A tour de force of basic and deep, sustained and sharp, morally outraged yet scrupulous reporting. Who might want to read this book? Well, journalists, would-be journalists, retired journalists, for starters, plus everyone who cares about how facts and the truth are hidden, why they are hidden, and how this endangers us all.

So, a humble tip of the hat to Kathy Corcoran. I don't know her, but over my 30 years in journalism -- local and national, newspapers and magazines, as reporter, writer, editor, and columnist -- I worked with scores of thoroughgoing professionals just like her. Some, obviously, were more talented or hardworking than others. What united them is a devotion to fairness and the free flow of information. This very much describes Corcoran: She approached this complex story with a hypothesis that she tests against hard facts, revising and revising again as those facts and countervailing facts are revealed. In other words, a principled, scientific endeavor.

It's impossible for me to vouch for all of Corcoran's reporting. What I can add is that I have spent time where this story takes place, in Veracruz, Xalapa, Mexico City. She describes details as I recall them: how waiters serve "cafe lechero" at Gran Cafe de la Parroquia in Veracruz, the puestos and parks of Xalapa, the vibe in Mexico City's Colonia Roma. The slow accretion of such details builds a formidable credibility.

It is no accident that Donald Trump and powerful people like him around the world have been busy attacking journalists one day, scientists the next. Their aim: the power to do as they please, with impunity. For this reason, I encourage people to read this book and gain a renewed respect for our scientists and journalists. Not because they are perfect, but because their basic mission is truth. ( )

Back in 1979 I studied Spanish and anthropology for a semester at the University of Veracruz in Xalapa, Mexico, a city Ulysses S. Grant once said was “decidedly the most beautiful place I ever saw in my life.” It really was a wonderful place to spend a part of my youth and I will always harbor very fond memories of it. I knew that life in Mexico was very different from what I grew up with in the States but somehow I felt that this one corner of the country managed to escape all the crime and corruption that we heard about. Much of this was naivety but I have recently come to learn exactly how much things have changed in the decades since I last visited there.

Regina Martinez is just one of more than 51 journalists that were killed in Mexico in the 30 years since they began keeping track of that grim statistic, making Mexico the most dangerous place in the world (tied with war-torn Afghanistan) to be a reporter. What makes Martinez unique is her level of renown. Her stories about political corruption were published nationally, and even internationally. Correspondents for the major national media in Mexico are rarely assassinated. They were bribed, harassed, slandered and vilified, and occasionally even threatened. But to kill a high-profile journalist would draw too much attention when attention is the last thing that they want.

Journalism, as with most career choices in Mexico, is not a high-paying profession. As a result, many are willing to accept money under the table to write a particular story. Others will charge sources for favorable stories. Some will fall prey to the cartels' offers of plata o plomo' (Choose one, silver or lead.). For the most part, though, in Corcoran's words, "The press in Mexico was considered mostly a paid voice of the government rather than an independent watchdog." If something happened to one, it would be a simple matter to suggest that their own activities had brought about their downfall. They must have fallen into malos pasos (bad ways).

Not so with Martínez. Her reputation was impeccable. She didn't write about the cartels. Her beat was government. So when her beaten body was found on the floor of her tiny bungalow, the news shocked the country and even went out on the international wires.

And yet, 10 years later, no serious suspect has been charged with her murder. Suspects were tortured and beaten until they either confessed of fingered someone else, but none of the accusations or confessions stands up to serious scrutiny.

Enter [author:Katherine Corcoran|8496480], former Associated Press bureau chief for Mexico and Central America, who spent years, at no inconsiderable peril to herself, investigating Martínez's murder. The challenges of such an undertaking are almost insurmountable, yet Corcoran still did an excellent job of compiling evidence, debunking the official version of events, learning what stories Martínez was working on prior to her death, and shining a spotlight on who stood to gain the most from her murder.

Did she tell us who committed the murder? Not in so many words, but I would have been surprised, and more than a little suspicious if she had. What she did do was was pay homage to Martínez's memory by telling her story, a story where truth has become a rare commodity and those who tell it are often considered the enemy. If this statement sounds familiar, it should.

I want to thank the author for writing this very difficult story and will close by echoing the book's closing words.

This book is my personal Valentine to two things I treasure dearly: Mexico and independent journalism.

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