Book Reviews

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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

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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

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Anthology #21

The Winter Fortress, by Neal Bascomb

This American author has written a clearly thoroughly well-researched and non-partisan account of the efforts by the Norwegians, subsequent to their invasion & subjugation by Germany, to resist this in any way possible, but specifically, to prevent Germany acquiring enough ‘heavy water’ to take nuclear research to a sufficiently advanced stage to construct or even, unthinkably, use, an atomic bomb to end World War Two decisively in Germany’s favour. This essential raw material was produced primarily at a Norsk Hydro plant at a place called Vemork, which was commandeered by Germany [Bascomb uses the convention many others do, of conflating Germany with “the Nazis”, which was not always the case], although many of the essential staff were Norwegian, most of whom were prepared to risk their lives to engage in acts of sabotage to hinder the Germans’ efforts, and the Norwegians were assisted to a great extent by Britain and, latterly, in the form of not always advisable or well-targeted bombing raids, the Americans. The title refers to Vemork, so it is a slight misnomer, because not all of the action took place in winter, although a significant portion did, with associated danger & privations for the saboteurs, albeit they were well acclimatised to their own country. History informs us that they succeeded, but how they did is the subject of this inspiring book; war is irrevocably evil, but removal of a brutal conquering military power has to be seen as essential. The paperback I read was published in 2017 [2016] by Head of Zeus Ltd., London [2016, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, USA], ISBN 978-1-7849-7705–4.

The English Führer, by Rory Clements

This novel is, coincidentally [I know synchronicitously is not a valid word, but it should be, because synchronously doesn’t convey the same sense of synchronicity] a successor to the one reviewed above, because it follows it very closely in timescale; i.e.: immediately after the end of World War Two, and in some areas of activity, hostilities haven’t ceased. To anyone with a reasonable knowledge of early twentieth century British history, the title refers to the putative British [i.e.: not specifically English, although he was] Führer: Sir Oswald Mosley. He would have strenuously abjured the sobriquet because, notwithstanding his prewar associations with and, to a certain extent, admiration of the German National Socialist dictatorship, he always asserted that his fascism was modelled on the Italian version [for details, please see my book Black Shirt and Smoking Beagles]. Without wishing to spoil the plot, Mosley does have a rôle to play in the book, but is it to him that the title refers? The protagonist is Tom Wilde, a half-American ex-OSS [Office of Strategic Services: the precursor of the CIA] officer who lives in Cambridge [England] with his British wife. A small village has been quarantined, following an outbreak of an unspecified plague [here there is also a parallel with the recent influenza pandemic], and it quickly becomes apparent to the British security services that this could constitute the start of an attack on the British government & people, but by whom, and with what long-term object? The tension is very well cultivated by this relatively prolific [13 other novels] British author, and the prevalent paranoia is well conveyed, so I would be very willing to read more of his material. The paperback I read was published in 2023 by ZAFFRE, an imprint of Bonnier Books UK, London, ISBN 978-1-8041-8110-2.

The Heron’s Cry, by Ann Cleeves

Once again [as ever, in fact] Ann Cleeves builds a narrative which seems to progress very slowly, deceptively so, but the characters are so easy to identify with, that my interest never lagged, notwithstanding the frustration of the police protagonist with his perceived inability to get a real handle on the case. This is a Matthew Venn story, in the Two Rivers series: the previous one, The Long Call [which is a reference to the cry of a gull, so perhaps that will be the pattern for this series] has been televised, like so many of the Vera series, but these are located in the lovely north Devon setting of Barnstaple and its environs; the two rivers referred to are the Taw & the Torridge. As in the previous story, Matthew’s husband Jonathan is closely connected with the action; not implausible as the community in which most of it takes place is quite small, and Matthew’s sergeant, Jen Rafferty, is also friendly with another character who is directly involved. A man who was previously a medical professional is murdered: stabbed in the neck with a shard of glass, hand-blown by another one of the characters, his daughter, Eve, and he is found in her workshop. The man, Nigel Yeo, was running a patients’ action group, North Devon Patients Together, and he had recently taken up the case, on behalf of the family, of a young man who committed suicide after being released from protective custody, because he was deemed to be well enough to manage on his own. There is no clear indication of the identity of the murderer until very near the end, so this is another very cleverly constructed story and, thankfully [for me, anyway!] there is a definite conclusion, with no loose ends. The hardback I read was published in 2021, by Macmillan, an imprint of Pan Macmillan, ISBN 978-1-5098-8968-6.

Maigret in New York, by Georges Simenon

I found this a rather frustrating read, and I seem to remember that the other Maigret stories I have read have left me feeling the same way [which is a shame, because he is actually quite a likeable character], because we are told regularly, and in some detail, how our hero feels at any given time, but the plot tends to be poorly elucidated: in this one, a one-sided transatlantic telephone conversation very near the end is supposed to tell us what the story is all about, but some necessary information is missing, and we are supposed to fill the rest in for ourselves, from Maigret’s questions and his sometimes emotional responses. As the title suggests, Maigret, despite having now retired from the Police Judiciare in Paris to Meung sur Loire, is persuaded to go by ship to New York, by a young Frenchman who fears for the safety of his father, who has lived there most of his life. When Maigret arrives, there are attempts at misdirection, and it is difficult to perceive when the truth of the affair becomes clear to him, but at some stage it does, although there are two deaths in the process. The young man’s father is alive & well, but there is a miasma of lies & deceit surrounding him, and it is this which Maigret has to penetrate if he is to ascertain why the young man was so concerned, enough to persuade a detective of the status & reputation of the former Chief Inspector Maigret to leave his comfortable retirement for an unknown country where he barely speaks the language. He is very glad to return home, despite his wife’s disappointment at not being brought a souvenir! The paperback I read, translated by Linda Coverdale, was published in 2016 by Penguin [1947, Presses de la Cité], ISBN 978-0-2412-0636-2.

Book Reviews

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Anthology #14

A Guide to Treehouse Living, by Elliot Reed

This clever & engaging book is unusual in that, rather than the diary form which is often used to notate events which happen over a specific time period, this is presented as an index, albeit as stated, not strictly alphabetical, but near enough. It presents the events in the life of a young teenage American boy and, whilst it isn’t specifically a coming-of-age story, he does learn a lot as the events unfold; in fact, because there is no introduction or prologue, we have no way of knowing how long after the events the index is written, but it feels like it could be some time, because some of the language & concepts therein have quite a mature feel to them. The boy, who doesn’t even know his real name until well into the book, decides upon the format of the index after finding them useful in books he reads to stave off boredom; he is given into the care of his uncle, who owns a mansion but likes to gamble, because his father went away and he can’t remember what happened to his mother. The most clever aspect of the book is how the events unfold more or less chronologically as one entry leads into the next. There is a whiff of Huckleberry Finn about the story, although I don’t think it is intended as a pastiche, but it didn’t take me long to sympathise with the lad and hope that his life would work out well for him. Probably a one-off story, but a later edition using the same artifice could work. An interesting slice of Americana. The paperback I read was published in 2020 by Melville House UK, London [2018, Tin House Books], ISBN 978-0-9115-4541-5.

The Winter Agent, by Gareth Rubin

This is the second novel by this author; the first being Liberation Square, which I have reviewed here previously. The first posited a fictional outcome to world war two, but this one sticks very closely to the facts about our espionage in that period as we know them; although, as he states in the final historical notes: “We will probably never know the truth…Some of the MI6 files will be opened in the 2040s…Perhaps they will contain a clue”. So this is the fictional account of an SOE agent’s work in occupied France, between February 1944 and D-Day, 6 June the same year, through which he worked with other local & infiltrated agents to prepare the way for a great invasion which was a precursor to defeating Germany the following year [given that this is a fact of true history]. Without wanting to spoil the dénouement, Rubin very cleverly conveys the permanent anxiety, and potential paranoia, associated with having to be constantly on the alert for discovery, which might or might not be a result of betrayal. Along the way, the agent, Marc Reece, a former Royal Navy officer, codename Maxime, has some very lucky [debatably, for me, too lucky] escapes, including after his situation has deteriorated significantly, but good luck shouldn’t be discounted, and Maxime was well trained back in Blighty before his essential mission, so that much is plausible. This is a well-told story, so I can recommend it. The paperback I read was published in 2020 by Penguin Books, [2020, Michael Joseph], ISBN 978-0-4059-3063–5.

The Frayed Atlantic Edge, by David Gange

This book is a real eye-opener; or perhaps more relevantly, a real mind-opener. In simple terms, it is the recounting, over the period of a year, of the author’s traversing by kayak of the Atlantic coastlines of, in compass bearing order, Scotland, Ireland, Wales and Cornwall. It goes without saying that he must, of necessity, be reasonably young, fit, intrepid and, depending on your viewpoint, fearless or foolhardy. What emerges is not just a travelogue; it is that, yes, in a very specific form; but it is also, given his academic speciality of historian, a social history of the narrow peripheral band of these islands which he passes and, he asserts, which has been overlooked and even, deliberately & deleteriously ignored or, worse, ravaged of both human & material resources in the name of progress, rationalised as standardisation, which is inevitably metropolitan in its conception. Given the latter, it is unsurprising that much of the text deals with esoteric concepts of artistic, aesthetic and emotional feelings, encapsulated in the work of artists, musicians, and thinkers, both ancient & modern, who experienced the might, majesty, and occasional devastation wrought by the ocean, as it interacts with these multifaceted coastlines. Gange is especially sympathetic to the until recently drastically reduced quota of non-English language users; thankfully, this shortfall has latterly been redressed, and the future for Scottish & Irish Gaelic, Welsh, and Cornish is looking brighter, along with their associated coastal cultures. I very much enjoyed this book. The paperback I read was published in 2020 [2019] by William Collins, London, ISBN 978-0-0082-2514-8.

Bad Actors, by Mick Herron

Life goes on as what passes for normal at Slough House, including the occasional turnover of its unwilling denizens. River Cartwright is absent, and his currently empty desk has been requisitioned by a new occupant; merely because she prefers its position to the one assigned to her; Ashley Khan, like all of her predecessors, still harbours the romantic notion that her current discomfiture is only a temporary glitch in her career, and before very long, she will be back across the river under First Desk Diana Taverner’s notional roof. Most concerning, a personal adviser to the prime minister, the similarity of the former to Dominic Cummings which might be entirely coincidental, has started causing ructions, and is intent on bringing Herron’s version of MI5, Regent’s Park, under his control, thereby minimising, if not actually eliminating government oversight. Needless to say, Taverner is fighting this all the way. Meanwhile, an influential member of a Downing Street think tank has disappeared, and before long, the circumstances surrounding this become very murky: this murk doesn’t quickly become clearer when Jackson Lamb’s Slow Horses become involved. This story is full of almost up-to-the-minute political and espionage intrigue, and justifiably shows politicians and some civil servants displaying their worst attributes. It is accompanied by a short story focusing on Lamb, but that notwithstanding, its purpose is unclear, although a new SH story is due this autumn. The impression it leaves me with, unfortunately, is that it was rushed out to be included with this volume, because there are so many obvious typographical errors, and there is no addendum or postscript to clarify this: at 32 pages, it could have been the prologue to a new full length story: enjoyable nonetheless. The paperback I read was published in 2023 [2022], by Baskerville, [John Murray (Publishers)] London, ISBN 978-1-5293-7872-6.

Book Reviews

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Anthology #13

Little White Lies, by Ace Atkins

This is another story in the Spenser canon, originally written by Robert B. Parker; I have reviewed a book by the man himself, Trouble in Paradise, which features different characters, but this one is about a Boston private investigator, Spenser, who narrates the story. Like the aforementioned book, this one is relatively short, at 255 pages, but it is crisp & easy to read, with no padding. Spenser, possibly unusually for a PI, wasn’t previously a cop, but served time in a District Attorney’s office, so he is familiar with the law in his country, and has contacts in the police; he also served time in the military, so he is no shrinking violet. His latest client is a woman who has been cheated out of a lot of money by an older man, with whom she was having a relationship; the man deliberately creates an air of mystery, telling her that he was a CIA officer, among other things, so he has to be circumspect about how much of his past he can reveal. The woman was referred to Spenser by his current romantic partner, a psychotherapist. Spenser quickly discovers that the man, who calls himself M. Brooks Welles, is a very slippery character, with some potentially very dangerous associates, so Spenser has to call on some help from previous colleagues, to bring the man to justice and achieve restitution for Connie, his client. Needless to say, there is many a slip along the way, and a couple of murders for added jeopardy. Not demanding reading, but enjoyable nonetheless. The paperback I read was published in 2018 by No Exit Press, Harpenden, ISBN 978-0-8573-0191-8.

Adrian Mole: The Prostrate Years, by Sue Townsend

Yes, the book’s title is a Malapropism, but deliberate, of course. It is used by several different characters in the story, much to the annoyance of the grammar pedant [hooray!] and hero of these stories, the eponymous Adrian Mole, who is approaching 40 years of age. This, sadly, is the author’s final Mole story; she was working on a new one when she died in 2014, at the tragically early age of 68 [my own age, for a few more months]; so this story ends with our hero somewhat adrift in his own life. I want to avoid being too critical of the story, because I am at a significant disadvantage of never having read the earlier books in this series, so I only have a very sketchy awareness of Mole’s life arc. He is clearly one of life’s losers, but he appears not to have succumbed to self-pity or self-indulgence. He is on his second wife [but the family tree at the back of the book shows that he will have a third in the future], has a son from his first marriage, and a six-year old daughter at the time of writing [the diary], 2007-8; for some unknown reason [perhaps explained in earlier diaries] the narrative starts in June and ends in May. The humour is gentle, not laugh-out-loud funny, but there is some social comment woven in, betraying the author’s, presumably, socialist political leaning. An enjoyable, if lightweight read, and I will be quite happy to read more of Townsend’s now terminated output. The paperback I read was published in 2017 [2010] by Penguin Books, [2009, Michael Joseph], ISBN 978-0-2419-5949–7.

Meantime, by Frankie Boyle

This is actually quite a difficult book for me to review; I like the author as a standup comedian and presenter of topical, often controversial, satirical television shows, which usually last anything from half an hour [the latter] to an hour [the former, in edited versions]. Knowing that his performances will be viewed by a wide selection of British people [and possibly sold to other English-speaking countries] his language, in terms of his vocabulary, has to be intelligible; however, here, because the story is set in Scotland, predominantly Glasgow, he uses a fair amount of local slang, some of which takes some thinking about. He also expands his regular standup practice of describing people, and sometimes events, with colourful [and occasionally abstruse] similes: it does become tiresome eventually, suggesting to me that he is trying thus to establish his credentials as a fiction writer; perhaps he will moderate this in further efforts. The story concerns the murder of a woman the protagonist, Felix McAveety, considered his best friend, and his resolution, as the one positive thing he might have done his life recently, to find the culprit, and the motive. The investigation encompasses his regular acquaintances, plus strangers who prove helpful. Along the way, they all [very probably echoing Boyle’s own political views] muse on Scottish society, which gives a very bleak impression of a nation collectively struggling with its mental health, using a combination of legal & illegal stimulants to numb the pain of reality. Only a partial recommendation from me, I’m afraid.  The paperback I read was published in 2023 [2022] by Baskerville, an imprint of John Murray (Publishers), London, ISBN 978-1-3998-0117-1.

Night Soldiers, by Alan Furst

I feel sure that I have already read at least one book by this master storyteller before this one, but an exhaustive search of this blog’s archive [and a filterable search facility, which the dashboard doesn’t appear to have, would be a distinct advantage] didn’t locate one. This is a long book; 511 pages in the compact paperback format; but rather than a daunting prospect, it allows the author to take the time to develop in relevant detail the main character, a Bulgarian young man by the name of Khristo Stoianev and, to a lesser extent, the subsidiary characters. The narrative begins in 1934, and progresses to the end of the second world war, so quite a long period of time; it is also something of a travelogue, of the Balkan countries, but also extending as far west as France. Khristo is recruited into Russia’s NKVD, the forerunner of the KGB, after a family tragedy, but he quickly learns how brutal & murderous the ground-level politics of communism could be; however, he is an intelligent lad, and quickly assimilates, whilst not losing sight completely of his moral compass. Soon he is entangled in Germany’s war, and is able to survive thanks to a combination of cunning, colleagues, and a life-saving amount of good luck. I was slightly disappointed that the ending, whilst it was satisfactory in one respect, was rather rushed, omitting some significant details, which was something of a shame, given the time the author devoted to the relating of the main story, but that is only a minor quibble: overall I very much enjoyed this book. The paperback I read was published in 2018 [2005], by Weidenfeld & Nicolson, London, [1989, Mandarin; 1988, The Bodley Head] ISBN 978-1-4746-1162-6.

Have a go!

Have you ever thought about sharing ideas with your friends, but you find platforms like Facebook & Twitter, etc. intimidating? Why not start a WordPress blog: it’s easy! Click the link to read the post. There are plenty of different templates to choose from, and if you have something to promote, there’s nothing to stop you; for example, I use my blog to promote the biography of my grand uncle, Wilfred Risdon: Black Shirt and Smoking Beagles, which can be bought direct from my own website (follow the link, and don’t be put off by any browser warnings: the site is perfectly safe—it just means I haven’t converted it to https yet, but it’s coming soon 🙂 ), but I also like to share reviews of books I’ve read, and other things related to books & publishing, so it’s not just a hard sell. Even if you only post now & again, it’s rewarding being able to share your thoughts with other people; check out the blogs I follow, from the links on the right, as well: there are some lovely, friendly people out there. As they say on The Prisoner [one for the teenagers!]: Be seeing you!

Book Review

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The Vinyl Detective: Victory Disc, by Andrew Cartmel

This clever story is the third in the Vinyl Detective series; there is a fourth book, Flip Back, described at the time of publishing of this book as being scheduled for May 2019, and I am presuming it is part of the same series, given that each book has a title which is associated with vinyl records. The author, clearly—if his knowledge of the subjects, on display in this book—is a jazz & HiFi enthusiast, and as well as being a novelist, he is also a screenwriter [Midsomer Murders, Torchwood], script editor [Doctor Who], playwright and comic/graphic novel writer, and has toured as a standup comedian: so, very versatile, and his sense of humour comes across in this story, in an understated way. There are brief mentions of a previous adventure, in which the principal character, who narrates but whose name is not revealed in the narrative, and is known by his sobriquet of The Vinyl Detective, was in some danger, but he obviously survived to be involved in this story. The other main characters, who all live in London, are the narrator’s girlfriend Nevada, and their friends, Jordon [aka Tinkler], a fellow audiophile, and the woman he loves—“or at least lusted after”—Agatha DuBois-Kanes, known as Clean Head, because her head is shaved; plus two cats, Turquoise [aka Turk], and Fanny.

At the start of the story, Tinkler has bought a very large speaker cabinet; an exponential horn-loaded loudspeaker, to be specific, for his HiFi: unfortunately, he knew he would be away in France on holiday when it should be delivered, so he asked Clean Head to tell the Vinyl Detective & Nevada that he had arranged to have it delivered to them, somewhat accidentally-on-purpose neglecting to tell his amoureuse that said speaker was a “black behemoth”, taller than an upright piano, and deeper. While searching inside it for the necessary cables, which appeared to have originally been taped to the lip of the cabinet’s internal opening, they discover a very old shellac 78 rpm record, and this sets off a whole train of events involving survivors of the wartime Flare Path Orchestra, the British version of Glenn Miller’s Army Air Force Band, and the daughter of the band’s leader, Colonel ‘Lucky’ Lucian Honeyland; all the other members of that illustrious [but fictitious] band were in the Air Force, but Lucky was a flier, and a squadron commander, no less. Miss Honeyland commissions the Vinyl Detective and Nevada to find as many other extant records by the Flare Path Orchestra as they can, and in addition to the discs, she is more than happy to pay generously for anecdotes from surviving members as well, so the Vinyl Detective is very happy to help.

Since neither the narrator nor Nevada owns a car, they are accompanied by one or both of the other two of their friends; either in Tinkler’s Volvo, or Clean Head’s taxi; and during the research they variously undertake, they encounter a nubile young 18-year old woman, Opal Gadon, and a ferret-faced local history researcher, who is knowledgable about a tragic wartime murder case in Kent. Also: what is the story behind a psychedelically painted ‘hippie’ van, which seems to mysteriously follow them around? Incrementally, they discover surviving members of the Flare Path Orchestra, and a few more invaluable 78 records, but they also uncover another group which has an interest in the activities & politics of Lucky Honeyland which portrays him as a rather different character; especially in view of the popular and highly lucrative children’s books which he wrote: that being the case, where does this new evidence leave his daughter? Does this have any connection with the brutal wartime murder? This is quite a tangled tale, but as a result of the team’s investigations, the true story is revealed, and the dénouement is rather poignant: at least one person’s quest is resolved successfully, however. This is easy reading, and not unduly demanding, but none the less enjoyable for that, so I shall keep my eyes open for other entries in this series. The paperback I read was published in 2018 by Titan Books, London, ISBN 978-1-7832-9771-1.

Book Review

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Last Flight to Stalingrad, by Graham Hurley

This is not the first of the author’s Spoils of War series I have read: in fact, it is at least the third, and possibly the fourth, but it is the first I have chosen to review, for a variety of reasons [none of which was that the other ones were less enjoyable]. It is actually the penultimate book in the series, as of 2021, so I am not doing my readers any favours by jumping in here, for which I apologise. The backstories of the main characters don’t need conveying in any great detail which might compromise enjoyment of earlier stories, so they are standalone to that extent, but I would recommend, in advance of, and notwithstanding the following review, locating the earlier stories, if possible, which comprise, in sequence: Finisterre, Aurore, Estocada, Raid 42, the current book, and Kyiv [sadly, again relevant]. As you might be able to infer from the title under review here, the subject of the series is World War II and slightly before, but the stories are set in a variety of locations, partly to demonstrate the many countries adversely affected by the tragic events therein described.

This is a story which culminates in an act of revenge; not an act or a process which is subject to an easy or simplistic moral judgement; but the story also concentrates on one of the most devious, whilst also demonstrably successful, of the vile characters in the heinous hierarchy which comprised the National Socialist government of Germany from 1933 to 1945. It is Joseph Goebbels, who was Reichsminister for propaganda, and it is the relationship of a fictional character called Werner Nehmann with him which forms the backbone of this narrative. Nehmann is not German: he is from Georgia, but he assumed a German name for purely practical & expedient reasons, and Goebbels has come to rely on Nehmann’s journalistic prowess, which can sometimes involve surprising Goebbels with copy which doesn’t always strictly toe the party line, but which Goebbels has hitherto tolerated and even, in general, capriciously or mischievously encouraged. However, Nehmann is under no illusions as to Goebbels’s credulity, and as events progress, Nehmann comes to realise that Goebbels is a lot cleverer than he thought, and has always been a few steps ahead in the chess game which is their lives.

The timespan of the narrative begins in early July 1940, when Nehmann is effectively living in a confiscated apartment, ‘belonging’ to a rich fellow Georgian, Guramishvili, on the Wilhelmstraße in Berlin, and runs to mid-January 1943, when the tide of the war is turning against Germany, which is painfully obvious to all except the Führer, and his circle of slavish devotees. Goebbels makes the mistake of entrusting Nehmann with a billet doux to be delivered in Rome to Goebbels’s former Czech mistress, an actress by the name of Lida Baarova, who fled to her native Prague, after suffering a nervous breakdown as a result of the vilification she had received, orchestrated by Goebbels himself after being instructed in no uncertain terms by Hitler, who adored Goebbels’s three children, and also had a soft spot for his wife, Magda, to end the very public extramarital relationship. Nehmann tries a very risky manoeuvre in the course of this operation, thinking that it will give him leverage against Goebbels, but he is only too well aware that it could also prove to be his undoing.

The narrative includes at least one other real character, in addition to Goebbels: Generaloberst Wolfram von Richthofen, who was a cousin of the Red Baron, and was one of Hitler’s favourites, as a result of his swashbuckling prowess, and Nehmann has some interaction with him, during the German military’s ill-fated incursion into Russia. Aside from the fictional characters, whose dealings with real characters such as Goebbels are not consequential when set against real events, the narrative broadly follows the real course of the war during this time period, so scholars of real history who also enjoy historical fiction should not be disappointed with this story, although I was irritated by a few mistakes & inconsistencies, but I won’t detail these, because overall, they shouldn’t detract from enjoyment of a decent wartime yarn; and, as stated, the previous stories are worth seeking out. The paperback I read was published in 2021 by Head of Zeus Ltd., London, ISBN 978-1-7885-4756-7.

Book Review

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Blackout, by Simon Scarrow

This is a book which, in my humble opinion, does live up to its hype, with reviews from Anthony Horowitz & Damien Lewis, no less. It could be seen as an analogue of SS-GB, by Len Deighton; although the main difference, apart from the location, is that the former is set in the real world, albeit a fictional protagonist, whereas the latter is set in the imagined ‘alternate reality’ of a Britain conquered by Germany in 1940. This book is one of a numerous series of books on the subject of conflict and/or warfare in different timeframes by this author: he has also co-authored with Lee Francis & T J Andrews. The protagonist in Blackout, published in 2021 by Headline Publishing Group, ISBN 978-1-4722-5856-4 [paperback], is Criminal Inspector Horst Schenke of the Kripo [Kriminalpolizei]; Scarrow uses British terminology wherever possible, even down to the inexorably ubiquitous Nazi Party salutation “Hail Hitler”, but since there are few direct equivalents of military ranks, Scarrow does use the German terms.

It is December 1939 in Berlin, which is a sensible timeframe for a murder thriller story set there, because the country is now at war, with all the consequent exigencies & paranoia, but it is before the shock & physical effects of an Allied fightback started to appear; whether Scarrow has one or more sequels in mind as the war progresses is not indicated. Schenke has avoided military service, to his shame, because he has a permanently injured knee, courtesy of an accident during his former career as a driver for the prestigious Silver Arrows Mercedes-Benz racing team: he was lucky to survive the crash, but it left him with a game leg. He is, however, a diligent & moderately successful police officer, and he is “requested” by Heinrich Müller, the head of the Gestapo [Geheime Staatspolizei, State secret police] to investigate the death of Gerda Korzeny, aka Gerda Schnee, a once-famous actress whose career ended somewhat abruptly when she married a rich Berlin lawyer. Schenke is confused as to why he has been conscripted in this way, because the death did not occur in his area; however, he has so far resisted pressure to join the Party, which has been assuming ever more influence over all aspects of German life, including the police, and he quickly realises that, as well as having no obvious allegiance to any of the fractious factions which Hitler’s system has produced, he could be a very convenient fall guy if he discovers anything the Party deems inconvenient.

Schenke is initially unamused to be assigned an “assistant”, who just happens to be an SS Scharführer [sergeant] by Müller, and he sees it as an obvious device to keep tabs on him & his investigation [the officer’s name is Liebwitz, which I think is a nice little in-joke for German speakers, as the young officer has no sense of humour]; however, on reflection, Schenk realises that this could actually be an advantage, given the clout that even a sergeant in the Gestapo with SS accreditation can wield; he also shows assiduous diligence in his work. Also, Müller gives Schenk a letter of authority, which proves to be useful a few times. When another woman is murdered in almost identical circumstances, Schenk begins to wonder if, perhaps, this isn’t an investigation of one murder which could prove to be uncomfortably sensitive but, instead, one of a series by a psychopathic killer willing to take advantage of the wartime blackouts; further investigation by one of Schenk’s team suggests that this could, indeed, be the case… This is as much as I can reveal without spoiling the plot, but the tension as the investigation nears its conclusion is very well built, and the dénouement is very plausible, so if you enjoy a thriller with a wartime historical context, I can heartily recommend this book, and I would not be sorry to see a sequel.

Book Review

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The Mitford Trial, by Jessica Fellowes

When I saw the name Mitford in the title of this book, my mind immediately suggested a connection with Oswald Mosley, who was a very prominent personality in my book Black Shirt and Smoking Beagles, the biography of my grand uncle Wilfred Risdon, who worked closely with OM from 1930 until just before the start of the second world war. This book being reviewed is actually one of a series by this author, featuring the Mitford family, but this particular one does have a tangential connection with Mosley, hence my interest was piqued. If the author’s family name is familiar, it is because she is the niece of the author Julian Fellowes, who created, according to Ms Fellowes’s website, the television series Downton Abbey, with which many people [not including me, however, for ideological reasons] will be familiar; although how many of these would be able to name the writer is another matter. Without wishing to cast any aspersions, the success of the television production was very useful for Ms Fellowes, as she has written five “official companion books”. The first book in the Mitford series, The Mitford Murders, was her tenth book, and the book under review here is her fifth Mitford book. From the information given on her website, it would appear that the lady is very much part of the upper classes so, presumably, she knows of what she writes.

This also begs another question—how close is her relationship with the Mitford family, because it might be considered incautious to write about the albeit avowedly fictional exploits of a real family, without some sort of dispensation, especially as a family such as this might tend toward the litigious if its reputation should be impugned, notwithstanding real & documented historical events. This closeness or otherwise is not stated, so can only be guessed at. In this story, former lady’s maid Louisa Cannon is asked to spy on Diana Mitford; who later went on to marry Oswald Mosley, despite his known philandering; and her younger sister Unity, a fervent supporter of Hitler from around the time of his accession to the post of Chancellor in Germany. This spying is to take place on a cruise to Italy, and Louisa is unenthusiastic about the idea, especially as the man who persuades her to do it, “Iain”, is not prepared to reveal for whom he is working [but it is probably fairly safe to assume that it must be MI5]; his only ammunition for expecting her to comply is to play on her patriotism, telling her bluntly that Germany is preparing for war, which must be prevented at all costs, and the Mitfords’ possible knowledge of, and connection with these preparations could be vital to the British government. Despite having only just married a detective sergeant with Scotland Yard, the excitement she feels at being asked to undertake this underhand mission overrules her misgivings, especially as she is exhorted to reveal nothing of her task to her new husband.

The narrative appears to be historically accurate; I would have been surprised if it had not been; there are precious few direct references to Mosley’s political activities, but one is right at the beginning of the book, on Louisa’s wedding day: a rally at Trafalgar Square on the 15th of October 1932, only a couple of weeks after the founding of the British Union of Fascists at the former New Party office in Great George Street, London. Apparently, “the crowds are bigger and more rowdy than expected…”, so all police leave is cancelled, and Guy, Louisa’s new husband, must accompany his superior, DCI Stiles, in a car to the meeting. Stiles seems biased against Mosley for no discernible reason, although perhaps this is just a reflection of his copper’s innate fears of public disorder, if the lower orders are given something to encourage them to be rebellious: “I don’t like the idea of that many people [at a London rally] thinking the BUF has got something to offer them.” This is endorsed by the reaction of a cockney beat copper, who happens to be in the car with them: “Sounds all right to me, if you ask, guv: [Ramsay] MacDonald’s a shower, isn’t he? A traitor to the Labour party. We need a real leader, someone who believes in the Brits and the working man.” I’m not sure about that term “Brits”, but I don’t have the time for the research to prove that an anachronism.

There is a murder on the cruise, and it just so happens that Guy is, fortuitously, also available to help unmask the perpetrator, because he joined the cruise in mid-stream [although not literally], as he couldn’t bear to be parted from his new wife for so long so, because the death occurred in international waters, he assumes control of the investigation. The relationships involved with the murder suspects are somewhat murky, and there is also a historical element to them, so they take quite some untangling, and the added complication is that Louisa is not able to reveal her reason for being less than forthcoming with information about the Mitfords. The murder, and the consequent trial, is based on a real murder which took place in 1935, but I will reveal no details of this, as it could easily prove to be a plot spoiler; the character of “Iain” is loosely based on Maxwell Knight, of MI5 and, according to Fellowes, the MI5 file on Mosley was opened in 1933, “with a report from Detective Constable Edward Pierpoint, who had been at a fascist public meeting in Manchester.” I would question if a public meeting can be described as “fascist”, but no matter; what I am reasonably sure of is that, as Mosley’s first Director of Propaganda, Wilfred Risdon would have been responsible for organising this meeting.

This is quite a decent ‘whodunnit’, aside from any observations on class in early 20th century British society; then again, it is almost impossible to escape those, especially if one includes the epitome of this genre, Agatha Christie, so they can be seen as background colour, which helps to shape the characters. This book was published in paperback by Sphere [Little, Brown Book Group] in 2021 [2020], ISBN 978-0-7515-7397-8.