As I had written in my post on Nightshade, I hoped Michael Connelly would keep writing the Stillwell stories.

It was refreshing to read about a younger version of Bosch, though one who is not quite as burdened by department politics. Stillwell also has something Bosch rarely enjoyed: an area of jurisdiction that he can largely command. He may report to the mainland, but as far as Catalina Island is concerned, he is the top man.

I was therefore very happy to see Connelly continuing the Stillwell stories. I was also curious about how he would do it.

Catalina is a small island with a small population. How many book-worthy crimes can it realistically produce?

It is not that crime fiction has never found horrific crimes in remote places. Much of Nordic crime fiction is built around sparse populations, isolated communities and serial killers striking in places that seem too quiet for such violence. I had written about Jo Nesbø’s The Snowman, which belongs to that tradition.

So, when I first heard about Ironwood, I wondered whether Stillwell might become an American Harry Hole: a detective who has chosen to remain in an isolated place and gradually becomes its protector.

Connelly, however, takes a cleverer route.

The book begins with a violent confrontation in which one deputy is killed and another is grievously injured. Stillwell was leading the team, and while the incident is investigated, he is temporarily grounded.

But on the island, Stillwell is still the king of his domain.

He continues to move around, follow leads and contribute to the investigation, even though another detective is formally in charge. What I liked was that, for once, the detective leading the case is grateful for Stillwell’s help. The upper levels of the department may still be rotten, but Connelly gives him more allies than cynics this time.

Another investigation starts with a lost bag. Stillwell’s follow up leads to potentially a serial killer. The killer, who he believes has begun taunting the police. The investigation then grows beyond Catalina. And the case eventually brings Stillwell into contact with the Open-Unsolved Unit led by Renée Ballard.

This is where I thought Connelly was particularly clever.

Instead of forcing Catalina to produce an endless supply of major crimes, he expands Stillwell’s world. The island remains his base, but it no longer has to contain the entire story. By bringing him to the mainland and placing him alongside Ballard, Connelly opens up many more possibilities for the character.

Ballard and Stillwell work well together, and by the end of the book, both seem interested in doing so again. There is also an appearance by Harry Bosch, which completes the picture and reminds us that these characters now inhabit the same larger universe.

Connelly has spent decades building that universe. Bosch, Haller, Ballard and now Stillwell occupy different corners of it, but they can move naturally into one another’s stories. It gives Ironwood the feeling of both a standalone thriller and a piece of something larger.

I had wondered whether Stillwell could sustain a series. After reading Ironwood, I am no longer worried.

It was a fun read, and I am definitely looking forward to the next Stillwell thriller. The way things are going, I would not be surprised if we see him on television in a couple of years as well.