Review - Jonathan Dark or the Evidence of Ghosts, AK Benedict
In a city of lost souls, the living and the dead are sometimes too close for comfort...
Maria King knows a secret London. Born blind, she knows the city by sound and touch and smell. But surgery has restored her sight - only for her to find she doesn't want it.
Even the name of this novel gives the hint that this is a mash up of two genres. Modern day police procedural meets Victorian-style ghost story on the streets of (where else?) London. Ghost stories and crime novels seem like a natural fit. And Benedict brings them together reasonably effectively in her second novel. Although, as the title suggests, she is not really sure whether this is a crime novel (about detective Jonathan Dark) or a ghost story (about ghostwhisperer Jonathan Dark).
Jonathan Dark is a police detective, on the trail of a stalker who killed his last victim and has moved on to a new target. That target is Maria King, blind since birth but recently given her sight back through surgery. Maria is a mudlark, spending time on the banks of the Thames digging for pieces of old London. She still walks the streets of London with a blindfold, unable to bear the thought of using her newly regained vision.
At the same time Finnegan Finch has died after taking part in a deadly game while trying to escape the clutches of a shadowy organisation. Finnegan returns to London as a ghost, helped by his old mate and undertaker Frank. Frank helps the newly deceased come to terms with their spiritual state with the aid of a range of ghostly companions.
There is a lot going on in Jonathan Dark. The police investigation into the crazy stalker, a mysterious cabal with its tentacles across London including the police force itself, Jonathan’s relationship with his ex-wife, the rules around ghosts, and a subplot around evil soul sucking spirits. And all of this requires a fair amount of exposition. And while it is handled competently, there is a little too much backstory and information.
In the end, as with many crime novels with a supernatural element, the procedural element is almost completely subverted by the supernatural element. It is always much easier to solve murders when you get help from the ghosts of the victims. And this happens across all of the disparate elements of Jonathan Dark. Still this is an atmospheric supernatural thriller with some effective twists that takes readers to parts of London that don’t often get a look in.
The final line of the novel is: “Death has no sequel”. But not so crime novels. And with all of those rules and backstory out of the way, Jonathan Dark or the Evidence of Ghosts could be the start of another interesting genre mashing series.
Review - The Long Count, JM Gulvin
JM Gulvin is initially a little coy about the timeframe of The Long Count, the first in a new series centered around Texas Ranger John Quarrie, or John Q to his friends. Hints are dropped through the early text – Vietnam gets a mention and it appears that student rioters are taking up the time of the police – slowly building a picture of the late 1960s. The secrets that drive this book are also closely held and sparingly doled out, through to the startling revelations left to the very end of the book.
When the book opens, John Q, his young son James and his friend Pious are grabbling – freediving for catfish in the submerged wreck of a train. The long count of the title refers to the length of time an experienced grabbler can stay submerged. But their idyll is disturbed by the discovery of bones in the wreckage. This is closely followed by John Q being called out to investigate the killing of a policeman. That killing, followed a separate murder, and spirals out into a wave of other crimes and John Q starts to track the killer across Texas. Soon the trail points to Ishmael, an asylum escapee whose father has also been killed and John Q connects with Isaac, Ishmael’s Vietnam vet brother, as he tries to solve the case.
John Q is a traditionalist but is also a determined, lateral and sympathetic investigator. He carries two pistols on his belt and, in a bit of a homage to the old West, is established early on as the quickest draw in Texas. The 1960s Texas setting is well handled. And depriving characters of modern aids like mobile phones and sophisticated forensics adds to the Wild West feel of the book and allows for tension to build through the vagaries of communication.
There is a lot going on in The Long Count and because of this it is easy to miss the clues that Gulvin litters through the narrative. But they are there. And the final revelations give the whole tale a new spin. However, while the resolution is clever and satisfying on one level, it feels a little too neat. Still, John Q is an intriguing new addition to the crime scene and is likely to return, six shooters and all.
Review - Ten Days by Gillian Slovo
House of Cards meets Homeland in this powerful and unputdownable thriller tracing a riot from its inception through to its impact one year on...
Gillian Slovo’s Ten Days started life as a play that explored the London riots of 2011. The play itself was based on a series of interviews and transcripts. The novel follows the outline of these events but ficitionalises them, which gives Slovo a broader scope than that original piece and some licence with her exploration of character and motivation. But it still centres around a week of intense heat in which the disaffected and disenfranchised went on a rampage in London, in a wave of violence that spread across the country.
Ten Days opens ominously. An early morning discussion between single mother Cathy and the man who has spent the night in her tower block apartment is photographed by a passing police helicopter. Slovo litters the narrative with redacted extracts from the inevitable investigation into the events she depicts, giving the personal view of the events and emotionless and stilted counterpoint. The Lovelace Estate, Cathy’s home, is slated for demolition and already the estate is riddled with empty, boarded up flats. A heatwave is driving people onto the streets at all hours and the police, expecting trouble from this part of London, are already in a heightened state of alert, putting them on a collision course with the public. The situation is not helped by political machinations of the Minister of State as he manoeuvres for support of the party, using the police force as a political football.
Using multiple points of view, Slovo puts the reader into the middle of the riots as they kick off. She explores how the response of the police is partly informed by political expediency and partly by poor training and a deep misunderstanding of the population they are supposed to serve. There is also plenty of opportunism on behalf of the rioters, many of whom use the events as a way of expressing their racism or just as an opportunity for theft.
But there is no doubt who’s side Slovo is on here. The politicians are all venal and self serving, many of the senior police too, are playing the political game. While the people at street level (at least those we meet) are, on the whole, just trying to live their lives and protect their community. The only main character who even takes part in the actual riot has a change of heart before he can get up to no good but still gets arrested. So while the narrative might have been based on actual interviews and transcripts, many of the characters, particularly the politicians and those around them, end up being symbols or archetypes of the conflict. Given its theatrical origins, Ten Days would lend itself to a television adaptation where English thespians might be able to breathe more subtlety into some of these characters than comes across on the page.
Despite any shortcomings, Ten Days is still an instructive exploration of the drivers of the unrest that shook Britain in 2011. Slovo dissects the various levels of power and powerlessness that drive these incidents, showing how the tyranny of small decisions can snowball into disaster. Poor training and resourcing and the need for deep cultural change in the police force is shown as part of the cause. But it is also clear that the force has also been put in an invidious position of protecting the public and protecting the city while answering to their political masters. The circumstances that gave rise to the 2011 riots have not all gone away and Ten Days is, if nothing else, a timely reminder of the fragility of the social contract that underpins our day to day existence.
Review - Someone Else's Skin, Sarah Hilary
Called to a woman's refuge to take a routine witness statement, DI Marnie Rome instead walks in on an attempted murder.
Trying to uncover the truth from layers of secrets, Marnie finds herself confronting her own demons. Because she, of all people, knows that it can be those closest to us we should fear the most . . .
Right from the commencement of SOMEONE ELSE'S SKIN there's something extremely engaging about the protagonist DS Marnie Rome. Arriving at her parent's house, five years earlier, to the sight of ambulances and police outside, and the news that her parents are dead inside, it's not hard to feel the shock that she is experiencing. Made even more harrowing by knowing she's a cop / she's been at this sort of scene many times before. Instantly this author has established a central character who is human, struggling with an awful event in their own life, capable of empathy for victims and families. There's real skill in the way that this scenario has been set up. Rather than telling the reader all about Rome, instead there's a short / sharp demonstration of what happens when it's your own, and the reader is pulled from there, straight into current day.
Now Rome is a DS and she and her partner DS Noah Jake are trying to get a statement from a young girl hiding from her family in a women's refuge. The CPS want her to tell what she knows about her brother's involvement in an assault, whilst the threat from her brothers remains very real. Things at the shelter quickly go pear-shaped when Rome and Jake arrive to find another resident's husband dying from a stab wound, a lurking presence watching the shelter, and women who start disappearing from there.
In many ways (good) SOMEONE ELSE'S SKIN is a classic police procedural with a team working an investigation. It's set within a realistic world where culture collision is increasingly common, and there's enough background to give the reader a reasonably good sense of place. The characterisations particularly appeal, each are vividly drawn, even when quickly encountered, and the central two are strong, flawed, realistic cops. Rome, especially, is a great character because she's got that added empathy from her own background, and the vulnerability that comes from struggling, 5 years on, to come to terms with the murder (and murderer) of her own parents.
Best part of all - SOMEONE ELSE'S SKIN was originally released in 2014, and has now been followed by NO OTHER DARKNESS (2015) and TASTES LIKE FEAR (2016). Nothing like a new series to get your teeth into.
REVIEW - COFFIN ROAD by Peter May
A man is washed up on a deserted beach on the Hebridean Isle of Harris, barely alive and borderline hypothermic. He has no idea who he is or how he got there. The only clue to his identity is a map tracing a track called the Coffin Road. He does not know where it will lead him, but filled with dread, fear and uncertainty he knows he must follow it.
A mystery set within a bubble very much heightens the senses when reading COFFIN ROAD. The action is placed within an isolated small seaside town and there are very few characters for the reader to learn about and glean clues from. The lead, who has lost his memory, retraces his steps in an effort to find out who he is, what kind of man he is, and what it is that he has done that has left him with such a leaden feeling of dread.
May reaches deep into the psyche of his lead character and we are immersed very quickly in his nightmare. Having washed up on a beach with injuries, Neal Maclean seems to have no family, no close friends, and lives in a cottage bereft of meaning personal effects with only his dog for company. He is compelled however to traverse what is locally known as Coffin Road, a walkers trail along the coastline. As fleeting memories return to Neal, it becomes even more puzzling to him as to why he has chosen to remove himself from all he has known to live in this beautiful but remote part of Scotland. When he discovers a man’s body on a nearby island, Neal becomes more convinced that the reason why he came to be alone in this remote part of the world was because he had felt a need to hide.
Peter May never loses his way in COFFIN ROAD, coaxing his reader forward as Neal Maclean becomes more desperate to solve the mystery that his own life. COFFIN ROAD is a beautifully descriptive novel as well as being a very personal one; the roar of the wind and the crashing of the ocean are ever present as the melancholic backdrop to one mans’ desperation. The amnesia is thankfully only a minor plot device (that old chestnut) and it is not a novel about one man rediscovering himself – there are other forces at play that are very left field to the moody first half of this book.
Fans of Peter May will gleefully add COFFIN ROAD to their collection and new readers would be pleased with this almost closed room mystery that needs very few literary props to satisfy.
Review - Summer Girl, Kelly Vero
A woman is attacked in strange circumstances on a midnight street in Valletta, Malta. An island country known for its history of early civilisations and military might is the backdrop for a series of distant relations and revelations as we follow Jack Sant; a Knight of Malta, on his quest to solve some of the country’s worst cold cases.
Crime fiction with a vampire as the central protagonist, set on the island of Malta. If this sounds like your ... err cuppa ... give it a try.
Jack Sant is a Knight of Malta, a sort of consultant detective keen to solve the country's worst cold cases, and a vampire.
A scenario that is greatly assisted by this author's style of laying it on the line as part of the story progression - so as a woman is attacked late at night, and rescued, the backgrounds of both attackers and rescuer just fall into place. No big deal is made of the vampire aspects, as is no particular big deal made of the attacker's fate. From there on the connections between these unlikely events and people fall into place in much the same manner, as does their connection to Sant's cold case interest.
Along the way there are some slight twists on the better known aspects of vampire lifestyle, including how to handle food at dinner parties, and a slightly weird thing that goes on with Sant hypnotising people to forget any revelations he chooses to make. (Both of these things may not be that unusual but for somebody who is particularly uneducated in the ways of vampires, they came as mild surprises).
It's a very short novel and there seems to be a lot of character and build up with a bit of plot rushing along the way, although the use of the noir, first-person style might have contributed to that perception as well. There's a lot of Sant's interest in the case that just has to be accepted, quite a few of the connections that he uses to investigate that just have to be rolled with and some slightly odd scenes in which you just have to assume that Sant is sensing the happenings. Add to that quite a lot of Maltese words / phrases scattered throughout that turned out to be surprising hard to glean - so the links to a definitions were actually required and it was possible to feel a little disconnected at points.
Having said all of that, vampire crime fiction isn't a particular area of expertise and this reader could very well have missed some elements whilst simply trying to get a handle on the overall concept. The shortness of what's an opening salvo in an intended series certainly lets readers get a taste of what they were in for with Jack Sant and if you're into this style of fiction then it feels like this would be a very good series to get started with now.
Review - Nowhere Girl, Ruth Dugdall
When Ellie goes missing on the first day of Schueberfouer, the police are dismissive, keen not to attract negative attention on one of Luxembourg’s most important events.
Probation officer, Cate Austin, has moved for a fresh start, along with her daughter Amelia, to live with her police detective boyfriend, Olivier Massard. But when she realises just how casually he is taking the disappearance of Ellie, Cate decides to investigate matters for herself.
The fourth book in the series sees probation officer Cate Austin out of the familiar ground of career, single parenthood and England in a new life in Luxembourg. She's moved there, with her young daughter Amelia, to live with boyfriend and local police detective Olivier Massard. The adjustment to life in a new location, with a new language swirling around her is hard enough, but the disconnection from her career and what feels like a walk away from her own family problems, means that Austin is slightly lost and very out of sorts.
Because Austin is obviously feeling so lost and unsettled, NOWHERE GIRL telegraphs that slightly uneasy, unsure feeling right from the start of the storyline. Which makes an enormous amount of sense as feelings, intuition and discomfort are ultimately what drives a lot of characters. Starting with the disappearance of young Ellie from the local carnival, through to the odd goings on with illegal immigrant children, there is much that feels wrong, but not a lot that is obvious or overt. It makes enormous sense that an outsider sees the odd hints and clues, when their senses are in overdrive anyway, the desire to understand and fit in overwhelming, and that outsider has a criminal justice system background attuned to understanding the psychology of offenders, rather than just catching them.
Because Austin is such a fish out of water in NOWHERE GIRL it's not exactly comfort zone reading. There's something off-putting about just about everything in this novel. Everyone seems to have some sort of personal agenda, everyone, even Massard and the missing girl's own parents seem vaguely sinister at times. The plot is cleverly constructed with sufficient grey in everyone - including the villains to make you think, stop and consider why it is that this is such a discomforting ride. Perhaps the only aspect that is a little sketchy, and might work better with prior knowledge is Austin's own father's trial, and her difficult relationship with her own mother and sister. Aside from that, it is the sort of novel that could work as a standalone - there's enough of Austin's background telegraphed to allow new readers to understand where she's coming from, and enough of the personal story to see where she's probably going.
Add to the good plot a series of excellent characterisations - not all of whom, even Austin, are always likeable, but all of whom are interesting and flawed - good and bad, and you're reminded of how strong series this is. Which means this reader is kicking herself hard over somehow missing book three. Must rectify that error as soon as possible.
Review - The Darkest Secret, Alex Marwood
When three-year-old identical twin Coco goes missing during a family celebration, there is a media frenzy. Her parents are rich and influential, as are the friends they were with at their holiday home by the sea.
But what really happened to Coco during her father's 50th birthday weekend?
Set across two weekends - the first when Coco goes missing and the second, at the funeral of Coco's father, where at last, the darkest of secrets will be revealed...
The Darkest Secret opens with a promising prologue. An email regarding the hunt for a missing three-year-old girl followed by a number of witness statements relating to a weekend away in 2004 when the girl went missing. The statements, from a range of characters - including the girl’s former nanny, the builder next door and some of the guests - give a confusing but intriguing picture of the parents of the missing girl and their contemporaries. The rest of the book, however, is not half as compelling or interestingly structured.
The main narrative of The Darkest Secret revolves around both a disappearance and a death. The disappearance of three-year-old Coco in 2004 is told in series of point-of-view chapters of people at the weekend retreat. Twelve years later, preparations for the funeral of Sean Jackson, Coco’s father, is narrated by Camilla, or Mila, one of his older daughters from a former marriage who was fifteen at the time of her step-sister’s disappearance. Sean’s death, brings the players from the 2004 disappearance back together and revelations lurk just below the carefully managed surface.
Domestic thrillers of this type often run on nasty, narcissistic people and The Darkest Secret is full of them. Most of the characters are self indulgent, self-important, loathsome and as the reader keeps being reminded narcissistic. Even without knowing that there is a tragedy in the offing, just the way they treat each other and their children over the weekend is enough to know it will all end in tears. In fact, the mystery is really just used a driver to highlight just how odious these characters can get and the impact that this has on their lives and their children many years down the track. Overall, both individually and as a group, they are fairly uninteresting.
Alex Marwood, the pen name of an English journalist, has won a couple of awards, including an Edgar award for The Wicked Girls. This book has a very journalistic feel - Marwood tends to tell rather than show, particularly in the first half of the novel. Point-of-view chapters are used so that characters can reveal particularly obvious things about themselves and their relationships.
This is by no means a page turning thriller. Large slabs of exposition and relationship entanglements between the guests at the 2004 bacchanal get in the way of any real build-up of tension. Such build-up that there is pays off to some extent towards the end where full plot is revealed and the depths of some of the character’s personality disorders is allowed to shine. But these revelations do not provide much satisfaction as most readers will have worked them out well before, given all of the sign-posts and earlier exposition. And the characters are not interesting enough to counterbalance what is otherwise a fairly lacklustre plot.
Review - No Mortal Thing, Gerald Seymour
More powerful, more vicious than the Mafia, the Ndrangheta are reaching their tentacles of crime from Southern Italy into every country of Europe. Classic Seymour.
Two young men -Jago and Marcantonio - both studying business and finance: Jago is a kid from a rough part of London who has worked hard to get a job in a bank and is now on a fast-track secondment to the Berlin office.
The mafia is a fertile subject matter for a political thriller. In No Mortal Thing, Gerald Seymour looks at the issue of the mafia and their power, both locally and internationally from a range of points of view. Into this mix he throws a complete outsider. This characters acts not so much as proxy for the reader, as is often the case, but as a complete wild card whose actions throw the carefully plotted worlds of both a mafia family and those trying to catch them into total disarray.
Seymour puts all of the pieces in place early – the mafia patriarch who is preparing to hand over the reins of the business to his dangerous grandson Marcantonio and a long running investigation into the family by Italian authorities, including a costly surveillance, which is about to be ended for lack of evidence. Into this world comes Jago Browne, an East Ender who works in a German bank and witnesses Marcantonio extorting and then injuring a pair of Italian pizza parlour owners in a German street. When the local police refuse to interfere, Jago decides that he is going to do something about it and follows Marcantonio to Italy in the hope of exacting some form of revenge. When they learn of this, both British and German police send representatives to Italy to stop find Browne and they too become embroiled in the drama.
Gerald Seymour is a grand old man of political thrillers. After covering key events as a journalist in the late 60s and early 70s he turned his hand to fiction and has penned over twenty five thrillers ranging across Europe and the Middle East. Seymour knows plenty about the mafia and how it works and the issues faced by those who investigate organized crime, not only in Italy but on the receiving end in other parts of Europe. And he is worried. As one of his police characters notes: “We put all the money towards anti-terrorism now, but the real threat to our society is the corruption and criminality of the gangs.”
But despite all of the elements of what should have been a gripping read, No Mortal Thing fails to thrill. There is too much telling rather than showing. The plot should be gripping but moves too slowly, constantly shifting point of view to ensure that every character’s opinion of every event is dissected. The large cast of characters leaves little room for development and many are used merely to illustrate a particular issue or progress the plot. Jago Browne himself is almost a complete cipher, many of his actions make little sense and he tends to act more as a plot device than as a living, breathing person. And the final twist involving Jago is, in the context of what has gone on before, completely bewildering.
All of this makes No Mortal Thing an interesting but by no means engaging read. While the plot drivers are established early they take too long to come together. And while there are some surprises along the way, they are not enough to lift this tale beyond the ordinary.
Review - Dark Murder, Helen H. Durrant
A woman is found dead by a canal . . . why have her eyes have been viciously poked out?
Detective Stephen Greco has just started a new job at Oldston CID and now he faces a series of murders with seemingly no connection but the brutal disfigurement of the victims. Greco’s team is falling apart under the pressure and he doesn't know who he can trust. Then they discover a link to a local drug dealer, but maybe it’s not all that it seems.
Can Greco get control of his chaotic team and stop the murders?
DARK MURDER is the first book in a new series built around the character D.I. Stephen Greco. Greco first appeared as supporting cast in an earlier series of books by Helen H. Durrant, but now he's mirrored his ex-wife's move to a new town after their divorce, wanting to continue a good relationship with his young daughter Matilda. His new job at Oldston CID starts off with a series of baffling murders, where the brutal disfigurement of the victims seems to be the only connection. Greco instantly has a number of problems when it comes to solving these cases - the lack of a clear motive or connection, and his own team. Made up of what seems to be the district misfits he's under no illusions that part of his new responsibility is to meld this group of detectives together. Or some of them may just find themselves without a job in the future. Not really knowing who he is dealing with on the side of the good or the bad isn't helped by his own particular quirks - including is a mild dose of OCD which he tries desperately hard to hide.
DARK MURDER has a lot of heavy lifting to do as it launches this new series. Introducing Greco, the complications of his personal life, and his personality traits and OCD is quite a lot to start off with. Start adding colleagues with child care problems, drinking, gambling and complete de-motivation as well as problems getting along with other team members, and you get a lot of background to build, establish and provide reader's a way to connect with along the way. Add to that setting up a fictional location, and building a community within that and there's an awful lot of balls in the air. Perhaps that's why it might be obvious that not all good people are perfect, and not all bad irretrievably evil, but it was hard to tell if Greco is intended to be a likeable character who didn't quite hit all his marks or somebody a little more edgy, tricky if you like.
The plot's got some very strong aspects to it, although some of those are let down a little by a tendency to over-explain and a lot of repetition which sucked the pace out at important points. It's obviously not supposed to be that difficult to pick a lot of the who and why in the lead-up to the conclusion, and that could be why the ending seemed somewhat deflated, lacking much in the way of climax or urgency. The concentration instead seems to be very much on setting up the cast and getting them into their location.
DARK MURDER is the first book by Helen H. Durrant that I've been able to read, and whilst there were some quibbles with this outing, some of the drawbacks make sense in terms of that heavy lifting of setting up for an ongoing series. Certainly it's a series this reader would be interested in following - especially if the central character turns out to be a tricky bloke to deal with - have a bit of a weakness for those prickly, difficult types.