Percentages of Guilt

 

Faulkner once wrote, “The past is never dead. It’s not even past.” Valentin Vermeulen learns the hard way how true that is. His former employer, the prosecutor’s office in Antwerp, calls him back. There are some irregularities with an old case. Once in his old home town, he finds out that he’s accused of abetting the murder of an informant back in 2002.

His interrogators slowly peel back the layers of the case and force Vermeulen to admit that he didn’t always play by the rules. He realizes quickly that he is to shoulder all of the responsibility for the death. But the authorities aren’t the only ones interested in blaming Vermeulen. The son of the informant is out for revenge and a crime boss shows a keen interest in the investigation.

Things come to a head when Vermeulen discovers a memo that implicates him in the murder of the informant. He races against time to prove that the memo was forged until he learns that the memo is the least of his worries. Something much larger is at stake and Vermeulen is pushed into a tight corner as he struggles to clear his name and save his life.

 

 

 

 

 

Percentages of Guilt was the runner up for the 2020 Spotted Owl Award.

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Praise for Percentages of Guilt

Valentin Vermeulen’s job title doesn’t thrill: he’s an investigator for the United Nations Office of Internal Oversight Services. Yet he’s the star of a fine and too-little-known detective series. Niemann’s five novels showcasing Valentin (this one follows No Right Way, 2019) deliver a dazzling mix of detection and action, plus a cast of beautifully realized characters, all put forth in gripping prose. Here Valentin is responding to a call from his old bosses: the prosecutor’s office in Antwerp. It seems that 13 years ago he may have caused the murder of a police informant. His efforts to clear himself drive the plot; in a series of beautifully worked scenes, Niemann gives new life to several familiar genre conventions: a sidewalk surveillance, a car chase, an escape from the villain’s trap, the final confrontation on a bridge, gunfire and all. It’s the writing that makes these scenes leap out. When his search for his beloved daughter leads to a drug house, an addict tells him, “You looking for her here, you ain’t loved her enough.” Valentin is a keeper; encourage crime-fiction lovers to read this one and then backtrack through the entire series. — Booklist Starred Review

Niemann’s solid fifth Valentin Vermeulen thriller (after 2019’s No Right Way) takes Vermeulen from New York City, where he works for the UN’s Office of Internal Oversight Service and is responsible for “making sure UN funds expended reach their intended recipients rather than disappearing into someone’s pocket,” to Antwerp, Belgium, where he once worked as a prosecutor. An unsympathetic magistrate informs him of a complaint accusing him of being responsible for a death. In order to clear himself of the charge that his actions led to an informant’s death, Vermeulen must revisit the old complex money laundering case. An original plotline is matched by a hero with an unusual background. Niemann knows how to keep the pages turning. — Publishers Weekly

Michael Niemann has crafted another excellent thriller in this intriguing crime mystery series, and this one may be my favorite of those I’ve had the pleasure to review. One of the things which I really admired about this work was the depth of character that we get from Valentin himself, exploring facets of his character, his style of investigation, and his attitude that surely have always intrigued readers. From the angle of the accused, we get an emotive kind of tension in every moment of the mystery and conspiracy as Valentin tries to get out of the ever-enclosing trap. This, alongside the vivid atmosphere, compelling dialogue, and well-strung plot threads, makes for some addictive reading from start to finish. Overall, I would certainly recommend Percentages of Guilt to fans of the existing series, and those readers seeking to discover a new and very talented thriller writer.—Readers’ Favorite

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Vinke was at that fuzzy middle-aged range. He could have been in his forties or his fifties. Right then, he looked like he was pushing that upper limit. A day in jail will do that for you. He had that unkempt, unwashed look and the pallor of not having seen sunlight.

“What’s he fencing?” Vermeulen said.

“Twenty stolen cars with forged titles. We’re talking top models, Beemers, Audis and Benzes. He’s getting them ready for export to Venezuela.”

“That’s not true,” Vinke said in a whiny voice. “I didn’t know these titles were forged. I bought the cars in good faith.”

“He has no receipts and won’t tell me who the sellers were,” Smits said. “That’s not public information,” Vinke said. He sat up a little straighter. “You know, like trade secrets. You can’t make me give that up. It’s my competitive advantage.”

“Where’d you learn those big words?” Smits said. “Take a correspondence course from some online college in Turkmenistan?”

“Why am I listening to this? I’ve better things to do,” Vermeulen said. This small-time crook couldn’t help him with the flow of money.

“I know a few things,” Vinke said. “About how money is moved.”

“He also threw out some big names,” Smits said. “Do Bastiaan Beukes or Jordi Vanderfeld mean anything to you?”

Vermeulen’s impatience evaporated like a drop of water on a hotplate. Beukes was said to run the largest drug syndicate and Vanderfeld was the legal brain that kept the authorities at bay.

“I thought so,” Smits said.

“Can we step outside for a moment?”

After closing the door, Vermeulen said, “How strong is the case against him?”

Smits shrugged. “We got the cars and can prove that the titles are forged.”

“But if he claims he bought them in good faith, it’s his word against the
prosecutors?”

“Pretty much. Especially if he makes up some fake sellers. The signatures
are illegible. We can confiscate the cars, but we have little on him.”

Vermeulen was quiet for a moment.

“How many priors?” he said.

“At least six or seven. Nothing violent, all property crimes. He’s the poster
child of the repeat offenders.”

Vermeulen nodded. “Let me have some time alone with him.”

Smits gave his okay.

Back in the room, the door closed again, Vermeulen fixed Vinke with a
stare.

“Tell me more about the money.”

“They have several ways to move it,” Vinke said.

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“They use couriers.”