Translated by Leon Vincent. Margot Laine is an office-furnishings salesperson who calls herself an interior designer. She's recently been dumped by her husband of seven years, John, and has moved from the village where she's lived since childhood to a new apartment, helped by her brother and a couple of friends. She's put on a lot of weight over the past few years, feels stifled by her uncomprehending parents, and as the book opens is stood up by a girlfriend with whom she's arranged to go to London for a rare weekend away.
Margot decides to go anyway, and while on the plane a handsome fellow passenger opens up a conversation with her. As they disembark, he gives her his mobile phone number, encouraging her to get in touch if she's at a loose end during her weekend. After struggling to find her way to the city centre, being ripped off by the taxi driver and discovering her hotel to be little short of disgusting, she contacts the man in desperation. He turns out to be a well-known art photographer called Leon, and seems to be very keen on Margot, to her surprise (her self esteem is rock bottom).
I became absorbed in Margot's world while I read this excellent little thriller. Although I found some of her helplessness during the weekend stretching it a bit (wouldn't she at least have taken a tourist guidebook with her?), the author provides a convincing view of the world through a lonely, insecure woman's eyes. Her gradual awakening as a result of Leon's attention and interest is meticulously told. Although Leon is a rather cliched Mr Rochester type (secretive, autocratic), he seems to be not only genuinely devoted to Margot but also, by encouraging her to quit her job and providing her with contacts for her fledging designer business, seems to be helping her to be independent.
I write "seems" because of course there is a catch. Leon's previous girlfriend, who inevitably looks uncannily like Margot, committed suicide by cutting her wrists while in the bath. Leon has never recovered. We, the reader, know that the death was not suicide but murder, and we know that Margot is in the killer's sights. What follows is a kind of dance between Margot's gradual build-up of self-confidence and improvement in all aspects of her life (I particularly liked her changing relationship with her parents), and the slow development of the killer's plans to kill her. Is Leon the killer, or is it someone else? I'm not going to reveal the answer here, of course, but if you like your crime fiction suspenseful, erotically romantic, tense and pacy, this is definitely a book for you. It is confidently written, smoothly translated, with a believable, attractive protagonist.
FEVER OF THE BONE is the sixth in the author's series about DCI Carol Jordan and criminal psychologist Tony Hill, but you don't need to have read the previous novels to appreciate this one. It is written with multi award-winning Val McDermid's usual professionalism, dependability, style and apparent effortlessness. Although some parts stray into formula and are even slightly tired, the book is replete with tiny, fascinating character sketches and barbs of insightful observations of modern mores that lift it way above the average. It's a perfect holiday or weekend piece of light reading (despite the dark central theme) that leaves plenty of issues to ponder after the last page is turned.
The main plot concerns the deaths of some young teenagers in and around the fictional town of Bradfield in northern England. Carol and her team find themselves looking for a person or people who stalked the youngsters by first befriending them on a social networking website called RigMarole, then luring them into a direct meeting, and then killing them. Very few details of the abductions and deaths are provided, thankfully, but it is harrowing to read about the impact of the disappearances on the children's parents, who seem to have done all they can to protect their offspring. While paying due respect to the emotions involved, the book shies away from covering much of these aspects and focuses mainly on the investigation: how Carol's "cold case" team discover clues via old-fashioned police work as well as by following the internet trail. One part of their multi-specialist approach is missing, however. Carol's new and unsympathetic boss, James Burke, will not let her call in Tony Hill to work on profiling the criminal, ostensibly for cost reasons but Carol senses egos are involved. Instead, Burke tells Carol to make do with one of the police force's own profilers, ironically a man trained by Tony. Of course the man is useless, leaving Carol and her colleagues pretty stuck as to how to proceed when the tangible leads run out.
Tony is not sitting around moping while all this is going on. At the end of the last book, he discovered that his estranged father had died, leaving him a considerable amount of money. Tony has no wish to learn anything about the life of the man who abandoned him as a baby, but he can't avoid sorting out his father's estate, having to sell his house and narrow boat in Worcester. By coincidence, Tony is contacted by the Worcester police who are at their wits' end over the killing of a young teenager and so hire Tony to create a criminal profile for them. Curious about his father's life despite himself, Tony agrees to take on the job and travels to Worcester, in the process ending up spending the night in his father's old house and beginning to discover unexpected things about his own past. (Helped without his knowledge and against his will by Carol, who confronts Vanessa, Tony's evil mother, to try to find some answers about the past lives of father and son.)
Carol and Tony are intensely involved with each other on an astral plane but can't admit their feelings openly (a longstanding theme). The action is stalled for a while because Carol is too principled to discuss details of her cases with Tony even though they live in the same house, because Tony is not officially involved. Eventually, they put their heads together and realise that the case Tony has profiled in Worcester is likely to be an earlier crime committed by the same person who killed the two teenagers in Bradfield. Tony is allowed back on the team and by joining forces with the attractively portrayed Alvin Ambrose of the Worcester police, Carol and her colleagues begin to narrow down their list of suspects. Val McDermid is bang up to the minute (or, rather, nanosecond) with her social media and technological know-how, providing a whistle-stop tour of security breaches and data-protection issues as the hunt becomes more targeted.
The criminal is eventually tracked down by a combination of traditional police detection and some (glossed-over) online gee-whizzery, with a dash of inspiration from Carol and Tony combined. Although the resolution is a logical and rational outcome of all the earlier clues, to me it did not seem credible in psychological terms, and nor did it seem likely that the criminal would have managed to obtain the specific information needed about which children to attack, despite the book's casual assumption that there is no security or code that cannot be hacked. For me, a stronger part of the book was the story of Tony's gradual discovery of his father, which is rather moving - and, one hopes, will enable him to move on a bit in his rather static relationship with Carol.
After reading this book, I learnt that Val McDermid and her publishers have created a social networking site called RigMarole, just as described in the book. In a spirit of curiosity I joined it, and have to admit it is an eerie experience to look around it and to see (and if you wish, interact with) the characters in the novel (some of whom meet sticky ends, and some of whom are distinctly unpleasant). I found this experience more unsettling than actually reading the book. If you want to look for yourself, the URL is http://rigmarole.ning.com/.
Dead Time is the latest in Steven White’s gripping series about psychologist Alan Gregory. Although it could be read as a stand-alone, I recommend reading some of the earlier books in the series first to fully appreciate the dynamics – which are deep, detailed and divisive – between the members of Alan’s family and their friends and colleagues.
Dead Time is the best kind of thriller – on one level it is an exciting detective story about the disappearance some years previously of a young woman on a hiking trip in the Grand Canyon. What happened to her, and were any of her fellow-travellers involved? And how is Alan Gregory going to feature in this case?
On another level, the novel’s events are filtered through the analytical eyes of Alan. No interaction between characters can take place without him internalising what is “really” going on. This approach provides a fascinating glimpse of the many ways in which people’s unconscious motivations control their words and deeds, as well as slowing down the action while interestingly building up suspense.
As the novel opens, Alan and his wife Lauren are reeling from previous events – Lauren is planning a trip to Holland to see if she can track down the daughter whose existence was revealed in Dry Ice, whereas Alan himself is trying to come to terms both with these revelations and with his and Lauren’s sudden new adoptive son, Jonas, and their police detective friend Sam is suspended from duty and has apparently withdrawn from human contact.
While Lauren is in Europe, Alan and Jonas travel to New York: Jonas is staying with his extended relations while Alan has too much time on his hands to try to come to terms with Lauren’s betrayal. He’s kick-started out of his drifting state by his ex-wife Meredith, who wants Alan to find a young woman, Lisa, who is doing Meredith a very special favour but who has inexplicably vanished. The reader knows before Alan does that Lisa is one of the Grand Canyon party, as is Eric, Meredith’s fiancé and about-to-be second husband. Particularly successful is the author’s technique of alternating chapters between Alan and Meredith’s perspectives – reading about the same interactions between them from each other’s point of view.
Alan and Sam find themselves digging into the Grand Canyon mystery – Sam by a direct reworking of the investigation into the young woman’s disappearance, and Alan by meeting the witnesses involved, which means both men have to spend time in LA and the surrounding countryside and culture, not to mention temptations.
Stephen White is a master at integrating the psychological landscape with his plots. This novel is all about the relationship between parents and children – biological, adoptive, estranged, and more. At the end of the book, many threads are tied together in unpredictable, insightful and exciting ways. As usual, I shall look forward to the next in the series.
Dead Time described at author's website.
Succumbing to a bank holiday offer of Just Take My Heart, Mary Higgins Clark’s umpteenth novel, at half-price in Borders, I spent a few happy hours in what I knew in advance would be an enjoyable and absorbing read. Mary Higgins Clark is completely reliable in delivering a suspenseful story about an independent heroine, an ordinary woman who has had to overcome personal tragedy and who is confronted by evil in some shape or form – which she faces and resolves according to her own wit, integrity and doggedness. These books are about fundamentally decent people – perhaps unrealistic, but always uplifting and guaranteed to raise the spirits.
Just Take My Heart is no exception. It tells the story of Emily Wallace, whose husband was killed in the Iraq war three years before the novel opens, and who is now a prosecutor. She is given a career-making case to try – that of Gregg Aldrich, a theatrical agent accused of killing his estranged wife, a renowned actress. The case is apparently open and closed, and much of the book is a traditional courtroom drama, with each side calling witnesses as the case plays out. The stronger her case, however, the less convinced is Emily that Gregg is guilty.
Various other typical Higgins Clark themes run through the novel – Emily is being stalked by a serial killer who lives next door and who has developed an unhealthy obsession with the attractive young lawyer. Emily’s boss, Ted, may be invited to take up a senior post in the new US President’s administration, so against her will, Emily gets caught up in manipulations and office politics. And of course there are a range of minor characters involved in the wealthy East Coast social scene from New York to New Jersey and Cape Cod.
The tension builds up as the jury returns a verdict – which far from achieving resolution, seems to throw up a whole new set of problems. Eventually, Emily realises she must look into the victim’s distant past in order to find out how she was killed – at the same time, understanding how she herself needs to accept her own husband’s death in order to move on with her own life.
Mary Higgins Clark delivers to a formula, but it is always superior formula, and I enjoyed this novel, like all her previous ones, very much. (I’m not so keen on her short stories or collaborative efforts.) Even though the solution to the mystery doesn’t seem to be that important, and the 'heart' theme perfunctory, the heroine, through sheer decency and honesty, with a dash of intelligence, comes good in the end, and the reader is right behind her, every step of the way.
Weighing in at 550 pages, I was slightly daunted at the prospect of reading this book, but I need not have worried. It’s very absorbing – a slow burn of a book (published by Pan Macmillan), full of atmosphere and suspense, as well as with a well-drawn cast of characters and a satisfying plot.
The first part of the novel concerns three women who are staying in a remote cottage in a village in the north of England. Rachael, Anne and Grace are conducting an ecological review, the results of which will determine whether the area can be developed into a quarry. As the novel opens, Rachael arrives at the cottage to begin the project and discovers her friend Bella, owner of the neighbouring farmhouse, hanging from a noose, having apparently committed suicide. This being a crime novel, we know that this conclusion may not be justified, but for the first part of the novel, the author is content to let everyone believe that Bella took her own life, while we get to know the living characters and the dynamics between them. Each section of the book is told from the point of view of one of the three women researchers, having the double benefit that the characters and their concerns can come to life, and that certain events can be with justification kept from the reader.
Tensions build between the women and with the people in the nearby village who have conflicting interests in the project. Peter, the women’s employer, is a greasy-pole-climber who among other nefarious activities has plagiarised Rachael’s research and discarded her after an affair without telling her he’s begun to see another woman (whom he eventually marries). Rachael is the most successfully portrayed of the three central women, as she fights to overcome her insecurities and relationship with her confident, overwhelming mother. Anne is married to the local squire, but their relationship is semi-detached to say the least; Grace also has a local connection – she is the most mysterious of the three women and one senses she must have some connection to Bella’s death.
A crisis occurs in the shape of another death, which leads to the introduction of DI Vera Stanhope, a middle-aged, unmarried and distinctly unconventional woman who has bags of external confidence but her own share of internal insecurities relating to her own past, and in particular her father’s “secret obsession”. Vera brings a welcome dynamism to the book, both in terms of plot and her working environment with her subordinates.
The author cleverly switches between points of view; these, together with her paced revelations of past events gradually show the full extent of the network which Vera must unravel to get to the bottom of the mystery (or mysteries). I shall certainly be reading the next books in the Vera Stanhope series (though I believe that THE CROW TRAP was originally written as a standalone novel), not least because I find her an attractive and unusual character, and want to know more about her.
Since first drafting this review it has been confirmed that Vera Stanhope is to become a TV detective. I’m very much looking forward to watching her exploits, and well-deserved congratulations to Ann Cleeves for this news.
The Crow Trap reviewed at Reviewing the Evidence
Wheredunnit on Northumberland, Ann Cleeves and the Vera Stanhope books.
Brief review at Mysteries in Paradise, as part of a "female detectives" post.
Ann Cleeves guest post on "crime for all" at DJ's krimblog.
Posts about Ann Cleeves at DJ's krimblog: includes reviews of all the Vera Stanhope series.
Translator: Marlaine Delargy. THE DARKEST ROOM is a wonderful book, framed as the story of a wooden house, Eel Point, on the coast of the small island of Oland, Sweden - an island where the population is small and the old traditions continue. The house has a long, tragic history associated with the building of the two lighthouses on the nearby rocks, shipwrecks and various residents. The brief stories of these old tragedies are told in short sections interleaving the book's chapters, showing how Eel Point has become regarded today as haunted. The reader is never sure whether the ghosts are real, or to what extent the house's sad, cruel past is influencing current events.
A family moves to Eel Point, ostensibly to start a new life away from the city and the pressures of work and commuting, but as we gradually realise, there is another reason for the move. Katrine and Joakim have been married for seven years and are a typically smug, professional modern couple - good jobs, two lovely young children, well-off, and spending their spare time renovating their homes, which has enabled them to gradually move up the property ladder to the extent that they can now afford to buy the enormous yet run-down manor at Eel Point. At first it is hard to like either adult in this self-satisfied couple, but we gradually see the cracks in their personalities as, little by little, their story is revealed, and they become more sympathetic. Some of the revelations are from Katrine's estranged mother, Mirja Rambe, an artist of some renown and a determined Bohemian, for whom truth is an elastic concept. Mirja and her mother, an even more renowned artist, lived at Eel Point for a time during Mirja's childhood, and their secret history is central to the mysteries of the present.
Another plotline involves a series of robberies on the island. Three bored young men regularly get high on drugs before stealing from and vandalising holiday houses whose owners are absent in their regular jobs on the mainland. The police are completely unsuccessful in solving the case until Tilda Davidson, a new recruit arrives. Tilda is the connection between THE DARKEST ROOM and the first novel in this loose series, ECHOES FROM THE DEAD, as she is the granddaughter of old Gerlof Davidson's brother Ragnar. Tilda is both determined to make her mark as a policewoman subject to patronising sexism from her male colleagues (and smarting from an unfortunate affair), and also is interested in her own family history, of which she knows only fragments. Her grandfather Ragnar is dead, so she visits Gerlof in his old people's home to tape-record his reminiscences of his brother and their lives on the island. These sections of the book are among my favourites, both in Gerlof's reactions to the tape recording project and the way in which he infiltrates himself into Tilda's investigations. He immediately provides her with some good leads to the burglary case, as he knows old people who live near the properties concerned, people to whom a car passing down the road is a major life-event. Sure enough, Tilda and her colleagues soon begin to track down the perpetrators based on this evidence, and a case is gradually built up.
There are so many wonderful aspects to this book that it is impossible to note them all in a brief review. Above all, the author himself is a wonderful storyteller; one becomes totally immersed in his Oland world and in the lives and personalities of the superbly well-observed characters, major and minor. He is also a great plotter - the main stories as well as the minor ones weave in and out of each other: apparently small details in one story turn out to be highly relevant in another. He also has fun with the ghost-story concept, keeping the reader guessing as to whether he'll pull a supernatural solution out of the hat or whether he can possibly create a down-to-earth explanation for all the disparate events.
There is so much that could be said about this excellent novel, packed full of subtleties and stories, but my main advice is to read it and experience it for yourself. I wonder if, like me, you will be left thinking that there is more to the "solution" that the main protagonist, Joakim, realises? Does the author intend us to conclude that Joakim and Katrine have paid a price for a misdeed they themselves have done? I think so - for I believe that the couple has committed a terrible crime but are in total denial about it, and I believe that Johan Theorin wants us to see the novel as a story of acknowledgement and retribution.
A final note: I appreciated the translation by Marlaine Delargy: the collaboration between her and the author makes the book read as if it were written in the language in which I read it. THE DARKEST ROOM was a number one bestseller in Sweden and won the 2008 Glass Key award for the best Nordic crime novel of the year. If there is any justice in the world, the book will be winning many more awards now that it has been translated into English and so eligible for a greater number of them.
