Stone Maidens

“The Blackie woods, a great stomach of damp forest, had surely already digested her case, eating with it whatever evidence the killer might have left behind.”

Throughout the novel, the deep woods of Indiana pose a serious technical obstacle for Prusik’s investigation into the murders. In this passage, the forest is presented as an active presence, intentionally consuming evidence. The image implies that the forests are fed by violence, which is essential to their existence.

“What had gotten her this far was not her ability to manage a case but her aptitude for science and her combination of uncannily accurate hunches and careful deciphering of wounds. Her PhD was in physical anthropology, the evolution and science of man, with a subspeciality in the darker, dirtier deeds: murders involving aberrant mutilations of the body.”

Richards characterizes Prusik through her dedication to her job, which takes precedence over all other aspects of her life. This passage suggests that her skill at the job is a combination of instinct and training. Her specific PhD expertise in ritualistic murders eventually becomes crucial to the case.

“She cut across the road and into the fringe of forest. A branch poked through her sandal, hurting the arch of her foot. She reconsidered and crossed back to the sidewalk, content to walk along the road.”

Richards builds suspense in the early chapters of the novel by alternating scenes featuring the killer with scenes of Prusik attempting to find him. In this passage, the author adds tension by leading readers to believe victim Julie Heath is avoiding danger in the ravine, only for her to meet her killer on the road.

“A front office man, he was good with a handshake in a gathering of troopers, a real man’s man—something there was no shortage of at the bureau. She had already witnessed Howard’s natural inclination to go directly to Thorne instead of following the chain of command through her—very likely Howard was unaccustomed to reporting to a woman.”

Throughout the novel, Prusik battles the prejudice of her male colleagues at the Federal Bureau of Investigation, who resist working with and taking orders from women. This passage suggests that t this type of discrimination undermines the competence, efficiency, and unity of the department by, for example, breaking the chain of command.

“His breathing became uneven. Another vision was coming. Or was it his conscience not letting him off the hook? Increasingly, he feared he was leading a double life and that others would notice him out of sorts, put two and two together, and that would be the beginning of the end.”

Richards introduces Claremont’s visions as a red herring suggesting he is the murderer responsible for the deaths of Missy Hooper, Julie Heath, and Betsy Ryan. This passage also suggests that Claremont may not be fully aware of his actions and goes into a kind of fugue state during the murders. Ironically, the fact that Claremont and Prusik both experience panic attacks connects them and nuances the novel’s exploration of trauma-induced anxiety.

“She read and reread the savage tale of Maleek Ga-Bong Ga-Bong, each time drawn to the tantalizing conclusion […] that the Ga-Bong men suffered from an inborn predilection to murder. Were the Ga-Bong Ga-Bongs proof that psychopaths existed among primitive peoples? Or that the drive to kill was not just cultural, but hereditary.”

This passage reflects the novel’s sensationalistic and stigmatizing depiction of Indigenous tribes in Papua New Guinea. The use of the terms “inborn predilection” and “primitive peoples” suggests that there is something inherently violent about this invented tribe and that Indigenous Papua New Guineans are less evolved than their European and American counterparts—a racist and inaccurate depiction that Richards perpetuates throughout the novel.

“If she were taken off the case as lead investigator, so be it. She wasn’t a man’s man and she couldn’t play politics, but she could get to the bottom of these murders. If Howard took over her job, she would still do her best to help him bring the killer in. If he and Thorne didn’t appreciate her contributions, she would make the contributions anyway.”

Throughout the novel, the discrimination Prusik faces from her fellow FBI agents, including men like Bruce Howard, who ought to be reporting to her, underscores the text’s thematic interest in Gendered Prejudice in Law Enforcement. This passage suggests that Prusik does not prioritize her professional advancement the way the men do and would be willing to sacrifice power in order to solve the investigation.

“It raced through him. Closed his eyes for him. Every ounce of Claremont strained to hold on. A sensation of bumping heads nearly collapsed him to the floor. He fought against it with all his strength.”

This passage highlights Claremont’s sense that the killings are out of his control. The phrases “it raced through him” and “he fought against it” reinforce Claremont’s sense that he is possessed by a force that overpowers him and causes him to act against his will. The more out of control Claremont feels, the more convinced he is that he is committing the crimes he sees in his visions, strengthening Richards’s use of him as a red herring.

“Though she was standing in a dimly lit room, intense sunlight now warmed her shoulders. The sound of a hard rain now filled her ears. She couldn’t control it. Wet leaves and broken branches suddenly matted across the marble floor at her feet.”

The lasting effects of trauma on victims is an important theme throughout the novel. This passage suggests that the trauma of Prusik’s attack in Papua New Guinea remains with her years later. The discrepancy between Prusik’s surroundings and her traumatic memories underscores the intensity of her trauma.

“‘You’re assuming […] that the perp peed on the sidewalk afterward?’

‘Or lost control.’ Or lost control. She had nearly lost control only moments ago, rushing out the back door like that.”

Throughout the novel, Richards compares his protagonist to the murderer she’s chasing, positioning them as foils. In this passage, Prusik herself acknowledges that both of them are capable of losing control of themselves: she loses herself in anxiety, and he loses himself in the process of stalking and killing his victims.

“David was forgetting himself, his reason for coming—to purchase four gallons of red barn stain—as he frantically poked his head between the bays looking for her. Something about her pulled him on, almost as if he had no choice in the matter.”

Claremont increasingly loses control of his sense of self as the murder spree continues. This passage suggests that Claremont feels a powerful, instinctual pull to the victims that mirrors both Holmquist’s experiences with his female victims and the opening scene of the novel in which their father, Earl, feels drawn to a young woman in a cornfield, linking Claremont to a generational cycle of violence.

“The way she sashayed, hips moving back and forth like that, was a definite invitation. She hadn’t acknowledged him when she’d sauntered past him, or even glanced at his truck, but with a walk like that, he knew she’d seen him.”

This passage further reinforces Claremont’s sense that his perceived victims are deliberately catching his attention and seeking him out. The sexual nature of this passage involving a young teenage girl links Richards’s thematic engagement with Nature Versus Nurture and his exploration of socially entrenched misogyny and male predators.

“‘Cut the attitude,’ he said sternly. ‘Face it, Christine, you’re a day late and a dollar short. Five months without a suspect—look at it from headquarters’ perspective. You haven’t delivered the goods.’”

Richards sets up a fundamental conflict between Prusik and her colleagues at the FBI by implying that the male agents are more concerned with advancing their careers than solving cases while Prusik remains single-mindedly dedicated to finding the truth. In this passage, the description of the murder suspect as “the goods” indicates that the speaker, Managing Director Roger Thorne, is more concerned with how the case looks to his superiors than the truth of the matter.

“She’d said ‘Take your penance,’ and he’d obeyed her and opened his mouth, as he always did. As solemn as a Catholic receiving Communion, he’d received his stone, swallowing hard to get down the lumpy piece of gravel she’d collected from the back lot. There was an endless supply of the painful stones to match his endless accidents.”

This passage demonstrates the ways in which the killer progressively conflates historic religious and cultural rituals with his own personal trauma. Holmquist connects his mother’s abusive punishment—forcing him to swallow rocks—with the invented Papua New Guinean practice of placing carved stone amulets in the throats of victims, inspiring him to steal the amulets and leave them in the throats of his own murder victims.

“She unzipped the forensic pouch around her waist and removed stainless-steel calipers, thinking how Brian Eisen would compare Claremont’s uppers and lowers with the digital postmortem photographs of the teeth marks on Betsy Ryan’s shoulder, close-ups he’d enhanced using the Lucis software.”

Throughout the novel, author Richards explains forensic tools and processes in detail so that readers unfamiliar with forensic science can understand Prusik’s investigation. For example, this passage explains the purpose of dental impressions while also naming the technology necessary to complete the comparison.

“Claremont gazed blankly at the table. “Can’t say exactly where he comes from. But he’s there all right.” He swallowed hard and tapped his sternum when he did. “Right there inside.” […] “I…I can’t”—he massaged his throat— “stop him.”

Claremont’s sense of his own powerlessness to protect the victims of the murders he sees in his head or even stop the visions from happening causes him to feel an inherent complicity in his brother’s crimes. His determination to stop the murders from happening despite viewing it as an impossible task frames his eventual death as a tragedy.

“In the confines of the parked truck, he twisted both hands around the steering wheel, riding out wave after wave of desperate longing, wave after wave of an endless sorrow that took him right back to that raw boy all cold and wet in the dark of his room. Cold and wet and so terribly alone.”

In the final act of the novel, Richards reveals that Holmquist experienced severe abuse as a child that inspired his murder spree as an adult, bringing his exploration of Nature Versus Nurture in Human Development full circle. This passage suggests that the isolation of his childhood and the punishment he received after bedwetting had long-lasting traumatic effects that contributed to his murderous behavior.

“Transposition phenomenon is reportedly highest among mirror-image identical twins. There is a long-term study on identical twins that has documented this. Oddly, it seems to occur most frequently among identicals separated soon after birth. Something to do with the twinning bond that forms at a very early age, some believe in the womb itself.”

Once the link between Claremont and Holmquist is revealed, Dr. Emil Katz introduces the concept of mirror-image twins, which provides the key to the novel’s central mystery. Katz argues that because this connection is innate among mirror-image twins, Claremont is not responsible for the strength of the connection. His expert opinion validates Prusik’s intuitive theory of the crime as the plot escalates toward the final showdown between Prusik, Claremont, and Holmquist.

“You and I both know that I’m not going to be of much help to you at this point. […] If anything, they’ll misconstrue my presence, making things worse for you. And I certainly won’t be any help to my own office, the people of my county. You agree?”

Richards characterizes Sheriff Joe McFaron in contrast to Prusik’s male colleagues at the FBI. McFaron both recognizes the systemic gendered prejudice against Prusik and refuses to participate in it, allowing them to connect on both a professional and personal level. Although Prusik is hurt by McFaron’s criticism of her decision to override her supervisors, Richards indicates that his actions are motivated both by a desire to help her and his overwhelming sense of justice—a trait he shares with Prusik.

“Margaret looked almost as disturbed as Thorne. The older woman leaned forward. ‘Look, it may be none of my business, but I overheard you speaking to Special Agent Eisen. Don’t let these coots bully you, Christine. Not when you see things as clearly as you do.’”

Richards includes a moment of solidarity between Prusik and her secretary Margaret to reinforce his portrayal of the FBI as an institution that privileges male leadership and underestimates female expertise. Margaret’s affirmation of Prusik’s decision to bypass her supervisors in order to pursue her hunch about Claremont’s innocence highlights the pervasiveness of prejudice both women face in the workplace.

“He saw himself muttering up front, knowing it was this other, and yet, at the same time, from somewhere deep inside, Claremont’s very own shame was directing him to open his mouth. The driver turned, stretched over the seat. Obediently Claremont sat up. Without a word said between them, the driver fingered out of his pocket a small stone and placed it on Claremont’s obliging tongue.”

This passage highlights the strength of the emotional connection between Holmquist and Claremont, who frequently struggles to distinguish between himself and his brother. The use of the words “obedient” and “obliging” in this passage suggests that Holmquist holds power over Claremont. Claremont’s final decision to stop his brother’s violence represents an act of autonomy essential to his character arc.

“Claremont’s anguish—and it was nothing less than anguish—was excruciating to witness. What agonies of the deep and the twinning bond dredged up? What loss must Claremont be feeling as the life drained out of his mirror image?”

In the final chapters of the novel, Richards explicitly connects Prusik’s past with her present as Holmquist reveals that he’s been closely following Prusik’s career based on his belief that they share a deep respect for Papua New Guinean culture. However, in this passage, Richards refutes that claim by suggesting that Prusik actually shares an emotional connection with Claremont, Holmquist’s twin, underscoring her characterization as a defender of the vulnerable.

“Genes alone can only explain so far. Claremont’s adoptive parents prove that a good environment does make a difference. Of course, we know very little about your killer’s childhood experiences.”

Dr. Katz’s reflection that the differences between Holmquist and Claremont’s childhoods explain their different reactions to violence further reinforces the debate between nature and nurture as a central theme in the novel. Katz’s allusion to the boys’ unknown childhood experiences foreshadows Richards’s Epilogue, in which Holmquist and Claremont’s father is revealed.