance between herself and the elderly gentleman.

While the other members of Finders Keepers are present throughout – Barbara plays a key role in an interesting parallel storyline, while Jerome spends most of the novel in New York, signing a deal for the book he has written – this is a story about Holly Gibney, and she finds herself alone for much of the duration, following her hunches and what leads she can find, interviewing the possible suspects, and the possible witnesses. She has come a long way from the mousy woman we met in Mr Mercedes – a fact that she acknowledges herself – and it’s interesting to see her in her element, investigating a crime, for a full novel, rather than as a bit-part in someone else’s novel (The Outsider) or in a starring role in a much shorter piece (If It Bleeds). If nothing else, King has proven that Holly Gibney has legs to carry her through her own full-length case, and here’s one reader who wouldn’t be overly upset if this wasn’t the last we heard of her and her friends.

As always, King has his finger on the pulse of the moment, and Holly is littered with pop culture references throughout. What’s interesting about this novel is that, as well as everything else King packs between the gorgeous covers (watch out for the different-coloured endpapers in first editions), it’s a record of a time that many of us have already started to forget about (probably deliberately) – lockdowns and social distancing, masking and hand-sanitizing. The little social dance that Holly and the other characters do when they meet for the first time is pure Stephen King observation.

‘Have you been vaccinated?’
‘Um, yes. Johnson and Johnson.’
‘Good. Moderna for me. Sit, sit.’

And in the middle of it all, he manages to put the odd little Easter egg in for Constant Reader; as with previous Holly Gibney books, this is a world where Stephen King exists as an author and, much like our own, his books exist as cultural phenomena.

‘…No Miss America but she was a prom queen back in high school. And nobody dumped a bucket of blood on her, either.’

Holly is a welcome return to the world of the titular heroine, a series character so very different from the other character that consumed King for much of his career. We’ve come to know and love her little foibles and tics (“oough!”), and it’s interesting to see how she navigates the world brought low by COVID. By removing her crutches – the Robinsons, and ex-cop partner Pete Huntley – from the equation, King more or less throws her into the deep end, on her own, and watches to see if she will sink or swim. Fortunately for her – and for us! – she’s had plenty of practice since her first encounter with Bill Hodges, and she surprises us all as she navigates the investigation, and her encounter with King’s most unusual bad guys.

It’s difficult to predict where King’s interest will fall next – horror, fairy tales, crime…or something completely different? The only thing that’s certain is that King is showing no signs of slowing down, and is currently producing some of the finest fiction of his almost-50-year career. Holly is hopefully not the last we will see of the inimitable Ms Gibney and friends, but it’s an excellent showcase of a character who has spent much too long playing second fiddle. It’s an engrossing and entertaining read – we’d expect no less from Mr King! – and despite the culprit not being a secret from the reader, it’s still full of misdirection, mystery and tension, a story designed to keep readers, old and new, on their toes. It won’t be to everyone’s taste, and there may be some Constant Readers who will pack up their collection and call it a day, but for those of us of a rational mind, it’s an excellent addition to the canon, and a fine book to mark the end of fifty years in publishing (Carrie will be 50 years old in April 2024), that will appeal to fans of crime and horror alike.