The Inquisitor

Geiger is a detector of lying who specializes in information retrieval, a euphemism for torture, although he uses more psychological than physical coercion. He has a personal code of ethics, one tenet of which is that he will never work on a child. When an unscrupulous client brings him a 12-year-old boy, Ezra Matheson, Geiger kidnaps the boy to protect him. The chase begins. Not only must Geiger save himself and Ezra, the fates of Harry and Lily Boddicker, his business partner and his psychologically damaged sister, also rest with him. In addition, the arrival of Ezra affects Geiger’s subconscious mind where lie deeply repressed memories of his traumatic childhood.

Geiger is a frightening yet fascinating character. He has no name show more other than the one he chose for himself, no memories of his childhood or his life prior to 15 years ago, no emotions, and almost no ability to feel pain. His psychiatrist (shades of "The Sopranos") finds him “the equivalent of an intelligent stone.” He is also described as “a scarred, aching body with an unencumbered mind, a human machine without a memory card. He ran solely on instinct.” His partner realizes that Geiger has “more demons than a Hieronymus Bosch painting.”

Despite his unsavory profession – and he is a consummate professional – the reader comes to admire Geiger because gradually his nascent humanity is revealed. In some respects he is similar to the hangman in Oliver Potzsch’s novel "The Hangman’s Daughter." In how Geiger protects Ezra, he becomes almost a father figure to the pre-teen. It is also clear that he has clearly been damaged by a very traumatic upbringing, so his behaviour becomes understandable. His psychiatrist concludes, “He was a crippled man-child, his psyche the handiwork of immeasurable cruelty.” The fact that Geiger does have a moral code, especially given the circumstances, is admirable. Dalton, another expert in torture, “used a more single-minded, head-on application of brutality” and “has a reputation for getting carried away,” so he serves as a foil to Geiger.

The novel is not without its flaws. Some of the minor characters are stereotypes: an overly earnest psychiatrist, a waitress and a Vietnam veteran with hearts of gold, and a cute kid capable of stealing hearts. The plot is also rather derivative: the rough and tough guy who is capable of redemption. It has its mandatory prolonged chase scene with several narrow escapes and a predictable ending.

The writing however is of a quality not always encountered in thrillers. While walking near Central Park West, Geiger sees “joggers stretching voluptuous hamstrings at red lights as they waited to enter the park; [and] olive-skinned men trudging through the gutters, pulling their hot dog and souvlaki carts behind them like broken penitents.” There are allusions to art, literature, and classical music. Harry observes that “within every man is his own Caesar and Brutus.” Examples of synesthesia abound: “The cello painted long, aquamarine streaks that tasted sweet and cool. The violins splashed hot red lines with hints of cinnamon.”

The novel is also thought-provoking. It forces one to consider whether torture should ever be allowed (with indirect reference to Abu Ghraib), and whether there should be limits to government secrecy (with more direct reference to WikiLeaks).

This thriller is sometimes an uncomfortable read, but nonetheless worthwhile. show less

First Line: The client sat in an eight-foot-square room staring at a large one-way mirror that offered a view into flat, smooth darkness.

I can see many readers learning that this book is about a professional torturer and immediately deciding not to read The Inquisitor. They just might be making a big mistake because Geiger-- the main character in this excellent debut novel-- is one of the best characters I've come across in a long time.

Geiger is the best in the field of "information retrieval" (torture). What makes him the best is the fact that, while his competitors rely on physical pain to get the answers they're being paid to obtain, Geiger doesn't. He knows that the worst kind of pain is that of the mind. He also knows a lie the show more instant he hears it. Add to that three facts: he has a strong moral code, a past that he doesn't remember, and one rule that he will not break: he will not work with children.

When a client insists on a rush job and Geiger learns that the subject sitting in the torture chamber is a young boy, he reacts quickly. He rescues the boy, hides him from his captors, and promises to protect the boy from harm. But in order to keep his promise, Geiger and his partner, former journalist Harry Boddicker, have to find out why the client is so desperate to learn the boy's secret-- or Geiger, Harry and the boy will all face the very real possibility of death.

If you don't find the character of Geiger intriguing, you're probably not going to like this book. Fortunately I read every page of The Inquisitor and wanted more. Just enough of Geiger's childhood is revealed to help the reader understand why the character is the way he is-- and just what he might be willing to do to accomplish his goals.

Rescuing the boy is a trigger for his subconscious to begin revealing things that happened in his past, and while Geiger has all this to contend with, he's also got three killers doing everything in their power to find him, his partner, and the boy. It's all pretty serious stuff, but what takes this book above the usual thriller (besides a thinking adrenaline junkie's dream of a plot and a wonderful main character) are two of Smith's secondary characters.

Mr. Memz, Geiger's next-door neighbor, isn't your typical Vietnam vet. Memz gives us another opinion on the strange character called Geiger, and he certainly knows how to put his own stamp on the action.

In many ways, another secondary character, Harry Boddicker, is my favorite in the entire book, no matter how fascinating Geiger is. Yes, Harry has to check out Geiger's clients and keep the business running smoothly, but for most of the book's action, he's got his fragile, schizophrenic sister in tow. Harry's got to save himself, his sister, his boss, and a young boy-- and he attempts it all with class and with humor. If not for Harry's flip sense of humor in the face of disaster, The Inquisitor might have become too grim to bear.

With Harry's help, Geiger turns this book into something special; something I feel would transfer onto the big screen very well. And first-time novelist Mark Allen Smith does all this without writing a book that reads like a tarted-up screenplay. Bravo, Mr. Smith! Might we be seeing more of Geiger? show less

Geiger doesn’t remember his past but he knows what he does in the present—and he does it very well. In the business of “Information Retrieval,” he’s known as The Inquisitor. He has a talent for extracting the truth from reluctant targets. And he never fails. But Geiger has one hard and fast rule: he doesn’t do children. So when his client demands he use his skills on Ezra, an 12-year-old boy whose father has something the client wants, Geiger grabs Ezra and runs. Now Geiger is the target and, if he can’t save himself, he can’t save Ezra.

Mark Allen Smith’s debut novel, The Inquisitor, is a must-read thriller with an original plotline and an antihero who, despite dispensing torture for a living, gains the reader’s show more sympathy. Other characters demonstrate equal depth. Even the client and his team, who turn on Geiger when he snatches Ezra away, avoid becoming stereotypes under Smith’s expertise. In addition, the pacing and psychological tension are skillfully deployed to create a novel that’s both hard to put down and hard to keep reading for dread of what might be coming. The Inquisitor sets a very high bar for a first novel.

This review is of the audio version narrated by Ari Fliakos, who does an excellent reading that captures all the nuances of the characters and the unfolding drama. show less

The Inquisitor – Mark Allan Smith (ARC from publisher)

Geiger is a man who deals in a specialized commodity, truth. And as his name implies, he has the ability to determine if an individual is telling the truth. By using unorthodox methods, usually a psychological form of torture, he retrieves information for his clients.

Mark Allen Smith introduces a protagonist that is very structured, disciplined, ruthless, and not without faults. The prologue begins with a scene describing the work environment Geiger lives and operates in. At this point I was almost hesitant to continue reading as I was not looking forward to 300 more pages of the same. Thankfully I am patient, and that coupled with a strong curiosity as to how the author would show more somehow make this character human, and possibly likeable, kept me reading.

Early on we catch glimpses of fissures in the hard veneer surrounding Geiger as he relates a reoccurring dream to his psychiatrist. Could it have something to do with his past, or is it a subconscious warning stemming from his current occupation? With the dreams come migraines and as everything else in his life, Geiger has designed methods to counteract these headaches. But no matter how much structure one lives by or incorporates, you can't plan for every contingency.

Hence the almost paranoid need for rules, and a filtered referral system that clients negotiate to even set up a proposal through an ex-journalist Harry Boddicker, Geiger's front man. Rule number one is no children, and another generally accepted rule is no asaps, or rushes, on a possible target. So when Geiger accepts an asap job, which Harry highly recommends, things turn quickly when the client brings in the intended target's son instead.

Two wrongs don't make a right as Geiger discovers after kidnapping the kid from the client and subsequently trying to reunite him with his mother. In the ensuing aftermath, kidnapping, chases, narrow escapes, and finally Geiger having the tables turned on him, become an increasing harrowing and page turning adventure.

I still can't say I really liked the character of Geiger by the end of the book, he would definitely make the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, but I understood him a lot better, and could empathize with his situation and outlook.

Harry is the character whom I could relate to, and his relationship with his sister and his protective nature seemed to overshadow Geiger's, although they both looked after those not able to help themselves. The author did a great job with keeping the gray areas realistic throughout while developing strong individuals and contrasting viewpoints.

Overall, I would recommend this, but add a caveat on the methods described to the more squeamish of folks. Of course, if you're reading a thriller, one almost expects it, hence the 'thrill', and I'll be anxious to read more from Mark Allan Smith. show less

Geiger, the inquisitor, has a special gift of being able to tell when someone is being truthful or not. His area of expertise is in Information Retrieval. He has a few rules, one of which is he doesn't work with children. So, why does he break this rule?

I don't want to spoil this for anyone, so I won't go into anymore of the story. The author shows us that what we imagine could happen can be far worse than what actually will happen. The inquisitor doesn't cross certain lines. Some of Geiger's past is revealed and explains why he is good at IR. The second half of the book is a page turner. It kept me up until 230am finishing it.

In The Inquisitor, our protagonist wakes up in New York City with no knowledge of who he is or where he's been, but possesses a keen survival instinct. Managing to get work on construction sites for cash, he eventually gives himself the moniker of Geiger and earns the trust of the local mob. His friends in dark places provide him with the economic means to utilize his true talents and start up his own company in "information retrieval." An unconventional business model, sure, but a man with amnesia has got to make a living.

For the past 15 years, Geiger has become extremely skilled in his chosen profession and knows the best ways to push people to their limits through psychological rather than physical torture. Whether working for the show more government or for criminal enterprises, Geiger has only one drive: to get to the truth (there's some pretty broad symbolism in his name; like a Geiger counter detects radiation, our Geiger can detect the truth amid his victim's desperate lies). When a child is brought to him under questionable circumstances, Geiger finds a conscience and helps the boy, Ezra, escape. In doing so, the walls his mind put up to keep out the demons of his past begin to crumble, threatening not just his safety, but that of those he's vowed to protect.

I thought I would be getting a fresh take on the thriller and, while this is a serviceable entry into the genre, it tells a safe, by the numbers tale. Like most of its ilk, it's completely implausible, but it is better written than most, falling somewhere between David Morrell and Robert Ludlum. Still, it has a highly-polished movie script feel to it. (In my mind, I was already playing casting director, and that's not a particularly good sign as it usually means I'd rather be seeing the movie version--by the way, I've settled on either Jeremy Renner or Daniel Craig to play Geiger; have their people call my people and let's make this thing happen, baby). The big reveal in the end is a letdown and doesn't really seem like the type of thing that would kick up all of the fuss in the novel.

The biggest problem for me was the character of Geiger himself. Seemingly emotionless not just in the interrogation room, but in life as well, Geiger isn't the type of character one can connect or empathize with. He approaches his torture with a cold, clinical precision, but I suppose we're supposed to see the moral core hidden deep, deep down in his psyche because he tries to actively avoid physical harm. His lack of relationships and his refusal to engage with the world outside the limited one he's built for himself make him seem inhuman. There's some definite overtones of Terminator 2: Judgment Day here. Like the Arnold Schwarzenegger character, Geiger is a badass mofo who protects the young Ezra and in a hesitating, halting manner, begins to express human-like emotions. It's dude-lit in which men get to envision themselves as steely-eyed, square-jawed, testosterone-fueled protectors willing to sacrifice themselves so that others may live. Like I said, we've been here before.

The one thing that should make Geiger intriguing, his repressed past with a father whose motivations are unclear, is never as fully explored as I hoped (is he trying to protect his son from a known danger, or is he just a sadistic survivalist intent on making his boy as tough as possible?). While we do begin to get a clearer picture of what the young Geiger endured, Smith isn't putting all of his cards on the table yet as this is clearly intended to be an enduring series.

The Inquisitor is what it is and, for what it is, it's fairly well done. However, the stock characters and lack of psychological depth means I probably won't be coming back for seconds.

Cross posted at This Insignificant Cinder show less

This review is based on a pre-publication copy.

I have to wonder if the person who wrote the cover blurb for this book actually read it. To quote the blurb: "One of Geiger's rules is that he never works with children." And yet action in the book starts with Geiger, the main character, torturing a child for information. Yes, Geiger snatches the boy from the person who orders the torture, but only after the torture session has taken place. Billed as a thriller, this book seems to me to be closer to the horror genre: it contains scene after scene of torture, maiming and brutality. This seems to be the main point of the book. If the cover blurb had been more accurate, I would not have requested this book.