Scene of the Crime: This month's mystery selections

Olen Steinhauer, an American in Hungary, is justifiably praised for his novels set in Cold War-era Eastern Europe. "The Tourist" (Minotaur,408pp.,$24.95) is contemporary but equally intelligent, evocative, and nuanced.

Milo Weaver was once a "tourist," a deep-cover CIA agent. He lost his edge after being badly wounded and now is a deskbound agency manager and family man. Then Weaver is tossed back into the game, following the capture of a professional assassin he'd spent years chasing. To confirm the captive's identity, Weaver untangles a knot involving duplicitous colleagues and atmospheric globe-hopping.

"Life Sentences" (Morrow,344pp.,$24.99), like all of Laura Lippman's novels, is heartbreakingly empathetic. A best-selling memoirist, Cassandra Fallows, returns home to Baltimore and is gripped by an old crime involving her childhood classmate Calliope Jenkins. (Pay attention to the names.)

When Callie's infant son disappeared, she spent years in prison rather than reveal his fate — and now she has disappeared as well. Now, as Cassandra searches for her, she begins questioning her own unreliable memories. For a time the elusive Callie creates a hole at the story's center, but stick with it. Lippman knows exactly what she's doing.

"Murder in the Latin Quarter" (Soho, 317 pp., $24) continues American Cara Black's robust series about Parisian private eye Aimée Leduc. (The title reflects how each of Leduc's cases take place in various parts of the city.)

In the sad days following Princess Diana's death, an enigmatic Haitian woman appears in the private eye's office, claiming to be Leduc's half-sister. The nearly relative-free detective is delighted, but the woman's sudden disappearance lures Leduc into the dangerous and terrifying world of Haiti's history and politics.

It's been nine years since we've seen Jane Whitefield, although her creator, Thomas Perry, has written much in the meantime. Whitefield is a Native American, deeply in touch with her roots, who acts as a guide — someone who helps others escape from bad situations, change identities and begin new lives.

Whitefield is an exhilarating character, her skill is nonpareil, and "Runner" (Houghton Mifflin/Harcourt, 441 pp., $26) has a characteristically hell-for-leather plot. A coldblooded crew is hunting a pregnant woman on behalf of her ex-boyfriend. When the woman reaches out to Jane, the guide tirelessly crisscrosses America to outwit her adversaries.

I'm also delighted to see, after a seven-year hiatus, New York private eyes Lydia Chin and Bill Smith, the stars of S.J. Rozan's deeply satisfying "The Shanghai Moon" (Minotaur,384pp.,$24.95).Another P.I. enlists Chin to help find a fortune in jewels, WWII-era booty last seen in China. When the other detective is murdered and their boss summarily fires Chin, Smith — long estranged from his partner — reappears on the scene.

Veteran movie producer Alex Krapp is deeply entangled in a friendship with Danny, purportedly a dying teen in Seattle. Krapp wants to make a movie based on Danny — but he's never seen the kid, only communicated by phone. Is Danny real? A scam? Or just a sick joke?

Such is the setup for "Krapp's Last Cassette" (Ballantine, 255pp., $14 paperback original) by Anne Argula (aka Seattleite Darryl Ponicsan). To verify Danny's existence, Krapp hires Pioneer Square's favorite private eye, Quinn. (That's her only name.) Quinn is cast in the classic wisecracking-gumshoe mold, but has her own distinctive and delightful voice.

Seattle writer Adam Woog's column on crime fiction appears on the second Sunday of the month in The Seattle Times.