Patrick Radden Keefe’s ‘London Falling’ Tries To Separate Fact From Fiction

Patrick Radden Keefe is interested in blockbuster stories. He once told The New Yorker ’s Critics at Large podcast that he wasn’t a fan of “true crime.” Instead, he often writes about fraud, gangsters, scammers, and high-powered lawyers. He’s the bad boy at the legacy magazine, the Anthony Bourdain of journalism, whom he coincidentally profiled in 2017, a year before his death. In another recent interview for the magazine, Keefe discussed his interest in the moral gymnastics people do to justify their actions. His previous book of collected essays was titled Rogues. His critically acclaimed book __ about the Troubles, Say Nothing, was adapted into a daring series by Hulu. While London Falling , his newest book-length work of investigative nonfiction, has already been optioned by A24, it is somewhat of a departure for him. There are the requisite fraudsters, scammers, gangsters, and a few high-powered lawyers, but at its heart, this is the true story of one particular crime.

Keefe’s work is often described as propulsive or novelistic, carefully balancing his primary narrative with just the right amount of historical context. London Falling explores the mysterious death of Zac Brettler, a teenager who—unbeknownst to his family—was leading a double life. Brettler, an upper middle-class kid from a respectable family, had been posing as the child of a Russian oligarch and got mixed up with some very frightening people. It’s a gripping tale of crime, grief, deceit, and the glittering darkness of the River Thames. After Zac’s body is discovered face down in the mud, his mother Rachelle and father Matthew begin a desperate investigation to uncover the truth about both his death and his life. It’s a moving story about family that runs parallel to the colonial history of London. The influence of wealth slowly warps Zac’s desires as he desperately tries to climb the social ladder of London’s elite private schools and slippery club owners who flirt with Russian mobsters and financial frauds. In this illicit world, everyone’s a possible mark. Zac seems to think he could wield his street smarts and natural wit to ingratiate himself into a scene of foreign investments and backroom deals. His parents did not seem to suspect the full extent of their child’s "materialistic" yearning or his desire for the “adrenaline of the fast life.” Or, as Keefe puts it, “Zac was coming of age not just in a city that was drunk on foreign lucre but in an era of social media.” Even Keefe’s algorithm begins displaying real estate while he conducts research for the book.

“In the twentieth century, power announced itself,” Keefe wrote in Empire of Pain. But eventually a new kind of wealth preferred the model of quiet luxury. The Sacklers were careful to control how their wealth was publicized, slowly becoming embraced in London and the art world globally. The city is still open to taking cash from those who show up with it. This is how Zac seemed to infiltrate the world of Verinder Sharma and Akbar Shamji: He claimed to be the son of an untraceable Russian oligarch. Of course, in order to hide his lie, Zac had to keep changing his story, even as his two new friends started to bug him for money.