Think of “A Better Ending” as a true crime book that becomes a memoir.
James Whitfield Thomson’s book is subtitled “A Brother’s Twenty-Year Quest to Uncover the Truth About His Sister’s Death.” It was ruled a death by suicide in 1974, a conclusion that never sat right with James and other family members. But it wasn’t until years later, when James hired a private detective, that he stumbled upon troubling details he’d never known (there was a child present at the time of Eileen’s death, evidence was mishandled or lost). They make James wonder if Eileen’s husband, Vic, had something to do with her death and if Vic’s colleagues on the police force helped cover that up.
There are aspects of James' story that could put a reader off. The lengthy timeline leads to puzzling gaps in his story, particularly pertaining to his two marriages. And, as he hires not only private detectives but several other investigators over the course of his two-decade quest, he seems to have unlimited time and resources. As he phones yet another cop he believes is not doing enough to investigate a decades-old cold case, you may find yourself wondering if that cop is so busy answering James’ calls that he’s ignoring active investigations that may be endangering the public right now.
The thing is, Thomson probably registered your objections before you did. His writing is so guileless and self-critical that “A Better Ending” feels like reading the words of someone you know, a pal who has a remarkable story that somehow has never come up in conversation. His calm, questioning prose suits the story, which is surprisingly easy to relate to, despite its shocking elements: A brother wants to know more about his loved one’s death and, 50 years on, wonders if he could have done anything to prevent it.
Those impulses feel deeply human, especially when, towards the end of the book, Thomson acknowledges that “real life is hard. The answers we seek rarely come easily, and sometimes they don’t come at all.”
In its early chapters, “A Better Ending” has the suspense and momentum of a true crime story, with Thomson behaving like any ordinary person might in an extraordinary situation. When, for instance, Thomson asks the first detective he hires if it might not be just as easy for Thomson to dig up the information the detective will accrue, the detective responds, “Sure, you could probably get a lot of it. But only a professional is going to see what’s not there — all the stuff between the lines. Like a GSR, gunshot residue test."
That’s the kind of reassurance an amateur would want. Details like those remind us “A Better Ending” represents someone who is flailing in his search for an understanding he’ll probably never find. They also keep a story that would work as the plot of a new Michael Connelly novel in a place that feels grounded and real.
Ultimately, “A Better Ending” is much more about the “brother” of the subtitle than the “sister.” It’s a story of obsession that is fueled by guilt but shifts to forgiveness when the truth of something he was told early on finally registers for Thomson: The evidence no longer exists for his former brother-in-law to be convicted of a crime, even if Vic did have something to do with Eileen’s death, which he denies.
