Australia

Apocalyptic scenarios are not my favourite thing.  To be frank, a pandemic world-wide threat from a mutant viruses wasn't making me feel a desperate urge to read RED QUEEN.  I've been shuffling other books over it in the priority queue for quite a while.  But eventually, you've just got to stop sooking about these things and get on with reading.  

There was some confusion in my mind about exactly what "category" this novel falls into.  It won an Aurealis award for Best Horror Novel, but I'd heard comments that indicated that the book, despite the apocalyptic setting, was more of a thriller.  To my uneducated mind, there didn't seem a lot of horror about RED QUEEN, but it certainly fits the thriller criteria.  Set in the Australian bush, brothers Shannon and Rohan are hiding out from the effects of the virus, holed up in the ultimate survivalist paradise, set up originally by their parents, both of whom have died from the very virus the brothers are trying to avoid.  They stay constantly on guard, despite which, their defences are breeched by a smart young woman who initially steals food from the cabin during the night, eventually revealing herself and asking for their help and shelter.

Once Denny arrives on the scene it's hard to avoid a sense of inevitability about the relationships.  Shannon is the more sensitive, gentle brother - and he takes on the "good cop" role very quickly.  Rohan is more mistrusting, taking the "bad cop" role with aplomb, right down to being the brother that Denny turns to for sexual gratification.  What saves that entire scenario is the clever and subtle way that the conflict between the brothers is handled.  The sexual rivalry fits into a general feeling of distrust, tension and rivalry as rules of the house are stretched, and the ever present threat from the outside world hangs heavily over all three characters.  There is also the increasing pressure of if, and how, they can remain self-sufficient with every day that passes.

There is something very atmospheric about RED QUEEN, and the writing is clever.  Whilst it's very descriptive, and extremely evocative it's also elegant, pared down, and without padding.  Still, you can feel the tension in the air, see the glowering looks and the sideways glances.  The bush and environs of the cabin come to life, even the weather feels real and very immediate.  RED QUEEN is assured storytelling, clever and extremely surprising.  Especially as it kept this reader involved despite some predictable plot lines, overt characterisations and the sort of happy-ever-after ending that always leaves me feeling decidedly queasy. 

THE DEVIL'S GARDEN was a book I picked up because the case it covers - The Claremont Serial Killings - is unfortunately still unsolved, and because I've been reading a little about a number of cases in WA recently.  It made me want to find out more about the nature of the investigation into the murders of two young women, and the disappearance of a third in 1996 and 1997.

What I discovered from this book is an inkling into the tunnel vision of the police force which appears to be consistent with the attitude displayed in another case in the same state of Australia.

I also managed to discover a little about the girls who died, the impact their deaths had on the families, and in particular the devastation felt by one family, whose daughter's has never been found - assumed dead at the hands of the same killer.

True Crime for me works best when it either lays out the facts of a case allowing the reader to come to a better understanding of the events or when, in the case of miscarriages of justice or unsolved cases, it investigates, analyses the evidence and builds a possible scenario with supporting details.

What doesn't work for me is something that I'm increasingly noticing from books from this author - gratuitous intrusion of the author into the story.  Fair enough if the author is interviewing witnesses, drawing out aspects of the case, working on an investigation on behalf of a wrongly convicted person, then observations / commentary are expected.  What's not expected, and seemed increasingly discomforting are the author's "feelings" on driving around in cars in Perth, the way that the scene where one of the poor girls was found "felt", and enough other off-pitch elements that left me with an increasing impression of grandstanding.  

Which is unfortunate, as this is a case that seems to deserve a considered, factual telling.

"Day after day my life was consumed by killings, distress and gruesome sites, each one adding another piece to an ever-growing mosaic that seemed to be made up of bloodied disposable gloves, plastic bags and human waste. . ."

I don't think there's any way that Esther McKay could describe her life as a forensic crime investigator in terms that would make it comfortable reading for anybody.  Which means it's no surprise whatsoever that this book is confrontational, difficult and frequently disturbing, just as the job must have been.

McKay has a way of telling the stories that gives the reader more than enough of a feeling for the more gruesome aspects of the crime scenes that she experienced, giving you just enough of the facts to make it obvious how horrendous that work must be, drawing out the personal affect of dealing with not just the nature of the job, but the ridiculous amounts of stress, overtime and pressure involved.

Not an easy read, and I couldn't help but hope that family members of the people caught up in the cases discussed were avoiding this book like the plague, but for the rest of us, this is a real job that somebody does.  You have to hope that education and training levels have improved, you've also got to hope that support and staffing is considerably better than it was when McKay worked in the job, but regardless it's still a dreadful job for anybody to have to do.

It's odd, the things that can occur to you when you're reading books.  In the case of SILENT FEAR I just could not stop thinking how glad I was to be a reader and not a writer.  Honestly, how do these people come up with such consistently good characters and excellent plots?  Howell makes her life that little bit more difficult by always bringing in a Paramedic thread, mostly with new characters each book, weaving what happens to them on the job into the plot of an excellent crime fiction / police procedural book.  Even allowing for a background as a paramedic, I've no idea how she consistently builds these plots, creates these characters and writes these tremendous books!

In SILENT FEAR the connection between paramedic Holly and the police investigation into the shooting death of Paul Fowler is multi-faceted.  She's one of the crew called when he collapses in a park, only to discover a bullet wound.  Another connection is her estranged brother Seth, best friend of Paul, on the scene in the park when the shooting occurred.  Things get even more complicated once her background starts to reveal, and her fiancé gets involved.

In Holly, Howell has again created a very interesting, fleshed out and realistic character.  Her story is cleverly woven into the ongoing police investigation, ensuring that the reader gets a real chance to connect with her, whilst never feeling that the book is wandering off the point.  Readers have had the earlier books in the series to really get to know Detective Ella Marconi, the lead voice in the detective group investigating Fowler's death.  Marconi does seem to be getting an easier time in SILENT FEAR than she has in the earlier books.  Aside from a bit of grief from a slimy new colleague, which she's handling, and her partner's worry and lack of communication, her ongoing relationship with her parents is considerably simpler (in this book they are cruising around New Zealand making lots of ship to shore calls to keep in touch), so everything's pretty smooth on the Marconi front.  There is, however, a great cast of supporting police - male and female - with a good, solid combination of angst and normality in the entire group, leading to more than a sneaking hope that there could be an ensemble building.

One of the things that Howell does particularly well is to balance the personal and the professional, the paramedic and the cop lines.  At no point do you feel the action wandering, or stalling, or wading around in uninteresting waters.  There's no misdirection or padding in any of these books, and markedly so in SILENT FEAR.  The story clipped along at a good pace, the author's not been afraid to cause her characters some serious angst, and it's possible for a reader to get a strong feeling of connection.  The only downside, and a very very minor one at that, seemed to be the drawing together of a couple of plot lines that didn't quite work - perhaps because it seemed to be unnecessary?  

But seriously, the only real downside to SILENT FEAR is that you're going to have to be prepared before you start.  It's flagged as "A Book You Can't Put Down", and they mean that.  Emphatically.

DEATH AND THE SPANISH LADY is the first book from Carolyn Morwood for quite a while, and that, if for no other reason was enough to create some interest in these parts.  Set in the period immediately following World War 1, in Melbourne, during the Spanish 'Flu epidemic of 1919, the book introduces Sister Eleanor Jones.  Returned from nursing soldiers overseas, she has volunteered to work in the temporary hospital that is set up within the Melbourne Exhibition Buildings to treat the huge number of patients who succumb to the epidemic.

Given the number of people dying from the 'flu it seems somewhat incongruous that the death of one man, a soldier who has a less than impressive background before or during the war, should cause a stir, but murder is murder, and Jones, working late in the evening in the convalescent ward, has seen something out of place on the night that Reddy died - as it turns out - from arsenic poisoning.  The subsequent disappearance of another recovering soldier, Jimmy Cotton seems to be an admission of guilt to the authorities, but Jones is not convinced.  Asked to look into the entire matter by the Matron of the hospital, she commences her own investigation.

DEATH AND THE SPANISH LADY does a really convincing job at drawing a picture of Melbourne in that time, during that epidemic.  The atmosphere of a city in lock-down and the hospital hastily put together within the confines of the Exhibition Building was particularly well drawn.  There is an excellent feeling for how life was lived in Melbourne in that time - the unusualness of private cars; the farming family with a farm in Dimboola and a Collins Street residence; the affect of the Great War on so many families - now left mostly female, and frequently utterly bereft at the death or injury of so many men.  

Unfortunately there are a few points at which the action drags, and you can't help feeling that the assistance of an editor would have helped Morwood create a tighter story.  Certainly the denouement was too padded, which was a pity as it was not so much of a "who did it" by that point, but the "why did it" deserved clearer and more direct focus.  Aside from the padding, Sister Eleanor Jones is a really interesting character, a female protagonist with a troubled background, a returned nurse from a war fighting her own demons as a result.  It's rather pleasing to know that DEATH AND THE SPANISH LADY is the first of a trilogy, as more books will give us all a chance to get to know her, and the Victoria that she lives in better.