By Paul Carrier
Better late than never. That bit of advice
applies to much in life, including Paul Doiron's The Poacher's Son,
which was published four years ago as the first mystery in a popular
series that now includes five novels. After I finally got around to
finding out what all the fuss was about, I had to ask myself why I
waited so long to do so.
Set in the Maine wilderness, The Poacher's Son follows a state game warden named Mike Bowditch as he tries to figure out who murdered Deputy Sheriff William Brodeur and a locally despised developer, Jonathan Shipman of Wendigo Timberlands, a Canadian company that has bought half a million acres of forestland in northern Maine.
Brodeur and Shipman were gunned down while Brodeur was trying to escort Shipman to safety following a contentious meeting of residents and camp owners angered by Wendigo's decision to nullify the leases on scores of backwoods camps. The camps themselves are individually owned, but they are located on Wendigo timberland, and Wendigo wants to free up the parcels housing the camps.
Bowditch is determined to nab the elusive killer because, for him, the stakes are high and personal. His estranged father, a heavy-drinking womanizer and poacher with "the public persona of a Tasmanian devil" is a fugitive who is suspected of being the murderer. The threatened camps include Rum Pond Sporting Camps, where Mike's dad has worked from time to time.
Aided by a retired warden and pilot who's a sharp and likable scamp, Bowditch sets out on his quest because he's convinced of his father's innocence. But his own bad judgment and shortsightedness jeopardize his career, and he finds no sympathy among colleagues in law enforcement who see him as the delusional son of a cop killer.
A Maine native, former editor in chief of Down East magazine and a Registered Maine Guide, Doiron is well-suited to tell his tale, both as a writer and as a knowledgeable outdoorsman.
Set in the Maine wilderness, The Poacher's Son follows a state game warden named Mike Bowditch as he tries to figure out who murdered Deputy Sheriff William Brodeur and a locally despised developer, Jonathan Shipman of Wendigo Timberlands, a Canadian company that has bought half a million acres of forestland in northern Maine.
Brodeur and Shipman were gunned down while Brodeur was trying to escort Shipman to safety following a contentious meeting of residents and camp owners angered by Wendigo's decision to nullify the leases on scores of backwoods camps. The camps themselves are individually owned, but they are located on Wendigo timberland, and Wendigo wants to free up the parcels housing the camps.
Bowditch is determined to nab the elusive killer because, for him, the stakes are high and personal. His estranged father, a heavy-drinking womanizer and poacher with "the public persona of a Tasmanian devil" is a fugitive who is suspected of being the murderer. The threatened camps include Rum Pond Sporting Camps, where Mike's dad has worked from time to time.
Aided by a retired warden and pilot who's a sharp and likable scamp, Bowditch sets out on his quest because he's convinced of his father's innocence. But his own bad judgment and shortsightedness jeopardize his career, and he finds no sympathy among colleagues in law enforcement who see him as the delusional son of a cop killer.
A Maine native, former editor in chief of Down East magazine and a Registered Maine Guide, Doiron is well-suited to tell his tale, both as a writer and as a knowledgeable outdoorsman.
The Poacher's Son
features absorbing descriptions of Maine's wilder reaches, and much more
as well. Doiron has created a likable protagonist in Bowditch, a
college-educated warden who must juggle a love-hate relationship with
his father and an on-again off-again romance with a girlfriend who
believes he should give up the Warden Service to become a lawyer.
Flashbacks to his childhood provide a poignant look at the family history that makes Bowditch tick, including clues as to why he has such a conflicted attitude toward his dad.
Doiron covers a lot of territory, and he does it well. As a crime novel, The Poacher's Son is a real page turner that constantly leaves the reader wondering what's in store. As a character study, it's something of a coming-of-age story because Bowditch, a 24-year-old rookie, still has some growing up to do.
The novel also opens a window on the world of the Maine Warden Service, whose officers pound a varied and often-solitary beat in the Maine woods. Bowditch's search for a wounded bear shot by a drunk is especially memorable because it underscores the risks and frequent isolation of the job.
"In Maine wardens essentially function as full-fledged police officers, enforcing all of the laws of the state wherever there isn't a road," Doiron explains on his web site. "They arrest snowmobilers for drunk driving, retrieve drowned swimmers from the bottoms of lakes, rescue Alzheimer patients lost in the woods. And these responsibilities come on top of their traditional duties of upholding the state's fish and game laws."
With its heart-pounding climax, Doiron's high-powered, Maine-based thriller is solid enough to avoid being pigeonholed as a regional novel. But passages like this one, which describes a flight over coastal Maine, will resonate strongly with Mainers: "Behind us were the indigo waters of Penobscot Bay, with its islands scattered about like puzzle pieces." I happened to be sitting on a deck overlooking Penobscot Bay when I read that sentence.
Flashbacks to his childhood provide a poignant look at the family history that makes Bowditch tick, including clues as to why he has such a conflicted attitude toward his dad.
Doiron covers a lot of territory, and he does it well. As a crime novel, The Poacher's Son is a real page turner that constantly leaves the reader wondering what's in store. As a character study, it's something of a coming-of-age story because Bowditch, a 24-year-old rookie, still has some growing up to do.
The novel also opens a window on the world of the Maine Warden Service, whose officers pound a varied and often-solitary beat in the Maine woods. Bowditch's search for a wounded bear shot by a drunk is especially memorable because it underscores the risks and frequent isolation of the job.
"In Maine wardens essentially function as full-fledged police officers, enforcing all of the laws of the state wherever there isn't a road," Doiron explains on his web site. "They arrest snowmobilers for drunk driving, retrieve drowned swimmers from the bottoms of lakes, rescue Alzheimer patients lost in the woods. And these responsibilities come on top of their traditional duties of upholding the state's fish and game laws."
With its heart-pounding climax, Doiron's high-powered, Maine-based thriller is solid enough to avoid being pigeonholed as a regional novel. But passages like this one, which describes a flight over coastal Maine, will resonate strongly with Mainers: "Behind us were the indigo waters of Penobscot Bay, with its islands scattered about like puzzle pieces." I happened to be sitting on a deck overlooking Penobscot Bay when I read that sentence.
