The first time Smith saw the Palacio, there was nothing inside but a light bulb hanging down and a VW Beetle sitting in an empty lobby. He put both building and Beetle in his new thriller, “Havana Bay” (Random House). As you stand there beside him, you think, well sure, anyone could see the possibilities here. All Smith did was find it first and then lead you right to it. That’s all he’s been doing, in his quiet but extraordinarily talented way, for two decades, in a string of bestselling thrillers that began with a bang with 1981’s “Gorky Park.” Smith is one of those writers who get such high-mindedly good reviews that you wonder if he’s any fun. Relax: he’s literate and exciting–think Joseph Conrad on amphetamines. And sending his fictional Moscow police detective, Arkady Renko, to Havana on a missing-persons case was an inspired stroke. The missing man does surface, but not before Renko stumbles across a plot that produces at least four murders and finally reaches all the way to Castro himself. But you don’t read Smith’s four Renko novels for the plots. You read to hang out with Renko, who is always droll but never cute. In one case he advises a Cuban woman not to try to cut her own throat because it so rarely works. “Interesting,” she replies. “A Cuban man would have said, ‘Oh, but it’s such a pretty throat.’ Everything with them leads to sex, even suicide. That’s why I like Russians, because with them suicide is suicide.” “Our talent,” replies Arkady.
Researching his novel, Smith visited Havana five or six times, staying several weeks on each trip. To educate himself, he walked 15 to 20 miles a day. Strolling with a guest along the Malecon, the city’s seaside promenade, Smith points out a soldier with a graceful swagger but whose boots are cracked and worn. “There is a great deal of pride here that this country was such a big player on the world stage and continues to stand up to the most powerful country in the world. That strikes a chord with almost every Cuban, no matter how they feel about communism or Castro.”
Smith never dodges the hard facts about Cuba but he is still plainly infatuated with the place. “I really enjoy other people’s stories. It doesn’t matter if they’re Americans or Russians or Cubans.” Staring across the bay at the huge statue of Christ that presides over the whole city, he smiles. “And I love Cuban explanations. See, if I were Cuban, I’d be going on for another half hour about this. You say, ‘Tell me about the statue,’ and they’ll say, ‘Well, Jesus was born… ‘.” Spoken like a true storyteller.
