The Pressure of Annual Releases

I have recently read three very different crime novels, which left me intrigued, delighted and frustrated (in that order). They also made me wonder if the publisher’s pressure to produce a book a year forces writers to compromise on quality at times. Because I would rather wait two-three years if it means a more thoughtful, original piece of work is produced, rather than a cut and paste job with stock situations, cardboard characters and clichés ahoy.

This refers of course to the book which disappointed me, which used all the possible tricks to turn a rather ordinary, overdone story into something suspenseful: an unnecessary dual timeline solely designed to increase suspense, but feeling unnatural and irritating; withholding of vital information to create plot twists; an utterly pointless final twist with little bearing on the story; an annoying, whining main character whose behaviour is exaggerated and lacks credibility. Yet there were certain sharp observations throughout the book which made me think the author had talent, but had hurriedly scribbled down a half-baked domestic noir story to satisfy the current appetite for that sub-genre and the publisher’s demands.

The book which intrigued me was Andrée A. Michaud’s Bondrée (Boundary, in English, translated by Donald Winkler). Michaud is Québécois and this novel is very precisely set in time and place: a summer community on the US/Canadian border of Lake Boundary during the summer of 1967. Life seems idyllic: barbecues sizzling, children playing on the beach, families relaxing at weekends, even if the men have to go back to the city to work during the week. Radios are playing ‘Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds’ and ‘A Whiter Shade of Pale’, and two teenage girls are flaunting their gorgeous tanned bodies and long curls to confuse and delight the male population of the little holiday enclave. Zaza Mulligan and Sissy Morgan are precocious and slightly too forward. In a year or two they would be destined to become bitches, so the gossip goes, but this is their summer of glory, with a third girl Frenchie Lamar trying to keep up with them, but not quite succeeding to emulate their charisma. Meanwhile, twelve-year old French speaker Andrée is entranced by these American teenagers, the sweets they share with her because they think she is cute. She tries to repeat the words they say ‘Littoldolle’ or ‘chiz’ or ‘foc’ (which her mother tries to avoid explaining to her by discussing seals – in French  ‘phoques’ – instead). She is the main narrator, but it is not really a child’s voice, but a scene remembered from the distant past. We also catch glimpses of the story from other points of view.

Then Zaza is found dead, her limbs torn apart in an old bear trap overgrown with vegetation. An unfortunate accident, so everyone thinks, and the holiday-makers band together to search for all remaining animal traps which a strange old hermit called Pierre Landry had set up around the area before he died. But when Sissy suffers a similar fate and her beautiful red hair is cut off, the community has to acknowledge the horrible truth:

A killer was on the loose in the shadow of our cottages, one who had made a zombie out of Bob, and etched into my father’s face lines that hadn’t been there before, outward signs of a kind of stupor, as if he’d received a blow from a baseball bat on the back of his head. And that’s exactly what had happened in the clearing, where a dozen men, along with him, had been blindsided by a mysterious weapon.

Stan Michaud is the American policeman who has to investigate the case, helped by Brian Larue, a bilingual single dad vacationing there, who helps with the translating. The story is very slow-moving, perhaps too much so for avid mystery fans, but it is also a subtle coming-of-age story and a description of an Anglo-French community on the cusp of modernity yet stuck in a primeval forest full of ghosts. I was fully caught up in the utterly believable atmosphere, full of nuances and poetic language. The translation did occasionally feel clunky, so I may well look out for this in French. It won the Prix des lecteurs (Readers’ Prize) at the Quais du polar in Lyon this year.

Finally, the book which delighted me is the follow-up to Susie Steiner’s debut, which I reviewed recently. In Persons Unknown, Manon is back in Cambridgeshire, together with her unconventional family: her adopted son Fly, her sister Ellie and her young nephew Solly. She is sidelined somewhat, working on cold cases, but she hopes it gives Fly the opportunity to grow up in a more peaceful environment, where he won’t be treated as a criminal simply because of his race.

But then a man is stabbed to death outside a park near the railway station and the identity of the victim makes it impossible for Manon to ignore the case. Things go from bad to worse and she has to prove that her nearest and dearest cannot possibly have anything to do with this horror. Or could they? This seamless blend of personal and professional is Steiner’s great strength, the way in which she makes us question all of our easy assumptions about family, motherhood and love. Each character seems well-rounded, with real depth, especially Manon, who feels like a frazzled yet slightly more energetic version of ourselves. The target audience for this is the reader who enjoyed the more realistic portrayal of women detectives such as Elly Griffith’s Ruth Galloway series (although I like this one more) or the feisty Sarah Lancashire character in Happy Valley.

Now you may say I am contradicting myself, since Persons Unknown has followed very swiftly on the tail of Missing, Presumed. However, it feels to me like this was a single, complex story that the author had already envisaged, and which she brought out in two installments. It all fits together very well, and there are hints that the third novel also builds on this story. For the sake of letting stories breathe and develop organically, however, I would ask publishers to ease the calendar pressure and allow authors to take as long as they need to make their novels as good as they can.

 

 

Crime Fiction in America by Writers from Abroad

Writing about crime in the US even if you do not hail from there is a popular pastime. We have all been brought up in American films and TV cop shows, and we can probably repeat the Miranda warning word for word even if we are less aware of the equivalent in our own countries.

In the past, French authors Boris Vian and Georges Simenon set some of their novels in the US. In the last couple of years I’ve reviewed Emma Flint’s Little Deaths and Steph Broadribb’s Deep Down Dead on this blog, and thought Joel Dicker’s The Truth about the Harry Quebert Affair was overrated. But just how easy is it to get the balance right between making the American landscapes come alive and cramming in too much detail?

29905588E.O. Chirovici: The Book of Mirrors

Chirovici deliberately set out to conquer the English-speaking market. After writing several novels in his native Romania (all well-received), he wrote this one in English, set the whole story in the US and found himself an agent and publisher in the UK (with a little bit of luck, which makes for an amusing story of the road to publication). The novel sparked a frenzy of publisher auctions and was sold to 30 countries before it even appeared in English, somewhat similar to Joel Dicker’s debut. With all the buzz around the publication, it’s not the author’s fault that I was expecting something along the lines of The Name of the Rose or Paul Auster’s New York Trilogy. Alas, it is neither the ‘heart in your mouth’, pulse-racing, twisty thriller you want to finish in one night, nor is it the clever, off-beat, startlingly original and thought-provoking novel that you want to examine again and again. Nevertheless, it is perfectly competent and a pleasant way to while away a few hours.

The story within a story framework and the multiple narrators with hidden interests give a touch of the literary to what is in essence a relatively straightforward story of thwarted love, jealousy, manipulation and murder. The author says he is fascinated by the unreliability of memory, how we can create false memories to support our current interpretation of facts. That is indeed an intriguing subject, but the narrators sounded a little too bland and similar. I loved the idea of an unfinished manuscript hinting at a murder: the set up is similar to The Magpie Murders by Anthony Horowitz but far less tongue-in-cheek. In fact, I think this is the downfall of this novel: it takes itself a little bit too seriously, but is not noir or menacing enough to cause a significant chill down my spine.

So what about the American setting: mostly a campus in a small university town? Although there are a lot of extraneous details in the book about the relationships between people and academic life, there are actually remarkably few eloquent details to place the story in time and place. It did not quite have that authentic zing for me: it could have been any campus in any country and reminded me of my college days in the UK and Germany. However, this is an above-average book, clearly written by an experienced author, who is to be highly commended for writing in his second (or third or fourth) language.

28933003Chris Whitaker: Tall Oaks

By contrast, I felt the small-town setting in Tall Oaks was utterly convincing. There is a bit more bluster and strong opinions going on in American rural areas than in the UK, and this comes through loud and clear in this wonderful dissection of the social scene. It is eccentric, dark and funny, a combination which is very hard to get right, but Chris Whitaker succeeds perfectly.  This is most certainly not a book which takes itself too seriously, and yet it left a more lasting impression of the loneliness of most of its main characters.

A small boy goes missing in the small town of Tall Oaks and we get to meet all of the neighbours, supposedly all eager to help, but also all having something to hide. So a strange collection of believable but also quite extreme characters parade in front of us. Jess is the grief-stricken mother, who has been abandoned by the boy’s father and now has to face life completely alone. Jim the policeman who is obsessed with the case and the mother’s despair. Big, lumbering Jerry, who works at the photo store, is considered dim-witted by most of the town, and still lives with his manipulative mother. And of course that wonderful creation, the teenager Manny, who so badly wants to become a cool gangster that he is prepared to have wounds on his forehead by wearing hats that are too tight for him. Manny’s mother and her new admirer, the car salesman Jared, much scorned by Manny and who seems to be on the run from something. Expat Roger who feels emasculated by his wealthy wife Henrietta. But just listing all these peculiar characters does not really do justice to the complex interplay between them, and how much of an insight we get into their rich inner lives with just a few strokes of the pen.

A blurb on the back of the book describes this as Fargo and indeed the book resembles the film and series with its wacky humour, as well as plot twists, rich character descriptions and witty dialogue. However, you care more deeply about Manny and his friends, about poor downtrodden Jerry and the others, than you ever do about the anti-heroes in the TV series. If Fargo is about the baseness of human nature, and how we can all go off the rails, Tall Oaks is about an innate belief in kindness and humanity. And it doesn’t come across as naive, because there is a lot of warmth, humour and compassion.

This was such a delight to read! By turns tender, laugh-out-loud funny and sad, sometimes within the space of a single chapter or paragraph. I can’t wait to see what Chris Whitaker writes next. It is bound to be entertaining and unpredictable, with just enough detail to make the background come alive.

 

 

 

Upcoming Releases from Simon and Schuster

As a reviewer for Crime Fiction Lover, I had the good fortune to be invited to Simon & Schuster’s Crime Showcase 2017 in London last Wednesday. It was an evening dedicated to their recent or forthcoming crime fiction releases and there were quite a few authors and titles to get excited about. (And no, I was neither forced nor bribed to write about the evening and do their marketing for them, but I thought there might be something of interest here for other crime fans.)

Chris Carter doesn’t require much of an introduction: he has been using his background as a criminal psychologist to delight and horrify readers in equal measure with his compulsive but disturbing novels about serial killers and psychopaths since 2009. His latest novel to feature LAPD Detectives Robert Hunter and Carlos Garcia is The Callerin which once again our present-day love of technology and social media is used to chilling effect by the murderer.

Craig Robertson is likewise a writer known well beyond the realms of his native Scotland. In his latest book in the Narey & Winter series Murderabilia, he explores the macabre practice of collecting items from crime scenes and selling them on the dark web for collectors. If this isn’t enough to put you off the internet, I don’t know what is.

Craig Robertson and Chris Carter reading each other’s books.

But it’s not all about the latest in an established series. I was rather intrigued to discover that three authors are turning their hand to a new series. Once upon a time, Luca Veste was a fellow contributor to Crime Fiction Lover, but his career as a writer has gone from success to success. His latest The Bone Keeper (out in Nov. 2017) still takes place in his native Liverpool, but it introduces new police investigator DC Louise Henderson, as well as an urban myth made flesh.

Meanwhile, Kate Rhodes (whom I tipped for great things as a ‘Woman Writer to Watch‘ in 2013) is setting her new series in the Scilly Isles and features a male investigator DI Ben Kitto, recently returned to the island from his London stomping ground. I started reading the sample pages on the train home and was utterly captivated. I can’t wait for this to come out – although I will have to be patient until January 2018.

Chris Petit wrote several thrillers in the late 1990s, but had focused more on film-making in the past few years. He is now back in writing mode, with a dark historical crime novel set in wartime Berlin. The Butchers of Berlin introduces us to August Schlegel, who normally works in financial crimes, but for some reason finds himself called out on a homicide case.

Although the emphasis is on home-grown crime, S&S has prepared some translated fiction for us too. Sandrone Dazieri is a highly successful Italian screenwriter and bestselling novelist and Kill the Father (transl. Antony Shugaar, out in hardback Feb. 2017, paperback coming out Sept. 2017) promises to be a character-driven, adrenaline rush of a novel set in Rome. There is a slice of Nordic crime as well: new (to me) Swedish author Malin Persson Giolito’s novel Quicksand has been sold to 24 countries and has won the Best Crime Novel of the Year Award in Sweden in 2016.

Luca Veste and Sandrone Dazieri, the two charming Italians.

But it’s not all about well-known authors. S&S is betting on some debut authors as well. For example, former political correspondent Sarah Vaughan has written two previous novels, but Anatomy of a Scandal (out Feb. 2018) marks her crime debut and promises to be a clear-eyed analysis of privilege, power, family and the legal system.  Andrew Taylor’s first novel A Talent for Murder is based on Agatha Christie’s real-life disappearance in 1926 and will be the first of a series featuring Agatha Christie as a sleuth. Husband-and-wife team writing as M. B. Vincent (romance writer Juliet Ashton and her composer husband Matthew) have collaborated before on musicals, but Jess Castle and the Eyeballs of Death is their first foray into crime fiction, described as Midsomer Murders meets feisty young Miss Marple in the West Country.

Amazingly, they are not the only husband-and-wife team to embark upon a new series. R J Bailey’s book Safe from Harm introduces independent, strong female Close Protection Officer (aka bodyguard) Sam Wylde in an international spy thriller – and she is very much the reason why the wife of a writer previously known for historical crime fiction became a co-author.

There are other books too, which I haven’t had a chance to explore in detail: a spy thriller by Alan Judd, a psychological thriller by Sophie McKenzie, a supernatural thriller set in rural Ireland by Mikel Santiago, a police procedural by Lisa Cutts, and a father-and-daughter-being-pursued thriller by Jordan Harper.

Do any of these tempt you or have you read other books by any of the authors mentioned above?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Old World and New: Louise Penny and Antonin Varenne

More escapist comfort reading, which took me to some very strange places indeed. Quite a contrast in style and subject matter, but both proved to be excellent distractions and got me back into the reading groove again.

Louise Penny: The Beautiful Mystery

I am an unabashed Penny fan, cannot get enough of her delightful, gentlemanly, wise and slightly melancholy Armand Gamache. While I quite enjoy closed room mysteries, I couldn’t help but be sceptical of the audacity of setting this book in a secluded monastery, locked away from the outside world, and with no mention at all of our beloved Three Pines, the idyllic Quebecois village that we all want to live in. But I should trust the author: I have followed her before, moving away from the realm of crime fiction in The Long Way Home, and I have continued to enjoy everything she brings to the table.

As always with the Gamache novels, there is a murder to be solved, as well as a personal vendetta and conspiracy within the Sûreté du Québec. I’ve not read the books in order, so I already knew how things had worked out between Gamache and his faithful sidekick Beauvoir once their corrupt and evil boss Francoeur waggled his serpent’s tongue. That took some of the suspense out of the book, but there is still the mystery of who killed the choir director in the tranquil and long-forgotten community of monks, who have recently become famous because of their amazing recording of Gregorian chants. Comparisons to The Name of the Rose are inevitable, given the setting, but Louise Penny makes this her own, with beautifully rounded characters and sensuous details (those chocolate-covered blueberries!). She turns this very much into a meditation on good and evil, the search for the divine vs. seeking fame, the virtues of silence vs. communicating via words.

As for the reason why I find her books so comforting, the author herself describes it best:

My books are about terror. That brooding terror curled deep down inside us. But more than that, more than murder, more than all the rancid emotions and actions, my books are about goodness. And kindness. About choices. About friendship and belonging. And love. Enduring love.  If you take only one thing away from any of my books I’d like it to be this: Goodness exists.

 

Antonin Varenne: Retribution Road (transl. Sam Taylor)

You will love this book if, like me, you were excited by the premise of the recent BBC TV series Taboo, starring Tom Hardy, but somewhat disappointed by its execution (great build-up, but didn’t go very far and let down by its ending, as is so often the case with a story told over several episodes). A damaged but principled individual returning from a traumatic experience abroad, the East India Company as an out-and-out villain, the dirt and miasma of London and its poorest people, the lure of the New World across the Atlantic – both stories have these elements in common. The book is a chunky 500+ pages, but it’s one of those rollicking adventures of the Alexandre Dumas/ Robert Louis Stevenson type, so it didn’t take long to read.

It’s panoramic, epic and historical crime fiction, three epithets which usually put me off a book, but it really works in this case. A further no-no in my book: it’s about a serial killer, and it spreads over three continents and 11 years. It starts in 1852, with an ill-fated mission in Burma organised by the East India Company. The men are captured and tortured; there are only ten survivors, and they come back more like zombies or ghosts rather than men.

Six years later, one of the survivors, former sergeant Arthur Bowman, works as a policeman in a pestilent, drought-ridden London, and continues to battle his demons in a haze of opium and alcohol. Then he discovers a corpse in a sewer, bearing the same mutilations as they experienced in the jungle, and he becomes convinced the killer is one of the ten men. His mission to discover the killer – who does not stop at one victim, of course – takes him to the New World and ultimately to the Wild West, but above all it’s a journey to find himself.

It takes great courage to combine all these different genres together: adventure story, serial killer thriller, Western and character study, so bravo, Monsieur Varenne for this ambitious tour de force! It has all the breadth and variety of RL Stevenson, the darkness of Joseph Conrad and none of the ‘going off on a tangent’ of Moby Dick.

The book was published on 9th March by MacLehose Press.

Book Launch for #DeepDownDead

I started my Christmas reading with Steph Broadribb’s  Deep Down Dead and it gave me a feisty attitude to see me through the tricky holiday period. So I was delighted to attend the official launch for the book at Waterstone’s Piccadilly last night.

I want someone to look at me the way Steph looks at Karen in this picture...
I want someone to look at me the way Steph looks at Karen in this picture…

Karen Sullivan from Orenda Books never does things by half: this was an Americana-themed night, with Bourbon, Hershey’s candy and corn-bread on offer. And, of course, the by now traditional cake (which is not just a pretty icing, immaculately put together, but also delicious).

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Steph herself was in great form, and Martyn Waites got her to share stories of bounty-hunting training in California, exploring theme parks in Florida and how she acquired her shooting skills but needs to update her tasering skills. She also told us about her love of country music and cowboy boots.

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There was such a good turn-out of writers, bloggers, publishers and readers at the event – a testimony to the love and esteem that Steph has built up via her blog at Crime Thriller Girl. Asked whether her reviewing has changed now that she is a published writer herself, Steph said she hoped she hasn’t become either harsher or more lenient, but admitted that she just has far less time to read and review. However, she said book blogging is a wonderful way to get to know people and to push yourself to read more broadly.

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I finally had the chance to catch up with authors such as Quentin Bates, Rod Reynolds, Fiona Cummins, Lisa Hall, Louise Beech, Jane Isaac, Susi Holliday and A.K. Benedict, as well as stalwart bloggers and reviewers such as Barry Forshaw, SonyaLiz Barnsley, Vicky Goldman, Joy Kluver. Plus so many more that I didn’t get a chance to bump into. Ah, well perhaps at a crime festival soon… However, I can foresee it will be harder and harder to keep up with all the releases once I get to know more and more authors, as I feel obliged to read their work so I can make intelligent conversation.

How many writers can you spot in one picture: Quentin Bates, Barry Forshaw, Daniel Pembrey...
How many writers can you spot in one picture: Quentin Bates, Barry Forshaw, Daniel Pembrey…

I tried to dress up for the occasion, but by the end of the evening, hobbling back on the Tube and train, I was somewhat regretting the high-heeled cowboy boots (well, more Spaghetti Western boots).

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Thank you all for a lovely evening, especially Orenda Books for the invitation and Steph for giving us something to celebrate: the book itself!

#TranslationThurs: Holiday Reading – Nordic Climates

Winter holidays are perfect for catching up with the frozen Northern climes and cold cases, and I had great fun with the following two. OK, maybe ‘fun’ is not the operative world, as they were both quite melancholy and thought-provoking, and both left open questions about justice and redemption.

dyingdetectiveLeif GW Persson: The Dying Detective (transl. Neil Smith)

The equivalent of Josephine Tey’s Daughter of Time, featuring Lars Johansson, a retired detective recovering from a serious illness in hospital, bored, and setting out to investigate a cold case with only his research and his brains at his disposal. Of course, unlike the Princes in the Tower, the Swedish author’s case is much more recent, although it is past the statute of limitations date, so the perpetrator will not be punished in a conventional way.

Lars is also much more seriously ill, so it is a battle against death in more ways than one. He fears that his famous ability to ‘see around corners’ is now muddled and compromised.  Utterly compelling and heartrending, the book is not a fast-paced action thriller, but full of good investigative detail so we can follow the logical links. A delight for fans of puzzles and of well-written psychological fiction as well. The only quibble might be the sudden shifts in POV within the same scene – which feel more like a film script than a novel. There are a few references here to Swiss writer Dürrenmatt and his moral dilemma in The Judge and His Hangman : the similarities are plain to see and deftly (humorously) handled.

ruptureRagnar Jonasson: Rupture (transl. Quentin Bates)

Iceland’s modern answer to Agatha Christie continues his triumphant wooing of the British reading public with the latest instalment in the Ari Thor series. (They have been translated somewhat out of order, but this has not impeded my enjoyment of the series.)

This novel has two mysteries at its core and brings together once more the combined investigative powers of policeman Ari Thor and journalist Isrun, or Thoughtful and Feisty, as they might also be called if they were Snow White’s dwarves. The first case is almost ancient history: an ill-fated attempt in the 1950s to create a new settlement in an isolated fjord near Siglufjordur, which ended with a mysterious death. Stuck in a quarantined town because of a suspected outbreak of haemorrhagic fever, Ari Thor might as well reopen the case when new photographic evidence emerges, although he isn’t too hopeful that anyone will have anything to contribute after so many decades.

Meanwhile, in Reykjavik, Isrun is still trying to progress her career with news scoops and the case of an abducted child and a hit-and-run accident seem to be her ticket to fame. She gets more than she bargained for, however, when it becomes obvious that there might be some political implications to her stories.

The author plays scrupulously fair with the readers, allowing us to puzzle things out for ourselves, giving us plenty of clues, revealing all the legwork, yet still keeping it entertaining. There are some moments of almost unbearable tension(fear of an intruder outside your home, for instance), but, on the whole, the charm of the story resides in the deduction rather than in action scenes. For my full review, see Crime Fiction Lover.

Return to Favourite Authors: Simenon and Rankin

Christmas is also about the comfort of favourite authors, who are not going to let you down, no matter what. I turned to two ‘reliables’, each of whom I discovered at a different stage in my life: Simenon in secondary school, Ian Rankin when I first moved to the UK.

maigretdeadmanGeorges Simenon: Maigret’s Dead Man (transl. David Coward)

Maigret is humouring a paranoid matriarch in his office, when a man calls his direct line, in great fear for his life. Not entirely convinced by the man’s confusing story, the good inspector does send one of his men over to the bar where the man claims to be calling from. Alas, too late, the bird has flown. He calls again from somewhere else, and as Maigret and the reader follow the man from bar to café to bar, we start to wonder just what kind of a set-up this is. Then the man is found dead. Who was he and what was he afraid of?

Maigret sets the investigation in motion from his sick-bed initially, so we get to see more of his fellow officers, the prosecuting judge and the other police force that is so typical of the intricate French system. We also get to see a lot more of the patient, protective and discreet Madame Maigret. Above all, however, we are privy to the musings and gut instinct of Maigret himself, although the author does not always play fair. He withholds vital pieces of information and springs them upon us during the interrogation of suspects. It’s more complex and longer than the usual Maigret novels (which are usually of novella size) and there are hints of Simenon’s darker non-Maigret novels in the atmosphere.

The recent TV adaptation makes the links between the Picardie farm murders and the hunted person much clearer from the start, but loses a little in the psychological depth of the Slovakian criminal gang and Maigret’s handling of them.

This is a new translation of the novel, in the highly covetable remastered Penguin Classics edition. It sounds quite modern, without being jarring, and is perhaps slightly less word-for-word faithful than the 1950s translation by Jean Stewart.

ratherbedevilIan Rankin: Rather Be the Devil

Rebus is getting restless in his retirement: merely walking the dog and worrying about his health, even being in a relationship with forensic scientist Deborah Quant, is not quite enough to occupy his time. He reopens a cold case and talks about it to a former police officer who had been investigating it a few years back. When that man is found dead, Rebus becomes convinced that the case is somehow linked to the very current criminal gang turf wars and money-laundering cases that Siobhan Clarke and Malcolm Fox are investigating.

This is an entertaining read, with the usual tussles between Siobhan and her former boss, plenty of laconic humour, and an uneasy sort of truce with Ger Cafferty, Rebus’s former nemesis.  Fox also emerges as a more complete and haunted character than I had previously given him credit for. The case is reasonably tangled and then untangled. However, there is one major reservation I have. If you can ignore the way in which Rebus (and his colleagues too) seem to ignore proper procedure and commit all sorts of illegalities (such as impersonating a police officer, walking off with case files and photocopying them etc. – all the unlikely scenarios which annoyed me about TV series such as ‘Marcella’, for instance), you will enjoy it. It is a suspension of disbelief too far for me: fun enough for a one-off, but I don’t think it will be plausible to see Rebus in a next outing.

However, the writing is as sharp and economical as usual. It’s just enough amount of detail to really convey the landscape, society and characters populating Edinburgh and Glasgow. A master class in crime writing, just like Simenon.