A Killer in the Family
by Amin Ahmad
Amin Ahmad thrills readers with an intoxicating blend of dark crime story and complex family drama in his tightly plotted and suspenseful novel A Killer in the Family, set in the rarefied, hidden world of the billionaire class where power dynamics, secrets, and the lure of extreme wealth create a perilous moral landscape.
The story begins in Mumbai, 2014, as Ali Azeem, an aspiring photographer, prepares to meet his potential bride, Maryam Khan, the daughter of the megarich real-estate magnate Abbas Khan. In his late 20s, Ali is an amenable but unmotivated party boy whose moderately wealthy family is, unbeknownst to him, on the verge of bankruptcy, making the arranged marriage an urgent business decision. Ali is attracted to the beautiful and demure Maryam but even more excited by her volatile elder sister, Farhan. When Farhan compliments Ali's photographs, he feels "a rush of buoyant joy: The shock of being seen, of mutual recognition--I had been craving this feeling all my adult life." At Farhan's urging, the two begin a torrid affair. None of this stops Ali from marrying Maryam; the allure of the Khans' enormous wealth and all the opportunities it will bring are as seductive as his new sister-in-law. But as soon as the newlyweds move to New York City, installed by Abbas in a sumptuous luxury apartment, Ali's dream of escape into a coddled life of private jets, servants, and exclusivity begins to sour.
Ali quickly realizes that the Khan family is teeming with rivalries, secrets, and abuses of power, and he is little more than a cog in the machinery of his father-in-law's empire: "Less than a month into our marriage, I began to feel like I was not just married to Maryam but part of a larger plan... Abbas projected an air of benevolent ownership when he spoke to me." That plan, Ali realizes, will include joining Tiger Corp, the family business, giving up his dreams of becoming a professional photographer, and immediately producing heirs. Maryam, though conciliatory, is emotionally distant and tight-lipped. Feeling homesick and dislocated, Ali reignites his affair with black sheep Farhan, and she hints that not only is Abbas responsible for horrific acts in her own childhood, he may have ties to a spate of murders more than a decade in the past. Farhan also implies that Maryam is not the good daughter she claims to be. For her part, Maryam tells Ali that Farhan is an addict and a liar. Nevertheless, the two sisters are strangely close and Ali suspects that neither is telling him the whole truth. Despite needing to protect his own secret affair and terrified that the unstable Farhan will let the cat out of the bag, Ali starts an investigation into the Khans, even while becoming more comfortable with and accustomed to his opulent lifestyle.
Ahmad is expert at creating the world of the super-rich Khans and illustrating how privilege and entitlement can warp one's sense of morality in ways both small and large. When Maryam and Ali are invited to a family lunch at Abbas's estate, a helicopter arrives to take them there. When Ali wonders what Central Park would look like from the air, Maryam tells him she could have told the pilot to "swing over." When Ali mentions that they would need to submit a flight plan, Maryam dismisses it with, "There's always wiggle room, isn't there?" With enough money, he learns, "wiggle room" can encompass anything from escaping traffic to neutralizing inconvenient truths and those who tell them. And while Ali is initially taken aback by Maryam's sense of entitlement and shocked that the South Asian servants Abbas has hired for them "followed a feudal model and seemed terrified in my presence," it doesn't take long for his adopted privilege and money to shift Ali's moral compass. He finds himself yelling at the housekeeper for failing to serve him gelato, then proclaiming that "I began to enjoy adultery," and, later, covering up much darker transgressions.
The question of compromise, of how much one is willing to give up of oneself in order to belong, whether to a family or to a new country, is at the beating heart of A Killer in the Family and is what keeps the tension high throughout the novel. For Abbas, attaining wealth and protecting his dynasty is paramount and yet, even at the pinnacle of his achievement, he still sees himself as an outsider. "You do not understand the American psyche," he tells Ali, "optimistic on the outside, but underneath, it is weak, hollow. Americans are bred to think they are special--so when adversity hits, they cannot bounce back." For Ali, who has had a much softer landing in the United States than his father-in-law, it is much easier to erase his outsider status by simply becoming a Khan, even if that means inheriting the rot underneath the American dream.
Ahmad's writing is propulsive and cinematic, expertly blending family intrigue and murder with an examination of the immigrant experience and the lives of the ultra-wealthy in a novel that is unsettling, provocative, and enthralling. --Debra Ginsberg








