Book Reviews

Anthology #36

Every Dead Thing, by John Connolly

As good as this thriller is, and it undoubtedly is, I needed a palate-cleanser after reading it, because it contains, right from the beginning with police reports about the death of Susan and Jennifer Parker, several graphic descriptions of bodily mutilations by a serial killer, who is later referred to as the Travelling Man [note British spelling: something which indicates that this is not an American writer, even though the characters are American]. In its review, I referred to the later book, The Dirty South, by this author as a prequel, which might not be strictly correct, because of events in this earlier story, which I can’t reveal, but Charlie Parker is here also, as in the previously reviewed book, predominantly in the USA’s southern states. He is searching for the killer of his wife & young daughter, which happened painfully recently, and the Travelling Man is a very likely contender, given the methods he, presumably, uses to despatch his victims. There seems to be a message which he is trying to convey in the way the victims are prepared for death, and posed in their final agonies, and a female academic, Rachel Wolfe, who “had a reputation as a fine criminal psychologist”, impresses Parker with her ability to make sense of the message; in the course of the story Parker becomes close to her, but also plunging him into guilt because he hasn’t stopped loving his dead wife and child, given how recent this ghastly event is. After the prologue, containing the aforementioned police reports, the book is effectively in two parts [although there are actually more than that]; so, when the reader thinks it is nearly concluded, it continues for some time afterwards; but that is sustainable, the way the narrative is structured. Not an easy read, but a very competent thriller. The paperback I read was published in 2010 [1999] by Hodder & Stoughton, London, ISBN 978-1-4447-0864–6.

Spy Hook, by Len Deighton

Although his name might not be so well known nowadays, Len Deighton deserves to be as equally well known and regarded as the other great British spy writer, John le Carré: the former is certainly equally, if not more prolific than the latter. This is the first story in the second trilogy of novels featuring the character Bernard Samson, “a tough, cynical and disrespectful MI6 intelligence officer”, according to Wikipedia. Bernard is somewhat in the doldrums, and slightly surprised that he is under no more than suspicion at work, after the recent defection of his wife, Fiona, to the Russians; he does, however, take solace in the company of his much younger girlfriend, Gloria, who also works at MI6, but is threatening to leave, because her employer won’t give her leave to take time out and study at Cambridge. During his travels, to both the USA and Berlin, Bernard begins harbouring suspicions that a large amount of money might have been misappropriated from MI6, but no matter how discreetly he goes about enquiring about it, to ascertain the truth, he realises that he is being anticipated, as a result of all the inherently clandestine connections in the security services, so it isn’t long before he realises that his life could be in real danger, unless he is extremely careful: if that is even possible. The atmosphere here is almost quaintly dated, given that it is written before the ubiquity of mobile ‘phones, and the proliferation of personal computers, but it is none the less engaging for that; it is a period piece, but well within living memory for many readers, and if you enjoy a well researched spy novel, you should enjoy this. The paperback I read was published in 1989 by Grafton Books, a division of the Collins Publishing Group, London [1988, Hutchinson Ltd.], ISBN 0-5860-6896-1.

Mr Cadmus, by Peter Ackroyd

This is a strange little story from Peter Ackroyd. One the one hand, it is a pretty straightforward tale of an adult, the eponymous and mysteriously foreign Mr Cadmus, who comes to live in a little Devon village in the 1980s, but with an ulterior motive which is belied by his urbane, and strangely attractive demeanour; on the other hand, it is a fable about the Mediterranean island of his wartime childhood, and the possibly metaphysical manifestation of the religion which is covertly practised there, and which possibly predates the more publicly displayed Christianity. In Little Camborne, Devon, Mr Cadmus rents a cottage between two middle aged ladies with, either conveniently or suspiciously, similar names; Miss Finch and Miss Swallow — a contrivance, no doubt — and who might remind older British readers of a comedy double act from the slightly more enlightened 1970s, by the name of Hinge and Bracket, but there isn’t much humour in the backgrounds of these “Dear Ladies”. By the end of the story, I was left rather confused: one direction of the story was clearer, but aside from that, I’m not sure what it is trying to say. At least, in its favour, it isn’t over-long, at 186 pages, and the author’s writing style here is unfussy [he is also a biographer, so it should be], even if the subject is slightly opaque, so I am happy to recommend it, notwithstanding my ultimate confusion! The paperback I read was published in 2021 [2020] by Canongate Books Ltd, Edinburgh, ISBN 978-1-7868-9897-5.

Let It Bleed, by Ian Rankin

In this story, which is relatively early in the series, but roughly in the middle of his career, Detective Inspector John Rebus is shocked when, after forcing the local police to follow, dangerously in one case, the car they are driving on a snowy night near Edinburgh, two teenagers appear to leap to their deaths from the Forth Road Bridge, right in front of him. This is connected to the disappearance of the Lord Provost’s daughter which, up until now, has been kept quiet, but that now seems to be in jeopardy. As a result of this chase, Rebus’s superior officer is badly injured, and his replacement, rather awkwardly, is a former lover, DI — now acting DCI — Gill Templer. Before any repercussions are felt though, Rebus has to deal with the bloody suicide of a small-time local criminal, in front of a District Councillor. The further Rebus looks into this, the more he gets the impression that his superiors, and the ‘powers that be’, don’t want him to find answers which could prove to be embarrassing, especially if they provide evidence of corruption in high places; of course, Rebus being Rebus, the more he is discouraged from investigating, including being told to take leave, “or else”, the more determined he is to join the dots and find answers. Inevitably, this doesn’t prove to be easy, but luckily, he has the cooperation & assistance of a couple of his erstwhile colleagues, including the redoubtable DS Siobhan Clarke, who supplies him with official files when needed. In this mix also is Rebus’s daughter, Samantha, aka Sammy, who still has a slightly distant relationship with her father, but an action she takes as part of her current work complicates matters for Rebus and his enquiries. All in all, another very readable story for Rebus aficionados, and I am curious as to how good, or otherwise, the latest [the third!] TV adaptation of these stories is going to be. The paperback I read was published in 1996 [1995] by Orion Books, an imprint of the Orion Publishing Group Ltd., London, ISBN 978-0-7528-8359-5.

Book Reviews

Anthology #35

The Dirty South, by John Connolly

Hitherto, I would not have actively sought out American crime thrillers in preference to other genres, particularly British ones, but this book, written by an ex-patriate Irishman, as it happens, appears not to be in thrall to an established, and well known background of American writing, and I found it an enjoyable, and nicely paced thriller. It is set in rural Arkansas, not long after William Jefferson Clinton, “the son of a traveling [sic] salesman out of Hope, Arkansas, became the forty-second president of the United States”, and it raised the hopes of many in The South, specifically his home state, that “some federal manna was bound to come the Bear State’s way.” However, the expected, but by no means guaranteed, largesse of a corporation by the name of Kovas Industries could easily be diverted elsewhere [Texas] if the barbaric killing of a young black girl were to go unsolved. That would not be automatically facilitated by the mix of competing police jurisdictions, associated civilian offices, such as medical examiner, and the overriding authority of one of the oldest families in the county, the Cades, one of whom, with the given name of Jurel, is the chief investigator for the county, and not averse to perverting the course of justice, if it serves his family’s interests. Into this febrile mix comes Charlie Parker, an ex-NYPD cop, who is searching for the man who killed his wife & daughter in a ghastly way, brought there by the information he has received through his grapevine about the local killing. Because of his intransigence, and initial refusal to reveal any details about his background, he is immediately regarded as a suspect, but this is soon resolved, and after some hesitation, he decides to remain and assist with the investigation, in the hope that it might also throw some light on his own search. The build-up to the resolution is quite slow, but not unnecessarily so, and in this prequel to the Parker series, he brings his outsider insight to help identify the killer. The paperback I read was published in 2021 [2020] by Hodder & Stoughton, London, ISBN 978-1-5293-9833–5.

Marple: Twelve New Stories, by various [12]

As ever with this sort of compendium, in my humble opinion, the result is a Curate’s Egg. I was already familiar with at least the name, if not in every case the work of several of the included authors: Val McDermid, Elly Griffiths, and Kate Mosse, in order of inclusion, but of course, familiarity with an author’s regular work won’t necessarily give a reader here the expectation of a particular style of writing, although in Elly Griffith’s case, there was a specific hope, and I am glad to say that I wasn’t disappointed. To be fair to these authors, and others who are continuing the work of now deceased but universally popular writers, a writing style must, surely, be a very personal attribute, and trying deliberately to copy another writer’s style isn’t necessarily the best approach. Nevertheless, and I do want to avoid giving an impression of bias here, Agatha Christie was a British writer, and her mystery thrillers were set mostly in an England between the 1920s and the 1960s, so it does feel somewhat odd to read a Marple story set in the 1970s, and it was very clear to me which writers here were not British, as a result of subtle differences in English usage and vocabulary. Perhaps I am the Luddite, expecting all the stories to written in a style preserved in aspic: I don’t know, but despite all the main characters being here, some stories felt more comfortable than others. That said, this is a welcome addition to the canon, as are the new Poirot stories written by Sophie Hannah, and all the stories here are quite short, so the action moves agreeably quickly. Definitely worth reading. The paperback I read was published in 2023 [2022] by HarperCollinsPublishers, London, ISBN 978-0-0084-6735-7.

April in Spain, by John Banville

This book is the second in a series featuring the character of Detective Inspector St. John Strafford, and it is the first [possibly only, but that is unclear] to overlap with this Irish author’s earlier series, featuring the character of Quirke, a retired pathologist. The time period is unspecified, other than the month, April, but it is probably late 1950s, or early 1960s*. Quirke is on holiday, albeit grudgingly, with his second wife Evelyn, an Austrian psychiatrist, in San Sebastián, Spain [*Franco died in 1975, but the indicators in this story set it earlier]. After cutting his right hand quite badly, clumsily attempting to open an oyster, Quirke & Evelyn attend the local hospital, and while there, he sees a young female doctor, whom he had previously spotted in a local bar, overhearing her Irish accent; Quirke is a recovering alcoholic; but the doctor refuses to treat him, abruptly referring him to a local male doctor. This confirms Quirke’s suspicions that the young woman is the same one who was thought to have died some years previously in mysterious circumstances back home. He impulsively makes the mistake of phoning his daughter, Phoebe, in Dublin: she and the woman, now going under the name Angela Lawless, had been friends when she was known as April Latimer [hence the pun in the book’s title]. Quirke asks Phoebe to come to Spain to put his mind at rest, and after some hesitation, and a couple of visits to significant characters, she decides to accede to his request; however, she is accompanied, somewhat to her chagrin, by Strafford, for her protection. Unbeknown to them, a London hitman, but who has a background in Dublin, is also on the trail of the pseudonymous Angela Lawless. The tension builds slowly, but inexorably, and the plot is plausible, but there is one aspect of the dénouement which stretches credibility for me; other than that, it is a well-written thriller, and I would be happy to find other stories by this author. The paperback I read was published in 2022 [2021] by Faber & Faber Limited, London, ISBN 978-0-5713-6360-5.

The Stone Chamber, by Kate Ellis

By now, the Detective Inspector Wesley Peterson character is very well established, having featured in at least 26 novels to date; I have reviewed a few of them, the most recent, The Burial Circle, here. They are set in Devon, a part of England known to many of my ancestors, and this one starts with a series of murders, seemingly random, but after the first, the others are connected by the method of disposal: a bullet to the head. Also, an American tourist has gone missing, and there are signs of a bloody struggle in her hotel room. It takes some time for the enquiries of Wesley and his colleagues to find any reason for these murders, and Wesley is helped to some extent by his old friend from his archaeology study background, Dr Neil Watson; Neil is excavating a church which shows evidence of an attached sealed room, which might contain the remains of an anchorite or anchoress: these were Christian devotees who chose to be sealed off from the world, for the purpose of solitary contemplation & prayer, apart from their existential needs being catered for. This ties in with a diary, dating from 1956, excerpts of which are interspersed with the other chapters, and whose existence is only discovered later in the story, when its connection to the murders is revealed. The plot is carefully developed, and the perpetrator is only discovered after family connections have been resolved, and the lies told by people to protect their shameful, or even criminal acts, have been brought to light. There is a final twist which is unexpected and poignant, and certainly not implausible, so this is an engaging read from this accomplished author. The paperback I read was published in 2022 [2021] by Piatkus, an imprint of Little, Brown Book Group, London, ISBN 978-0-3494-2571-9.

Book Reviews

Anthology #34

The Twyford Code, by Janice Hallett

Janice Hallett has delivered up another scintillating murder mystery, following on from The Appeal; although the front cover description of it as “… the Murder of the Century” is rather hyperbolic; or, perhaps, just tongue in cheek? There is a certain humour in these stories, so that can be forgiven. It has, to paraphrase Edmund Blackadder, more twists & turns “than a big, twisty, turny thing”, so a moderate level of concentration is required while reading, so as not to miss significant elements. This narrative is also not presented in normal sequential chapter prose format: it is nearly all a series of transcripts of audio files from an old [by current standards] iPhone4, belonging to the estranged son of the protagonist, Steven Smith, and in a prologue to the body of the book, they have been forwarded by an Inspector Waliso to a Professor Max Mansfield, with no other explanation than that “apart form any personal connection you may have to the subject, your expert opinion on their contents would be very much appreciated.” The subject is “a recently reported missing person”, and it transpires that he was trying, with some old school friends, with whom he bonded during Remedial English classes, to find out what happened to the teacher of that class, an empathetic young woman called Miss Isles, who seemed to have some connection with a book Steven found on a bus, and took into class, after which Miss Isles read them excerpts. The book was one of a series featuring a group of children called the Super Six, and it was written by a now discredited author called Edith Twyford. There appears to be a code embedded in the stories, perhaps leading to treasure, but nobody has yet been able to decipher it. The feature of the book under review which requires the most concentration is the phonetic interpretation of some of the words, the result of feeding the audio files through a fictitious AI voice recognition app. This is another very clever mystery story, and the unusual presentation should not be seen as an obstacle. The paperback I read was published in 2022 by VIPER, part of Serpent’s Tail, an imprint of Profile Books Ltd., London, ISBN 978-1-7881-6533–4.

The Martian Menace, by Eric Brown

This book is another in the ever-expanding canon of The Further Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. Its British “award-winning” author has written several science fiction novels, a mystery series, and reviews speculative fiction for The Guardian newspaper. This story builds on the original & well-known War of the Worlds, and in a nice little twist [or contrivance, depending on your point of view] includes a character called Herbert Wells, who works as an assistant to the Martian ambassador in London, in the Edwardian period. Ten years or so after the first Martian invasion had been defeated by a humble terrestrial virus, the invaders returned, but this time with assurances of peaceful intent, claiming that the previous belligerents had been a different faction of their species, and they wanted to help the human race in recompense, which they proceeded to do; ostensibly. However, it transpires that all is not as it seems, and on a visit to Mars, as both an honoured guest, but also in his capacity as a respected consulting detective, who has been engaged by the current Martian ambassador [the previous ambassador having been murdered two years previously] to investigate the disappearance of a Martian philosopher, the awful truth is revealed: the Martians, who do indeed have two factions — one peaceful, but the other, the ones currently on earth, covetous of earth’s resources — have concluded that a ‘softly, softly’ approach to conquest will succeed, where the previous one failed, and their scientists have perfected a vaccine against the fatal virus. Obviously, the story necessitates suspension of disbelief, but it is well written, in the Conan Doyle style, and the action plays out with enough tension & jeopardy to sustain the reader’s attention. Does Holmes succeed? Probably not a difficult question to answer. The paperback I read was published in 2020 by Titan Books, an division of Titan Publishing Group Ltd., London, ISBN 978-1-7890-9295-0.

Wivenhoe, by Samuel Fisher

Interestingly, given the events described, this novel is set in a real town, in north-east Essex, England, but it is set in an alternative [not “alternate”, as stated on the book’s rear cover] present; also, I wondered if there was any similarity between this story, and that in a novel with a name not very far different, Ivanhoe: it would appear not, so it is presumably simply a linguistic coincidence. For unexplained reasons, this part of England is experiencing what could be the beginning of a new ice age, because there has been snow & ice on the ground for around a year, and society has all but broken down; there, at least. Many people, primarily the vulnerable, have already left, and the national government is only just functioning, albeit at some remove; the remaining residents are supplied sporadically by visiting half-track vehicles, but otherwise, they are left to their own devices, which include breaking & entering surrounding empty properties for looting, and meeting occasionally in a village hall called the Nottage. The action plays out over twenty-four hours; so it is a relatively short book; and it describes the aftermath of a brutal murder, through the ruminations & observations of two characters, Joe and Helen. The murderer is Patrick, Joe’s brother, and Helen, who is deteriorating mentally & physically in some unspecified way, is their mother. Unfortunately, I found all the internal musing & recollections of previous and, inevitably, contributory events, somewhat tiresome; in other words, too little action was padded out with too much thinking: it felt to me rather like a couple of episodes of a soap opera I would be very unlikely to watch. The paperback I read was published in 2023 [2022] by Corsair, an imprint of Little, Brown Book Group, London, ISBN 978-1-4721-5642-6.

Quantum Radio, by A.G. Riddle

I found this book fascinating, because I always enjoy stories — not always science fiction or fantasy — which use the ‘what if’ premise as their basis; also, there is a mention in the terminating Author’s Note that this is the first of a series so, although they might be a few years in coming, I will keep a beady eye out for further stories. The aforementioned note specifies that “Quantum Radio is about people who want to change the future. They just have different ideas about what that future should look like. And, to a certain extent, different ideas about what to sacrifice in order to create that future.” It could, justifiably, be said that nearly every intelligent person has a similar goal in life, after the normal self-centred adolescence, but the difference here is the vehicle by which that goal can be achieved: which is quantum science, not currently available to more than a few scientists. The tantalising prospect, as with the fears about the still relatively recent commencement of the Large Hadron Collider project, is what opportunities this could bring forth. This is what was engaging Tyson Klein, a comparatively young scientist working at the LHC, when he made what he considered to be a world-changing discovery, concerning the consequences of the particle collisions that fantastic machine was built to facilitate. It transpires that three other people, two from widely different backgrounds, will be playing pivotal rôles in this story, and they become bonded as the narrative, which encompasses potentially apocalyptic destruction, unfolds. I could mention other, similar, fictional scenarios in literature and/or visual media, but they might reveal too much about this story, and I wouldn’t want to spoil the enjoyment of potential readers; suffice to say, if you enjoy fantasy with a reasonable factual grounding, you should enjoy this story, and its potential successors. The paperback I read was published in 2024 [2023] by Head of Zeus, part of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, London, ISBN 978-1-8032-8171-1.

Book Reviews

Anthology #33

Foul Play at the Seaview Hotel, by Glenda Young

This is described on the front cover as a Cosy Crime Mystery, featuring the protagonist Helen Dexter, and I would say that that is pretty accurate; whilst I do try to avoid gender stereotypes, I think this story and its two predecessors set at the same venue will, I venture to suggest, appeal more to women than men. There is a murder, but as much attention seems to be paid to the potential love life of the widowed heroine, and the hair of some of the characters, as to her amateur sleuthing. The plot revolves around a somewhat implausible [for me, anyway] rivalry between two teams of players of what is known in Britain as Crazy Golf — a fun pastime normally enjoyed by families with young children, while enjoying good weather, or killing time in poor weather at the British seaside — not something to be taken so seriously as the participants in this murder mystery do. The venue is a fictional hotel overlooking the North Bay of a seaside town well known to me: Scarborough, and I have to confess that it was the photo of the town on the cover of the book which persuaded me to try it; there is also a whiff of a marketing exercise for the town, either intentional, or merely incidental, but it is interesting to me that Scarborough’s closest rival, the arguably trendier Whitby, doesn’t rate a single mention. The previous two stories included murder involving a group of Elvis Presley impersonators [of which Helen’s deceased husband, albeit not murdered, was one], and a troupe of actors: this one seems to be stretching credibility somewhat. The murder is solved by the heroine, and life continues more or less as contentedly as before. The paperback I read was published in 2023 by HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP, London, ISBN 978-1-4722-8575–1.

Death of a Traitor, by M.C. Beaton, with R.W. Green

Hamish Macbeth’s sleepy fictional Scottish highland village of Lochdubh has been launched into the murky, and often dangerous, world of espionage. The reader isn’t necessarily aware of this at first, although the title might be an indication. The story starts with a missing person case, which wouldn’t ordinarily cause sergeant Macbeth much concern; although a successful conclusion would possibly alleviate his concern over the threat to his little police office, by convincing his budget-fixated superiors that efficient policing can happen even ‘out in the sticks’. It soon transpires that the misper was not the friendly & helpful woman she wanted to appear to be, and when her body is found a couple of days later, Hamish has to ascertain from her neighbours which of them might have disliked her enough to have a reason to kill her. This transition into the world of espionage might be a deliberate policy on the part of Rod Green, who has taken over authorship of these stories from the deceased Marion Beaton; time will tell, of course, but the succeeding novel, entitled Death of a Spy, a short taster of which is given at the end of this book, continues the story: possibly Green thought that this introduction was sufficiently strong to stand alone, rather than keeping it until the whole story was complete — or there might be further instalments yet — we shall have to wait and see. That said, this story includes the usual conflict between Macbeth and two of his superiors, one of whom is more easily intimidated than the other, and there is the ongoing saga of his lack of a love life; he is also saddled with a new colleague, who could potentially be a spy for Macbeth’s superior. Another enjoyable entry in this series, for which there is already a plethora of entries. The paperback I read was published in 2024 [2023] by Constable, an imprint of Little, Brown Book Group, London, ISBN 978-1-4721-2894-2.

The Dig, by John Preston

It wasn’t until I had been reading this story for a couple of [quite long] chapters that I realised the story seemed familiar; then I remembered that the story had been dramatised into a feature film, given a limited release in mid-January 2021, subsequently available to stream on the Netflix platform, from the end of that month. I suppose that is the shape of things to come, but I find it slightly sad that the film wasn’t available to view on a large screen for longer than this; also, the casting raises some questions for me, but no doubt there were expedient reasons for this. The story is a fictional version of real events, set on the brink of world war two: the sensational archaeological discoveries on the land in Suffolk belonging to Mrs. Edith Pretty, the 57-year old owner of Sutton House, and the land was known as Sutton Hoo. Mrs. Pretty is convinced that there are ancient artefacts buried in one or more of the mounds, of varying size, on her land: this might be connected to her persistent grieving for her dead husband. She enlists the help of a local amateur archaeologist, Basil Brown, who negotiates a slightly higher rate of pay than Mrs. Pretty was initially expecting to pay, but their relationship remains cordial. After some early very promising finds, more qualified archaeologists become involved, and Brown becomes sidelined, although he remains on the dig to help. I haven’t seen the film, but I have a suspicion that Carey Mulligan was cast as Mrs. Pretty, and Ralph Fiennes as Basil Brown to make the abstinence of the two leads seem more poignant than it actually was: Brown was happily married, and had no thoughts of straying; his wife also makes an appearance in the narrative. The more significant story here is the pre-war emphasis on class divisions, given that Brown had no academic qualifications, whereas most of the experts brought in had degrees from Cambridge; his work was eventually given the recognition it deserved. It’s easy reading, but with a real social relevance. The hardback I read was published in 2007 by the Penguin Group, London, ISBN 978-0-6709-1491-3.

The Whistleblower, by Robert Peston

This is the first example of fiction from one of Britain’s foremost political journalists, and it is a searing indictment of how politics has become further corrupted since the relatively recent [1997] beacon of hope, which shone its light upon a British public weary of sleaze & ineptitude, particularly emanating from the right wing of the political spectrum. There is no hint that current events provided the necessary impetus, given that the story is now three years old, but it is interesting, macabrely amusing even, how close a parallel there is between the machinations herein and the current farrago. The story is set in 1997, and it is as close a pastiche of Tony Blair’s ascendancy, and Rupert Murdoch’s seizure of the most influential propaganda platforms then, which will prevent a world of pain descending on its author. Gil Peck is a political journalist (natch) working for a respected newspaper which is, however, and unfortunately, also owned by a South African (see what he did there) media tycoon who publishes a ‘red top’ scandal-rag ‘sister’ paper. Gil’s sister Clare is a top civil servant at HM Treasury, and she discovers that the introduction of a fiscal policy which would have taxed pension funds and enabled public services to benefit directly, and was intended to be included in the Conservative election manifesto, has been cancelled. Then she has a tragic cycling accident and dies as a result. Gil, who had become somewhat estranged from Clare, obtains disturbing information about this event which causes severe misgivings, so he sets out to find the truth, at the risk of his career, and even his life. I can’t recommend this book highly enough, especially if you have an interest in politics, and moral outrage about the way things are going. The paperback I read was published in 2022 [2021] by ZAFFRE, an imprint of Bonnier Books UK, London, ISBN 978-1-8387-7526-1.

Book Reviews

Anthology #32

The Raging Storm, by Ann Cleeves

This is only the third in the Matthew Venn series by this expert author, but already, it has the feel of a well-established series, with familiar characters; the second of the previous two stories, the Heron’s Cry, is reviewed here. Venn is a Detective Inspector in the Devon [England] & Cornwall police force, based at Barnstaple, and he enjoys the beauty of the surrounding coast & countryside, but he is still working his way out of the guilt he feels at abandoning his Christian faith, after a childhood brought up as a member of the élitist Barum Brethren, who are still very much present in the area, including the locus of the story. His latest case concerns the murder of a local celebrity, a seaman & adventurer, by the name of Jeremy, aka Jem, Roscoe who, after having been away for some years, had come back to the area of his origin, and rented a cottage overlooking the sea in a fictional Devon village. He told the pub locals, who were thrilled at his presence, that he was waiting for someone special to arrive, but wouldn’t reveal whom. His body is subsequently found in a small boat, anchored by the coast in a spot which is haunted by doom-laden folklore. In conducting the investigation, Venn must counter the inevitable resistance, and even suspicion of the locals, although his husband, Jonathan, proves to be helpful [again], with his easy-going manner which always seems to put people at ease. As usual with this author, the characters are plausible, and the procedural action develops slowly, but inexorably, towards a satisfying conclusion. Also as usual, at the front of the book there is a monochrome map of the area, albeit not including the fictional village and its nearest town of any size, to help the reader. This canon has already been dramatised, so I look forward to seeing this one, if it occurs, and how well it is adapted from the book. The hardback I read was published in 2023 by Macmillan, an imprint of Pan Macmillan, London, ISBN 978-1-5290-7769–8.

The Hanging Garden, by Ian Rankin

Rebus is very busy: it’s 1997; or thereabouts: the exact date isn’t specified, and there are jumps back into the past; and he is still a Detective Inspector with the Scottish police, based at the St. Leonard’s station in Edinburgh. He is investigating whether a respected retired professor of languages could have been a war criminal, responsible for initiating a massacre of civilians in France during the second world war; it is proving extremely difficult to find any evidence which would support that hypothesis. He also become involved in a developing conflict between two vicious gangs in the city, which threatens to escalate into full-scale war. On one side is the outfit controlled by an awkward Nemesis of Rebus, Morris Gerald Cafferty, who is having to run his empire from a cell in Barlinnie gaol in Glasgow, subsequent to a successful conviction on Rebus’s evidence. The other gang is run by a relative newcomer, the amusingly named Thomas Telford; he has enlisted the help of a Newcastle gangster who is originally from Chechnya, but there is also most recently a Japanese Yakuza presence, which is very disturbing for the Scottish police: especially as the primary object of the upstarts appears to be the total elimination of the established order, namely Cafferty. The latter seems content to regard Rebus as his ‘man’, referring to him as “Strawman”, as a result of events which took place in previous stories, but Rebus is very conscious of the implications, always looking for an opportunity to disabuse Cafferty of this contention. Rebus is now divorced from his wife, Rhona, who lives in London, but their daughter, Samantha, is back home, and she & Rebus seem to be getting along well. Unfortunately, an incident occurs which causes Rebus to risk almost everything to make amends, and he is forced into an unholy alliance with Cafferty. It’s a convoluted plot, but as ever, Rankin ties all the strands together very skilfully, and there are no loose ends. The paperback I read was published in 2021 by Orion Fiction [1998, Orion Books, London], ISBN 978-1-3987-0640-8.

Picture You Dead, by Peter James

The subject of this most recent entry in the Dead series of novels featuring Detective Superintendent Roy Grace is avarice; probably not a word in common usage these days, but everybody is aware of greed, and the pernicious effect it can have upon people. It is probably a given that career criminals will allow this unpleasant personality trait to determine their actions, because they have decided that the conventional lifestyle of work for minimal reward, especially if they have no academic qualifications, is not for them; but greed can affect ‘ordinary’ people as well, even if only indirectly. When a respectable builder buys an old painting for peanuts at a car boot sale; not for the art itself, but for the frame, which has a certain aesthetic appeal; the life of the man, his wife, and their adolescent & diabetic son is changed dramatically. Serendipitously [or at least, so it seems at the time], he discovers that there is another, more interesting painting hidden behind the ghastly daub he had seen originally. Naturally, it is worth checking if this first image has any monetary value, so the man starts making enquiries. Unfortunately, people with fewer [or no] scruples become involved, and when it transpires that the painting could be a highly sought-after example of the fête galante school, by the eighteenth century French artist, Jean-Honoré Fragonard, it becomes an object of desire to which life-threatening danger becomes attached; an earlier murder also features. Roy Grace, who is still mourning a son only recently discovered, but lost in a tragic accident, and eagerly awaiting the arrival of a new baby with his second wife, Cleo, solves the crime and, of course, it is a moral tale, but it is well told, as ever. The hardback I read was published in 2022 by Macmillan, an imprint of Pan Macmillan, London, ISBN 978-1-5290-0436-6.

Summerland, by Hannu Rajaniemi

I found this story rather confusing; I wouldn’t go so far as to describe it as impenetrable, but there were aspects of it which impeded my enjoyment of it. The plot is conventional enough: an espionage narrative set in an alternative universe, dateline 1938, but the main difference, apart from the technology [read on], is that Adolf Hitler and his monomaniacal mission is never mentioned, so the reader can only wonder why, and if the consequent destruction of Germany and the desolation of much of the rest of the world will ever happen. The action is based in London, England, and the foreign focus is Spain, where the civil war which happened in our world is raging. The main enemy, however, is Russia, which is meddling in the war in the ways familiar to us; however, Joseph Stalin, in the guise of his real birth name Iosif Vissarionovich Dzhugashvili, from Georgia, has gone to Spain, according to a communist British local asset, to stop the war. To achieve this, he intends to take over the government, reject the Soviets, and make a deal with the British, which would ensure the defeat of Franco: needless to say, he is being hunted by the Russian NKVD. The protagonist is an SIS operative by the name of Rachel White, who is hunting a mole, after receiving information from a Russian defector, but there is a connection with the imbroglio in Spain. Where the narrative diverges from ‘reality’ is that death has been conquered, and the eponymous Summerland is where the dead go, so that they can live on, in a manner of speaking, if they are lucky: not all do. The confusion arises, for me, in the plethora of quasi-technical terminology surrounding this metaphysical development: it could be the analogous embodiment of the Steampunk lifestyle, albeit updated from the Victorian/Edwardian era. Some explanations of the technology were sprinkled into the narrative, but more, or even an attached glossary, would have enabled me to enjoy this story more. The paperback I read was published in 2018 by Gollancz, London, ISBN 978-1-4732-0328-0.

Book Reviews

Anthology #31

The Stellar Debut of Galactica MacFee, by Alexander McCall Smith

To those of you who are already familiar with this long-running [“the world’s longest”, so we are told] serial novel, and enjoy them, you will need no persuasion to read yet another entry [the seventeenth, by my reckoning] in the series, recounting the doings of the denizens of Scotland Street and its environs, in Edinburgh’s New Town. I am pretty neutral, myself: some people no doubt consider them twee and inconsequential; they can be that, right enough, but there is also some thinly disguised social comment, not least on the unique pretentiousness of the middle class, specifically in the well-heeled, urban, Scottish environment. Young Bertie is still living a relatively miserable existence as the betrothed of his classmate, the hideous Olive; unlawfully, of course, a fact of which he is, although, unfortunately unaware, and too intimidated to think of researching. Into their lives comes a new pupil, the eponymous Galactica MacFee, who immediately assesses the situation, and makes it her mission to thwart Olive by supplanting her as Bertie’s fiancée. At the same time, the artist Angus Lordie is mistaken for an influential journalist by a ‘Deep Throat’ civil servant who, in the course of Angus’s evening walks around a private enclosed garden with his dog, Cyril, imparts some very disconcerting information about the secret plans of the Scottish government. Other regular characters are here as well, but there is no sense that this series is heading in the direction of any sort of conclusion. The hardback I read was published in 2023 by Polygon, an imprint of Birlinn Ltd., Edinburgh, ISBN 978-1-8469-7641–4.

In At The Kill, by Gerald Seymour

Jonas Merrick, in this author’s description, is not dissimilar to George Smiley, in the John le Carré canon: he is described as “grey and quiet” but, like Smiley, he has a brain like a steel trap, and he uses his anonymity to his advantage, despite being described as “the eternal flame”, because he never goes out. Following the travails in his recent previous undertakings, in which he nearly died; one of which is described in a previous story, The Crocodile Hunter; he also retired, but was allowed to return to work, because he couldn’t face indolence, despite having a loving & understanding wife, Vera, and he is now ensconced in the Organised Crime section of MI5. Not as high-profile as counter-espionage, or international terrorism, but he still feels he can make a difference, and he is determined to do so. He sets his sights on a cocaine-smuggling network, literally shipping the raw product in a purpose-built semi-submersible from Colombia to Corunna, in Spain, and involving two major crime families in the distribution: one in Spain, and one in Liverpool, England, which has suffered greatly from this destructive industry. An undercover agent has been operating in Corunna, running an investment business called “The Biscuit Tin”, used by both the Munoz family, who have bankrolled the importation, and ordinary people, anxious to gain a good return for their spare cash, no matter how meagre, safe from the attention of the tax authorities. He was due to return to safety, having completed his allotted time in the field, but Merrick overrules his handler and other police & security service officers, to take control of the situation, thereby making a few enemies; unfortunately, they are impotent, because Merrick knows he has the authority to work this way. As the sting operation develops, there is a sense of foreboding that it is all going to go horribly wrong, and then, Merrick decides unilaterally that he wants to see the result of his work for himself… It’s a narrative which develops slowly, but it is worth taking the time to savour it, because the dénouement is satisfying. The paperback I read was published in 2023 by Hodder & Stoughton Ltd., London, ISBN 978-1-5293-4048-8.

The Drop & The List, by Mick Herron

If you are an aficionado of the Slough House stories by this author, as I am, this pair of novellas will prove to be a very useful adjunct to your knowledge. They were published three years apart and, read separately, they could leave the reader inadequately informed, so this pairing is a very sensible addition to the canon, IMHO. One could actually, and justifiably, question their inclusion in the Slough House canon, but they do feature characters from that series, even if the premises themselves only make a fleeting appearance. That said, these two stories do expand our knowledge of the banishment to SH of two of its later characters, namely JD Coe and Lech [aka Alec] Wicinski, although it only briefly alludes to why Jackson Lamb was shunted there: that is explained in more detail in a later story. Diana Taverner, aka Lady Di, is still one of the Second Desks at Regents Park, at this point, and John Bachelor, a ‘milkman’ for the Service’s retired agents, and Molly Doran, the wheelchair-bound archivist, also feature. The list in book one is a series of numbers, written on a concealed piece of paper, by a recently deceased retired agent, who had a secret bank account, unknown to Bachelor. The numbers relate to agents of the BND, the German security service in Britain, but only one of these is real: the rest are fictitious, which explains the bank account. The live agent is a young British woman of German extraction, Hannah Weiss. She is ‘turned’ by British security, but in the second story, another one of Bachelor’s old spooks sees an encounter in his regular morning café which, to his trained and not yet dimmed eyes looks like a ‘drop’, where information is passed covertly between agents. This has a direct bearing on Hannah’s progress as an agent: can she be trusted? These stories are over too quickly, which will leave the aforementioned aficionados eager for more! The paperback I read was published [The List] in 2017 [2015, John Murray (Publishers), London] and The Drop in 2019 [2018], by John Murray (Publishers), ISBN 978-1-5293-2731-1.

The Last Remains, by Elly Griffiths

This might be the end of the road for Dr. Ruth Galloway. Her archaeology department at the University of North Norfolk [UNN] looks set to be closed down, despite vociferous protests, including the participation [presumably cleared, rather than merely assumed?] of the real Mary Beard & Tony Robinson, both of whom are known for their interest in, and participation in archaeological matters. She has been offered the post of Dean at the same university, by a colleague whose interest in her she is starting to find oppressive, but it would mean having to give up teaching to concentrate on administrative work: a transition on which she is not keen. There is also the possibility of a post in Uppsala, Sweden, but this would most likely mean an association with the over-zealous colleague; in addition, she would have to break off her on-off relationship with DCI Harry Nelson, with whom she had a daughter, Kate [known, irritatingly to Ruth, as Katie, by Nelson, as he is always known]. Unfortunately, just to complicate matters, Nelson’s wife, Michelle, has decided to return to the family home from Blackpool, Nelson’s hometown, where she has been ensconced for a while after a trial separation; she has brought the late, and surprising addition to their family, their toddler son. While all this is going on, a recent, but defleshed skeleton has been found behind a relatively new — within the last twenty years — wall in a shop which at the time was used as a café. It turns out to be a student who went missing on a field trip at Easter 2002, and her eccentric tutor was implicated at the time, but nothing could be proved. It turns out that Ruth’s good friend, the druid Cathbad, knew the student very well at the time, even though he was a good few years older; he is still suffering the effects of Long Covid, after having nearly died when the infection was rampant; then he goes missing, just before the summer solstice… This is another very satisfying Ruth Galloway story, and I sincerely hope it isn’t the end of the series, but if it is, I can say with all sincerity that I have enjoyed every one I have read. The paperback I read was published in 2023 by Quercus Editions Ltd., London, ISBN 978-1-5294-9075-8.

Book Reviews

Anthology #30

A Most Wanted Man, by John le Carré

This relatively late entry in le Carré’s canon appears to be a response to the so-called 9/11 and the War on Terror, occurring and, subsequently initiated, in the United States of America. It took le Carré a few years to deliver, but by the end, we are left in no doubt as to his attitude regarding America’s approach towards the scourge of terrorism. It starts relatively quietly, with an apparently traumatised young man, possibly Chechen, arriving in Hamburg, Germany, and throwing himself upon the tender mercy of a young female pro bono asylum advocate. His stated intentions are to be allowed to remain in the country, primarily, but also to train & qualify as a medical practitioner, partly as a demonstration of his Moslem beliefs. Curiously, he is carrying details of a bank account in that city, with the code word Lippizaner; the bank, Brue Frères, is not actually French, but run by an expatriate Scot: the name was an affectation of the bank’s founder, and it was previously based in Vienna, but it relocated to Hamburg for what might, euphemistically, be referred to as ‘operational’ reasons. The Lippizaner accounts were held at the ultra-secret private bank on behalf of Russian oligarchs and gangsters, and they have been a matter of some embarrassment to Thomas Brue. It soon becomes evident that the German security services are aware of the presence of the young man, who goes by the name Issa, although that is not his Russian birth name. Unfortunately, as a by-product of the creation of the German republic, their security services are an awkward mix which must, of necessity, include the police service, but also the government’s American sponsors: a term not used satirically. Issa declares himself unwilling to claim his father’s legacy, but he could be persuaded by a resident Moslem cleric, who solicits donations for Moslem charities: unfortunately, he is only “95% good” — will the Americans allow this interaction and donation of Issa’s funds to proceed? Another cracking and thought-provoking story about iniquity & double-dealing from this master story-teller. The paperback I read was published in 2018 by Penguin Books [2008, Hodder & Stoughton], ISBN 978-0-2413-2242–0.

Hazards of Time Travel, by Joyce Carol Oates

I so wanted to give this book a good review, but it will have to be with reservations. It starts well enough, being narrated by a 17 year old high school girl in Pennsboro, New Jersey, USA, but it is set in a [for this British person] nightmare, fascist version of a possible future, set in the twenty-third year after the calendar has been reset, following their ‘9/11’ terrorist attacks. All personal freedom has been curtailed by Homeland Security, which effectively runs the country, and aggressively pursues its ‘enemies’; Canada has also, implausibly, been absorbed into the combined North American States. The protagonist, Adriane Strohl, is arrested at school at the instigation of her Principal, on a charge of seven counts of “Treason-Speech and Questioning of Authority”, immediately after giving her Valedictorian speech, and after interrogation as a suspected subversive is sentenced to the most serious punishment less than “Deletion” — publicly viewed execution — which is Exile, and that means being sent back in time to 1959, old calendar, in rural Wisconsin. It seems likely that her father’s status, MI — Marked Individual — acquired when he was younger, as a result of being charged with associating with [merely listening to] a Subversive Individual, who was later arrested & tried for treason, had marked Adriane out as being likely to succumb to “independent thought”. What follows is the most interesting part of the book, with copious psychology, which is one of her study subjects, but also as it applies to her, and the way the subject is being deliberately steered by ‘the powers that be’ towards the future she has been sent from. Along the way, she meets a fellow exile, one of her professors, but their relationship, although latterly intimate, does not end well. The story concludes happily but, for me, unresolved: that said, the message it sends is important, so although the book is worth reading, it fell at the final hurdle in my estimation. The paperback I read was published in 2019 [UK, 2018] by 4th Estate, [US, 2018, Ecco, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers], ISBN 978-0-0082-9548-6.

The Secret Hours, by Mick Herron

My pleasure at digesting this latest entry in the author’s canon was limited somewhat by having to speed-read it, but that’s nobody’s fault but mine. As ever, with semi-serial novels, a knowledge of preceding narratives is useful, but not essential. It is a British story, and the politics are bang up to date: only the names have been changed to protect the guilty. Diana Taverner is still First Desk [although that is privileged information: she is only referred to here by her title] at Regent’s Park, where the Security Service is situated; the blond bomb-site of a PM has been ousted by his ungrateful Party, and a public inquiry, called Monochrome, has been set up to scrutinise the operations of the British Intelligence Services: needless to say, for Diana, lead balloons spring to mind. However, she need not worry unduly, because the committee members are an uninspiring bunch, apart from one IT magnate, and the two administrators are relatively low-level civil servants who appear not to have been selected for their boat-rocking potential. While this is progressing, we learn about a retired agent from eastern Europe who had been given a safe haven in Britain; although it was safe until an attempt at abduction is made, which he narrowly avoids. This produces his back story, which involves two characters who are well known in the present, but in different guises, which are not revealed in full [and, with one of them, not even explicitly, although as above, foreknowledge can be gratifying & helpful] until near the end. All the usual machinations are here, and in my own humble opinion, Mick Herron’s writing can justifiably be spoken of as equal in merit to that of his possible model, John le Carré. There aren’t many authors whose body of work I would willingly own as a library for regular re-reading, but this one is at the top of the list: if you like le Carré, you’ll love this. In a way, if I ever get the chance to watch the TV dramatisation, I’m not sure if it could live up to the appeal of the written word. The hardback I read was published in 2023 by Baskerville, an imprint of John Murray (Publishers), London, ISBN 978-1-3998-0053-2.

The Old Rogue of Limehouse, by Ann Granger

This genre, that of the nineteenth century crime novel, featuring either contemporary police officers or freelance/consulting detectives, or the criminal elements as the protagonists is probably quite popular, although one stands out head & shoulders above the rest, namely Sherlock Holmes. This book is one of an already large series of crime novels from this author featuring these characters, Inspector Ben Ross and his colleagues, but she has also written three other crime novel series which include several, or many, entries. The inspector is based at Scotland Yard; hardly surprising, really, because being based at Hammersmith nick probably wouldn’t have had the same cachet. At least in these series, the hero generally has a wife, who could also be intelligent and capable of contributing useful suggestions, as is the case here. The murder victim is a notorious Dutch antiquarian, Jacob Jacobus, now resident in Limehouse, London; he has been known to pass on information to the police, no doubt in reasonable hope of being protected from arrest for his suspected fencing activities, although nothing had hitherto been proved, and Ross is hoping to glean some useful information about potential burglaries expected during the forthcoming London ‘season’, but Jacobus is slain before he can help. At the same time, an emerald necklace, a priceless heirloom of the Roxby family, is stolen; could the two crimes be connected? As usual, family secrets are not willingly disclosed, and it is a time when the upper class, or even the aspiring middle class, could use position & financial clout to hinder Ross’s investigation. The incredulous and/or officious superior officer is a well-used trope, and it is present here, but it doesn’t prevent the unravelling of the plot. Not an unduly demanding read, but engaging enough. The paperback I read was published in 2023, HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP, London, ISBN 978-1-4722-9015-1.

Book Reviews

Anthology #29

Agent Running in the Field, by John le Carré

This is a late entry in le Carré’s canon; the last completed novel was Silverview, published in 2021, and reviewed by me in February 2022; and the title has a double meaning, but I will refrain from defining which is applicable; or, indeed, if it is both. The story is narrated in the first person in a historical sense, albeit the very recent past, so we can be confident, unless the author has uncharacteristically introduced a metaphysical aspect to his spy novel, that the narrator has ‘lived to tell the tale’. He is Anatoly, aka Nat, “a journeyman spy in his late forties who detests deskwork and has the curriculum vitae of a middle-ranking diplomat who never made the grade.” He is married to Prue, a highly intelligent barrister with left-wing tendencies, who takes on pro bono work, and is currently involved in a campaign against Big Pharma. Nat enjoys playing badminton, and generally beating all-comers, and while “savouring a well-deserved spell of home leave”, albeit “A cloud looms over my professional life … I expect to be declared redundant” is not unduly surprised when a “six-foot-something, gawky bespectacled young man” who has bicycled “all across London just to challenge the Champ of the South” does just that. In addition to being a very competent player, who soon has Nat’s measure, albeit not always, Ed Shannon has very pronounced pro-Europe and anti-Trump views, and when it later becomes apparent that Ed has offered his services to the Russians, Nat falls under suspicion when he declares his association with Ed: why did he not do this at the time? Nat’s ultimate superior, Bryn Jordan, who is currently on secondment in Washington DC, normally allows Nat some considerable latitude, but even he seems disappointed at this turn of events. What follows is the operation to monitor Ed in his dealings with the opposition, and the possible dénouement. I’ve always enjoyed reading le Carré’s spy stories, and this one doesn’t disappoint. The paperback I read was published in 2020 by Penguin Books [2019, Viking], ISBN 978-0-2419-8654–7.

Complicity, by Iain Banks

This author’s name is one of which I had heard, and knowing it had some resonance, but without being sure why, I was happy to find an example of his work to sample. The protagonist, Cameron Colley, who narrates in the first person, is described as “a fully paid-up Gonzo hack on an Edinburgh newspaper” [is it just coincidence that I seem to be reading a lot of stories set in & around Edinburgh recently?], but without wanting to give anything away, I think he would have to go some to keep up with the originator of the sobriquet, Hunter S. Thompson. Nevertheless, he lives hard, and he is currently pursuing a story about corruption in the arms industry, a potentially very dangerous undertaking. The book starts with another character, whose actions are described in the second person, somewhat unusually, and these actions are brutally violent, even arguably sadistic, but the identity of this character isn’t revealed until near the end, so the reader has no alternative but to follow the actions and try to make connections; although there appears to be an overriding motive, which is retribution: this stems from an extreme version of Colley’s social conscience, but could Colley be the perpetrator? While this is happening, we are given Colley’s back story, including his relationship with an old school pal, Andy, two years older than Colley, and with whom he is still in contact: Andy has now settled into slackerdom, having bought a ramshackle hotel in the Scottish wilderness, after making a fortune by selling his business in which he sold very useful gadgets. Also, Colley has semi-regular sex sessions [quite graphic, occasionally] with another old friend, Yvonne, who is married to the handsome but openly avaricious William. The story builds well, and gives the thoughtful reader plenty to ruminate on, and possibly identify with, in terms of the iniquity of the modern world, so an enjoyable read for me. The paperback I read was published in 2018 [1994] by Abacus, [1993, Little, Brown and Company, London], ISBN 978-0-3491-4284-5.

Lies, Damned Lies, and History, by Jodi Taylor

This is the seventh book in this series, and the second one from it which I have read — the other one is the ninth, which I read before this one, but I am reviewing them chronologically, which seems sensible; either way, this is now a must-read series for me, primarily because I love time travel stories, but also because they are written with a nice humour. It is a synthesis of Terry Pratchett and Doulas Adams, and the protagonist, Dr Lisa Maxwell, always known as Max, narrates the action in a self-deprecating way: very British! Given this story’s place in the canon, not all details are given, despite it being effectively a stand-alone entry, which can be slightly frustrating, especially the functioning of the time-travel physics, but to be fair, as with most time-travel stories, the reader has to suspend disbelief that it will work. Max is a historian [not “an historian”, as Taylor anachronistically insists on saying] and Chief Operations Officer of the History Department of St. Mary’s, location undisclosed, which is a subsidiary of the University of Thirsk, which for some reason is situated in Northallerton, North Yorkshire, not Thirsk itself. The department is charged with visiting significant episodes in history for research, and these intrepid researchers travel in pods, which are vaguely described as stone-built shacks, but equipped with modern facilities, including computers, to manage the travel, and necessary facilities, such as toilets, but there doesn’t appear to be any attempt to make these shacks blend in [or be bigger on the inside, à la TARDIS]. Unfortunately [or fortuitously, one could say, else there would be scant story to tell] something nearly always seems to go wrong on these jumps and, inevitably, there is a villain, the renegade historian Clive Ronan, and the proto-fascist Time Police to contend with. Oh, and Max is pregnant, and if she should unfortunately give birth out of her own time, she & the child would not be allowed to leave that epoch….. The paperback I read was published in 2016 by Accent Press Ltd., ISBN 978-1-9109-3900-0.

An Argumentation of Historians, by Jodi Taylor

Slight plot spoiler necessary here, to reveal that Max is back in her own time, having recovered from the vicissitudes of the above and, presumably, intermediate story, but her son, Matthew, has been moved to the future by the Time Police for safe keeping from the evil Clive Ronan. In the previously reviewed story, the historians [who argue constantly, apparently, hence this book’s title] travelled to Georgian England, medieval Wales, The Wash in East Anglia when King John lost his treasure, and ancient Stonehenge. This time, they visit Tudor England to view Henry VIII’s disastrous jousting injury, Persepolis to watch it burn, and a siege in medieval England. Along the way, Max hatches a plan to trap Clive Ronan once & for all, having thwarted the not insignificant attempts of the Time Police to ensnare him; this is very much dependent upon Ronan doing what is expected of him, at the right time, of course. As with the previous story, there is copious attention to detail and, given that my knowledge of history is by no means encyclopaedic, I have to assume that the details are, at the very least, broadly correct; also, as before, the other and in no sense any less important departments of St. Mary’s and their vital staff are included at relevant junctures. This time though, unfortunately, there is a viper in the nest: because of previous transgressions by St. Mary’s — predominantly Max, it has to be said — Thirsk has now imposed a resident monitor, in the form of Malcolm Halcombe, or “the idiot Halcombe”, as he is described by nearly everyone there, out of his hearing at least: he is still being treated, very slowly, and as painfully as possible, in the Medical Department, for leprosy, contracted on a previous mission. I sincerely hope I can find more of these stories and, ideally, in chronological order, to fill in some of the missing details! The paperback I read was published in 2018 Accent Press Ltd., ISBN 978-1-7861-5233-6.

Book Reviews

Anthology #28

A Promise of Ankles, by Alexander McCall Smith

This is not, as the title might suggest, a study of Victorian salaciousness, a disappointment to some perhaps, but a reference to the penchant of portrait artist Angus Lordie’s dog, Cyril, of nipping [not biting, note] a person’s bare ankle, if he thinks, misguidedly of course, that he will be able to get away with it; otherwise, he is well behaved. This sets the tenor of the story in which, to be fair, it is entirely consistent with the rest of the series which revolves around the mostly quotidian doings of the denizens of the, presumably, fictitious 44 Scotland Street, and some of their near neighbours, in Edinburgh’s Georgian New Town. Ongoing and long-running sagas such as this tend not to encompass desperate or earth-shattering events, but nonetheless, everyday life can throw up odd occurrences, such as when out on a walk, Cyril sniffs out a skull, which Angus’s wife, Domenica, believes to be very possibly Neanderthal, in conflict with established & informed opinion. All of the regular characters are there, including erudite seven-year-old Bertie, who is thrilled to be granted a reprieve for a month in Glasgow from the tormenting inflicted upon him by his vindictive classmate Olive and her cohort Pansy; also Bertie’s doormat father, Stuart, and Stuart’s doting mother Nicola, who see this as something of a victory over Bertie’s absent but domineering harridan of a mother, Irene. These books aren’t to be taken too seriously, but there is some genuine philosophical musing amongst the narrative events; although there are rather too many Latin phrases with no translation for the ill-informed [guilty]; and the aphorisms of Italian ex-patriate nun Sister Maria-Fiore dei Fiori di Montagna do provide some light relief. A pleasant palate-cleanser in between more heavyweight reading. The paperback I read was published in 2021 by Abacus, London, [2020, Polygon, an imprint of Birlinn Ltd.], ISBN 978-0-3491-4471–9.

The Pier Falls, by Mark Haddon

This was not an easy read for me; the mostly short stories are dark, and suffused with the suffering of people who experience mostly normal, but occasionally extraordinary events. I haven’t read this author’s presumably best known story, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time [the title lifted from a Sherlock Holmes story], so I don’t know if his other work is as mostly bleak as these stories, and I therefore can’t assess whether he is using his writing to somehow channel & expiate dark feelings of his own, but that’s certainly the impression I get from reading these stories. The first, eponymous, story is nothing other than a catalogue of misery, beginning with the collapse of a seaside pier, and after giving the ghoulish death toll [64], there are a few pages of repercussions and [spoiler alert] ending when the pier is destroyed in a controlled explosion. I might be unusual, but this story has no merit whatsoever for me. The other stories don’t include such a litany of suffering, but in most of them, there is a brooding undercurrent of danger which, whilst it has to be conceded is present in modern life, it is rare, for most people anyway. One story could be construed to embody an example of how karma operates, but there is also an element of Schadenfreude which, for me, isn’t a positive attribute. The only story I enjoyed to any extent is a science-fiction one about some colonists from earth on an unnamed Mars-like planet and, whilst the dangers of such a mission shouldn’t needn’t detailing, the ending is not a happy one overall. I think I would read closely a synopsis of another of this author’s books, should it be available, before I devoted any of my time to reading it. The paperback I read was published in 2017 by Penguin/Vintage, London [2016, Jonathan Cape], ISBN 978-1-7847-0196-3.

Emotionally Weird, by Kate Atkinson

I have to confess I didn’t enjoy this book as much as the previous ones by this author I have read, all of which have been Jackson Brodie stories; this one is not. There are three narratives running simultaneously [helpfully indicated by the use of different fonts], one of which is obviously the story which the protagonist is writing for her degree at university in Dundee; of the other two, it isn’t clear whether one is current, and the other is a fabrication to amuse her mother [who is not her mother], or if the one set in Dundee is current, and the other one, set on a remote Scottish island, is from a different timeline. The protagonist, Euphemia aka Effie Andrews, seems to have a very lax attitude toward life, not seeming particularly interested in engaging with student life, or finding the initiative to break up with her slacker boyfriend, Bob. She does have the vague impression that she’s being followed, though, but her jaunts in his car with the ex-policeman Chick, with whom she strikes up a friendship with little regard for her own safety — although other students accompany them on some of these jaunts — seem to provide some colour in her otherwise drab life. As this thread is progressing, we are drip-fed information about her mother [who is not her mother], which seems a rather strange relationship, but eventually, the reason for this becomes clear. This is touted as being a comic novel, with a ringing endorsement from Meera Syal, whose judgment I would otherwise respect, but apart from the occasional wry smile, there were no laughs to be had for me. By no means does this deter me from reading this author’s other non-Brodie output, but this one didn’t quite hit the spot for me, I’m afraid.The paperback I read was reissued by Black Swan in 2015; published in 2001, [2000, Doubleday, an imprint of Transworld Publishers, London], ISBN 978-0-5529-9734-8.

I Follow You, by Peter James

This is another non-Dead series novel from this prolific author: I have read a few of these and, although they don’t have the anchor element of the Detective Superintendent Roy Grace character, they have been well constructed and engaging. This one started out as what seemed like a rather tawdry exposition of sexual obsession and, if it hadn’t been set on the Channel Island of Jersey, where I have lived in a former life, I might have struggled to last the course, as it is over 400 pages long. It does stretch credibility somewhat that a respected gynae-oncologist surgeon would be prepared to risk his marriage & his livelihood because of his obsessive pursuit of a woman who reminds him of an attractive girl who gave him a brief experience of ecstasy then dumped him, when he was a schoolboy, but human beings are driven by many irrational impulses. As the narrative progresses, Marcus Valentine becomes increasingly manipulative, even to the extent of jeopardising the life of Georgie’s fiancé, Roger Richardson, after he is involved in a workplace accident, and attempting to perform unnecessary surgery on Georgie, a situation he engineers by altering medical records and browbeating his colleagues into accepting his judgment as a senior surgeon. All of this labouring under the misguided delusion that Georgie would be eternally grateful for his concern, and fall into his loving arms when his work was done. It’s very easy to root for the victim, of course, and when the situation is becoming increasingly tense and dangerous, I was telling myself that, surely, someone must realise what this monster was up to, but no, James keeps the reader hanging until the very last moment to rescue the situation; it would have been a dismal ending, if not. Incidentally, James has now joined the ranks of the super-rich, by living on the island; those who were not born there or are not very rich are only allowed to live there as a benefit of employment, so it is often only temporary. The paperback I read was published in 2021 by Pan Books, an imprint of Pan Macmillan, London [2020, Macmillan]. ISBN 978-1-5098-1630-9.

Book Reviews

Anthology #27

Surely You’re Joking, Mr Feynman!

If any man [and this expression can’t be gender-neutral, I would say?] can be considered to have been a Renaissance Man, in recent times, it must surely be Richard [‘Dick’] Feynman, the subject of these informal recollections, which were audio-recorded by his friend Ralph Leighton, and then transcribed, so they are all related in the first person; there is the occasional repetition, but that is excusable. They don’t run in chronological order, either, so a certain amount of mental analysis is required, to arrive at a timeline, but that in no way detracted from my enjoyment of these anecdotes, told by a man who must have been either very engaging & humorous, to the point of being often mischievous, or pedantic & annoying, depending upon the personality of the person with whom he was dealing at any given time. He showed an early gift for mathematics [aka “Math”], and always enjoyed tinkering and “piddling around” in his garage laboratory. When still a very young man, he was recruited onto the Manhattan Project, so he came into contact with all the luminaries of physics at that time, including Einstein, and Oppenheimer; whilst the gravity [no pun intended] of the undertaking naturally bothered him, he considered that the greater good demanded his commitment, which he duly gave. After the war, he completed his studies and began teaching at the most illustrious of the American universities. He also enjoyed foreign travel, and always made a point of trying to learn the language of the country which was to be his host, encompassing the relatively difficult Japanese and Portuguese, very much enjoying working in Brasil. Given that he was never impressed by deceit, shoddy work, or flim-flam, speaking as he found and always being honest wherever possible, I think I would have very much enjoyed meeting him. The paperback I read was published in 2022 by Vintage Classics, [1985, W. W. Norton & Company; 1985, USA], ISBN 978-1-7848-7779–8.

Big Sky, by Kate Atkinson

Audaciously, this author, whose previous work which I have read I have enjoyed, lulls us into a false sense of security by not revealing an actual crime until roughly a third of the way into the book [page 148, out of 474]; before that, she is introducing us to new characters, and reintroducing some familiar ones, including our hero[ish], Jackson Brodie. By the time a murder is committed, we are familiar with four men who are friends of differing levels of commitment, including golf, but who are also possibly bound together by some other activities. One of the aspects of this book I have enjoyed most is the location, one I know very well, enough to be able to conjure mental images of the roads & surrounding countryside. One of the young detective constables who are conducting apparently routine, and even potentially boring follow-up enquiries into a historical crime, is a girl [compared to Brodie’s age] who saved his life in a previous book, but has now effectively grown up and acquired a career, so he is somewhat thrown when they finally re-establish contact; by this time, Brodie is following his nose by making enquiries not connected with the engagement he should be working on, and once again, Kate Atkinson is very clever at feeding out seemingly innocuous threads of a story, which inexorably begin to entwine as the narrative progresses. The dominating theme of the story is, by any humanitarian standard, a sordid one, but one which appears to be well embedded in the modern world, driven by greed, with virtually no concerns for human welfare, so Brodie manages to play a small part in interrupting a local manifestation, as well as trying to unify his fractured family. Another very good episode in the ongoing Jackson Brodie saga. The paperback I read was published in 2020 by Black Swan, [2019, Doubleday, an imprint of Transworld Publishers, London], ISBN 978-0-5527-7666-0.

Back Story, by David Mitchell

This is a meandering memoir, in both a figurative & literal sense, from a mostly TV & radio personality who will very probably not be known [yet, anyway] outside Britain; neither is he the novelist [this book’s author is also a writer, so I thought it sensible to make the distinction] of the same name; and there is a pun in the book’s title, because the literal meandering which the author has had to become accustomed to is a practical & effective remedy to alleviate the pain & discomfort he experiences from his back: other sufferers, of which there are many, sadly, will no doubt understand & sympathise. At the time of commencement of the narrative [because events progress, in the meantime] he is sharing a flat in Kilburn, north west London, so he takes us on a guided tour of his local area, starting in an easterly direction, following roughly a three-quarter circle, through rich & less salubrious areas, ending up at the BBC Television Centre, due for closure then, possibly already closed, in Wood Lane, a straight line distance south-westwards of about three miles. On the way, he riffs on his background [back story: geddit?] from his birth in Salisbury, Wiltshire, to childhood in Oxford, university in Cambridge, where drama & comedy were his main preoccupations, and encompassing all the neuroses & peccadilloes which make him the person he is, in his now established career; that said, he is a successful person, but the success was hard won, so it would be churlish to begrudge him that. The book ends on a happy, even serene note, as a result of his marriage to Victoria Coren, which left him rather bemused, albeit blissfully happy, given his late start and lack of success in the romance stakes. Even if you aren’t familiar with the book’s subject, if you enjoy dry humour, with a generous pinch of sarcasm [as do I!] you should enjoy reading this book.The paperback I read was published by Harper in 2013, [2012, HarperCollinsPublishers, London], ISBN 978-0-0073-5174-9.

Standing in the Shadows, by Peter Robinson

The production line grinds on, and another Alan Banks novel churns out. That might seem a somewhat cynical viewpoint, because that is what virtually every successful novelist does, but I wonder how many ever, while they are still alive anyway, reach a point where they say to themselves: “OK: that’s it. No more.” Anyway, enough of my musing: the world of Superintendent Alan Banks moves on, independent of any television dramatisation, in which characters die or move away through promotion, etc. Here we have a slightly unusual situation [from what I remember] in which a character narrates a strand of the story which seems quite separate from the scenario in which Banks finds himself, and there is a time difference: the narrator’s story starts in 1980, and in parallel with Banks’s story, which remains in the present, it moves forward as events transpire, until we realise that there is a connection between the two strands, so some initial patience is required, but it will be rewarded. The narrator is a student at Leeds University, and he is traumatised by the murder of an ex-girlfriend, whose departure he has found difficult to accept. This is the awful period when the murderer commonly known as The Yorkshire Ripper was terrorising the north of England, and the student is appalled to actually be considered as such in connection with this murder. Banks is dealing with an unusual case, the discovery of a skeleton, found to be quite recent, in a shallow grave on a piece of poor land latterly owned by a farmer who was the victim of a Compulsory Purchase Order, to facilitate the construction of a[nother] new shopping centre. When the skeleton is identified, eventually, it proves difficult to ascertain why the person might have been put in this grave, and by whom. As usual, dogged & efficient police work [and the odd contact in the right place is always useful] provides the information, and everything becomes clear in the end. Despite my cynicism, the familiarity of these characters made this an enjoyable read. The hardback I read was published in 2023 by Hodder & Stoughton, London. ISBN 978-1-5293-4316-8.

Anthology #36

Every Dead Thing, by John Connolly

Spy Hook, by Len Deighton

Mr Cadmus, by Peter Ackroyd

Let It Bleed, by Ian Rankin

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Anthology #35

The Dirty South, by John Connolly

Marple: Twelve New Stories, by various [12]

April in Spain, by John Banville

The Stone Chamber, by Kate Ellis

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Anthology #34

The Twyford Code, by Janice Hallett

The Martian Menace, by Eric Brown

Wivenhoe, by Samuel Fisher

Quantum Radio, by A.G. Riddle

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Anthology #33

Foul Play at the Seaview Hotel, by Glenda Young

Death of a Traitor, by M.C. Beaton, with R.W. Green

The Dig, by John Preston

The Whistleblower, by Robert Peston

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Anthology #32

The Raging Storm, by Ann Cleeves

The Hanging Garden, by Ian Rankin

Picture You Dead, by Peter James

Summerland, by Hannu Rajaniemi

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Anthology #31

The Stellar Debut of Galactica MacFee, by Alexander McCall Smith

In At The Kill, by Gerald Seymour

The Drop & The List, by Mick Herron

The Last Remains, by Elly Griffiths

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Anthology #30

A Most Wanted Man, by John le Carré

Hazards of Time Travel, by Joyce Carol Oates

The Secret Hours, by Mick Herron

The Old Rogue of Limehouse, by Ann Granger

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Anthology #29

Agent Running in the Field, by John le Carré

Complicity, by Iain Banks

Lies, Damned Lies, and History, by Jodi Taylor

An Argumentation of Historians, by Jodi Taylor

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Anthology #28

A Promise of Ankles, by Alexander McCall Smith

The Pier Falls, by Mark Haddon

Emotionally Weird, by Kate Atkinson

I Follow You, by Peter James

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Anthology #27

Surely You’re Joking, Mr Feynman!

Big Sky, by Kate Atkinson

Back Story, by David Mitchell

Standing in the Shadows, by Peter Robinson

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