Police Procedural

It was rather pleasing to see DUBLIN DEAD, mostly because O'Donovan's first book, The Priest, actually managed to get me to rethink my "over serial killer" books stance.  So no pressure on this one... at all.

There is some reference back to The Priest in DUBLIN DEAD, which is unavoidable really given that both books feature journalist Siobhan Fallon and policeman DI Mike Mulcahy.  If you've not read the earlier book, that shouldn't put you off completely, as there is some recapping of what happened, particularly to Siobhan.  Whilst it should be enough to allow new readers to not get lost, and returning readers to avoid rehashing old events, the scope of the tentative friendship / attraction between Fallon and Mulcahy could be a little less clear.  That's probably the only flaw in the rationale of the book - whilst it's not unknown for journalists and policemen to co-operate for expediency's sake, the level of connection between these two could be confusing without knowing how the working relationship got started.

What is substantially different in DUBLIN DEAD is the nature of this plot - which is multi-threaded and based around gangsters, drug dealing, an inexplicable suicide, an armed hitman and a missing woman.  Obviously in this sort of book, you'd be perfectly entitled to assume that these threads are going to end up somehow connected, but even allowing for that expectation I must admit I did not see how or where O'Donovan was going to be able to do that.  Especially as the book does take a while to get going, so a lot needed to happen in a hurry to tie off the events.  The earlier part of the book is spent teasing out the various connections, Fallon and Mulcahy both coming to the centre from a range of different threads.  As in the first book, there is another Spanish / Irish connection ... this time because an Irish gangster dies in Spain, at the same time that Irish police are looking into a massive drugs haul on a yacht off the coast of Cork.  There's obviously something in these connections that the author likes, or maybe it's more common in Ireland and Spain than we know about in this corner of the world!

One of the most interesting aspects of DUBLIN DEAD for me anyway, was the comparisons with the earlier book.  The switch from the enclosed, creepy serial killer storyline to drugs, gangsters, hitmen and violent murder gave the author a nicely complicated plot to pull together.  Compared to that very personal feeling of threat of the earlier storyline, DUBLIN DEAD had a wider scope, a greater capacity for a true thriller style chase, and somehow a threat that seemed less personal and more professional, a hitman, after all, just doing a job.  That change in focus also meant that there seems to have been a subtle change in the author's viewpoint.  The two main characters - Fallon and Mulcahy are under pressure undoubtedly, but somehow because the threat was more professional (measured / deliberate) which seemed less personal (unpredictable / mad / off kilter), it seems that there was an opportunity for a bit more exploration of personal vulnerability and frailty.  

I remember thinking after The Priest that these two could make a very interesting duo into the future, and DUBLIN DEAD is still encouraging that feeling.  Whilst I really enjoyed the first book, I found DUBLIN DEAD to be even better, so now I'm hoping for not just a third book, but a fourth and maybe more in the Fallon and Mulcahy series.

Confession up front - I don't read these books for their plots, their scenarios or even in an attempt to find the flaws in the procedural elements.  I read them because I love Frost, Mullet, George Toolan, Ernie Trigg and the ever changing assortment of DS's that come and go in Frost's world.  I love Denton, (wouldn't want to live there - the constant crime waves would do your head in after a while), but really, the point of the Frost books for me, at least, is more about time with old friends than it is necessarily about strong police procedurals.  

I guess I should also admit that it's now pretty well impossible to read a Frost book without seeing and hearing David Jason in the title role from the TV series, which is possibly also why I don't see some personality characteristics that other readers often comment on.  I "see" the dialogue with a twinkle in the eye, with a strong coating of irony or self-deprecation.  I hear a quintessentially tongue in cheek bit of a rogue policeman with a way of needling away at a case until it gets solved.  Regardless of the resourcing problems, regardless of how much he annoys the upper echelons, and how many favours he calls in from his colleagues.

I realise there is a distinct possibility that this could be seen as very odd, as often the cases are violent, and there is always a lot of simultaneous crime going on in these books, but I really do find the Frost series increasingly a bit of a comfort read.  Not just because Frost is a copper who keeps going until everything's solved, not just because he's a copper who you'd trust to do the right thing, but also because there's something wonderfully English, something very realistic about the way that the cases are portrayed, the juggling that goes on everyday in an under-resourced, overworked and extremely human police force. 

Detective Sam Shephard is back, promoted (no longer a Detective Constable), working in the same squad as boyfriend Paul and still in head on confrontation with the boss, and slightly off centre confrontation with her mother.  Which is particularly difficult as in BOUND Sam's much loved father is dying, just as the case of a brutal home invasion takes most of Sam's attention and energy.

There are some absolute givens in the Sam Shephard series.  There's going to be an opening to the book which should have the reader paying attention.  Sam is going to be part energiser bunny, part her own worst critic. Whilst the focus of the books remains on Sam, as the narrator of the action, there's always a good supporting cast, and there's invariably an unusual and somehow quintessentially small town plot.  In this case, after a violent home invasion in which a man is shot dead in front of his wife, Sam is initially given the job of liaison with and supporting the wife, who was injured in the attack.  It's a difficult enough job for somebody who has the sort of mind that doesn't rest and isn't particularly comfortable dealing with raw and very exposed grief and personal retribution - particularly as the couple's teenage son arrived home to find the carnage inflicted on his family.

The complication in this book is that all the while that Sam is working this case, which is, after all a family being forced apart, she has her own family problems with her father succumbing rapidly to cancer.  Sam's own relationship with her mother has always been complicated, but the rawness of the grief and suffering of her father makes that relationship even more a minefield, and it's clear that Sam's increasing desire to get more and more into the details of the home invasion case are partially as a way of avoiding the constant confrontation.  There's also more turmoil in Sam's personal life that she has to deal with.

Sam is undoubtedly one of my favourite fictional characters.  I really like the way that her internal dialogue runs, I like the way she is her most strident critic, and I love the way she's always prepared to leap in where wiser heads might prefer not to tread.  I really really liked the way that in BOUND she finally stands up to her bullying boss, I thought the way that she tiptoed around her relationship difficulties with her mother was beautifully done.

BOUND is, however, probably not my favourite book of this series, and it took me quite a while to work out why.  I suspect it's a combination of a few things.  Firstly, this time there was a considerably more predictable plot and an extremely predictable personal complication.  To be fair though, the who and the why of the plot weren't that hard to pick, so having the how of the various threads less obvious did compensate.  Secondly, a decidedly lesser showing of Sam's wonderful housemate and voice of reason Maggie didn't help, undoubtedly because she's such a great character but mostly because she works very well as a foil for Sam's more angst-ridden internal monologues.  Finally it's also that the mostly personal twists at the end of the book again weren't that hard to pick, and in one case, there was a sort of coyness that seemed a step too far for Sam's personality type.

All of this simply means that out of the entire Sam Shephard series, BOUND wasn't my absolute favourite book.  They are, however, one of my all time favourite series, so despite promises to myself that I'd be hoarding this book until the next was on the way (I believe Symons is working on a stand-alone next up), I've now read it and I'm back in that desperately sad situation of waiting impatiently for the next book.  Things could get really desperate .... may have to re-read the series from scratch!

The second in the Alex Morrow series, THE END OF THE WASP SEASON is a book that it would actually be possible to read before the earlier.  The opening chapters of the book introduces the reader to the three women at the centre of this story - DS Alex Morrow, Kay Murray who worked for Sarah Erroll and Sarah herself, 24 years old, murdered in a house that she rarely used.

Somehow, however, the focus of the book seems to be Lars Anderson, millionaire banker, disgraced financier, suicide hanging himself from a tree in the garden of his house.  Father in a family that's about as dysfunctional as it can possibly get, his son returns from school to a family falling apart, not necessarily just because of his father's suicide, somehow the man's life seems to have had a more profound affect on a son, wife, daughter and mistress.

Needless to say this is an intricate tale weaving together a tangle of lies, deceit, damage, power, influence and moral ambiguity.  Mina is renowned for her ability to create a well-drawn, complex and memorable cast of characters - from the main protagonist through to many of the lesser cast members.  There's no sign of that ability flagging in THE END OF WASP SEASON.  The other element that I've come to expect, particularly following on from the first Alex Morrow book, is a sense of restraint, contemplation, almost a reluctance to get into the evil that human beings can do.  That's enhanced by the fragility of so many of Mina's characters.  From Kay Murray, childhood friend of Alex's, Kay is a battler.  She's not had an easy life, and somehow the tension of her embarrassment at her circumstances viewed by Morrow; her reaction when one of her children is briefly a suspect for the killing of Sarah; her pride and her vulnerability were beautifully executed. As was the character of Thomas, son of Lars, a young man pulled from school to confront the reality of his father's legacy, and the implosion of his family and everything that he thought life was supposed to be.  Even down to the surreal experience of he and his mother discovering freezers of food, and working out how to actually prepare a meal - Thomas grows up in front of the reader's eyes, and there's something really quite sad about the way that has to happen.

The restraint of the storytelling in THE END OF WASP SEASON is the thing that really stays with me since I've finished the book.  There was also something there - perhaps something about the way that sex and sexual politics started to play such a big part in the potential resolution, stacked up against Morrow's mostly male colleagues seeming disregard for this particular murder that could very well have been telegraphing something pointed.  It could also be that I'm reading in something that wasn't ever supposed to be there, but there did just seem to be a little tale of attitude being told here, purposely underplayed, purposely observational and not conversational.

It is, however, not a book that's necessarily devoted to solving the crime.  That aspect of the plot, whilst investigated by Morrow, is somehow less important than the why, and the way that circles of influence emanate from the rich and powerful.  Perhaps it's a plot for a post GFC world?  The way that the ripples of one person's life choices, and influence based simply on their wealth and ruthless use of the power that money can bring, can have repercussions in the most unexpected places.  

The problem with picking up any book by Denise Mina is that she has hit so many heights with those that have come earlier, that somehow, sub-consciously there's always an expectation that perhaps this book could be the one that's not quite as good.  For this reader, this wasn't that book.  Denise Mina continues to write engaging, thought-provoking and always interesting stories.

"An investigation consists of a mass of voices, the sort you can hear, and the sort you can't.  You have to listen to the soundless voices, Malin.  That's where the truth is hidden."

The quote at the start of the blurb of MIDWINTER SACRIFICE intrigued.  The opening of the book with the naked, mutilated body of a man hanging from a tree in a frozen, snow covered location was startling.  A new detective character, Malin Fors, single mother of a teenage daughter engaging.  But ultimately it was the concept of the "voices" of an investigation that weave their way through this book, that delivered an unusual, compelling perspective.

Slow moving, immersion reading in the very best tradition of Scandinavian styled mysteries, this book has an additional aspect in that it's narrated by voices, including the victim himself, whose voice pleads, cajoles and guides Malin (not that she can hear him!).  But the point is well made.  The victim in a case has a voice.  Obviously, an investigator rarely hears the victim of a murder, but their life, as well as their death, can "speak" to the investigating team if they are prepared to listen.

Alongside the use of the voices, there's a solid police procedural moving through this book - from the difficulties of identifying the victim, to the explanation of why they would become a victim of such a violent crime.  To the past that informs the present.  But we are talking dark, intricate, reserved, thoughtful and sinister.  We're talking cold and atmospheric - partially because of the weather, partially because of the characters who inhabit the story.  

We're also talking a good central character - investigator Malin Fors has a complicated personal life, a strange history with her ex-husband, and a realistic relationship with her teenage daughter.  There's enough of the personal elements (good and bad) of her life built into the story to give a sense of the balancing act that a major investigation has to become.  Perhaps some of her work colleagues are less strongly drawn - although to be honest I didn't think that was an obvious problem or even inexplicable.

Undoubtedly MIDWINTER SACRIFICE is one of those books that you have to sink into, allow it to spin out the story, go with the voices and deal with the reserve.  Fans of that particularly thoughtful, considered, reserved, Scandinavian style will definitely find something in this book.  Personally I found the idea of the voices within an investigation fascinating and the book particularly difficult to put down.  There's real balance and believability about Fors, her family, her private and professional struggle, but at the same time, there's a sense of the victim here that gives the book a different dimension - a connection with the normally voiceless.

It's very pleasing to read that his "first book" in the Malin Fors series went straight into the bestseller charts.  Sounds like there are more around to look forward to.

For those reading the Inspector Singh Investigates series in order, THE SINGAPORE SCHOOL OF VILLAINY is the third book.  Given these are a series, is it necessary to read them in order?  Whilst there's always something gained when reading books in the order that the author wrote them, this is a case where I'm not sure you need to be too obsessive about it.  Of course, from the start you'll get to know the good Inspector a little more, but to be honest, there's not a lot of expansion of character going on here.  It's obvious that Singh's constantly in trouble with his superiors, that he's a lone operator (think less lone wolf and more determined fox), that his wife doesn't understand him, that his methods are slightly unorthodox and that he's a "bit of a character".

What may help a little is to realise that Singh moves around quite a bit (the first book is set in Malaysia, the second in Bali) but in this book he's at home in Singapore.  Which nobody, not his bosses, not his wife, not even Singh are particularly best pleased about.  What may also help is to realise that despite Singh sounding suspiciously like an Asian Poirot wannabe, and the covers of the book seeming to signal something slightly on the cosier side of crime fiction, well... (sorry can't avoid the pun) you should never judge a book by its cover (or an Inspector by his description).  You can, however rely on the suggestion that there's a sly sense of humour behind these books... something that is even more apparent if you're ever lucky enough to come across the author herself, who took to writing after a career in the law, but really could have been just as successful as a stand up comedian.

The Inspector Singh series tackles difficult themes, in different places, but with a tone and style that veers away from too much confrontation.  Definitely not cosy, but equally not overly dark, Flint takes the reader into some tricky territory on occasions, using her Inspector Singh character as a foil for the worst excesses of humanity.  A detective from the "ask a few awkward questions, appear at the worst time in the suspect's life" school of detecting, Singh's physique isn't going to allow him to do a lot of rushing around, and his personality doesn't fit that bill either.  In THE SINGAPORE SCHOOL OF VILLAINY he's even more grumpy and more difficult, seemingly going out of his way to agitate everyone around him, whilst blithely believing that they are, in turn, out to annoy him every step of the way.  

Part of the trick in enjoying these books is really all about setting your expectations correctly.  If you are a huge fan of the very cosy; of mannered, polite and very English detecting, then Inspector Singh is probably not going to be totally to your taste.  I also don't always come away from the books with an overwhelmingly strong sense of the individual places.  But I do find myself warming to Inspector Singh.  If you're a fan of slightly more edgy than just entertaining books, centred around a central character who's a little bit grumpy, a little bit rumpled, a little bit hot and bothered, more than a bit tricky, and more than occasionally a big bit slyly funny, then this could be the series for you. 

Okay, so I'm a more than a bit of a fan of Caro Ramsay for a lot of reasons.  DARK WATER is her third book, featuring a number of ongoing characters, but somehow there's not quite a feeling of a series about these.  If you've not read ABSOLUTION, the first book, that will probably sound a bit odd - but let's just say at the end of that book something I've always thought of as quite brave from an author happens.  The second book SINGING TO THE DEAD has to move on as a result, and again here, we've got a slight switch in the pairings, the characters and the goings on in this book.

We are talking Tartan Noir here - so there is the obligatory setting of dense fog, cold and a series of violent deaths that seem to have all the markings of a serial killer.  There's also a former beauty queen, her mentally ill sister, a rather attractive photographer and his well dodgy assistant and a healthy sprinkling of odd types hanging around the edges.  Adding to the obligatory list is the team being stuffed around by their bosses and all, some romantic tension in the ranks, a rookie who is prepared ot push the boundaries and the required tension within any well functioning police team.

Sounds all very predictable doesn't it.  Luckily in Ramsay's hands there's an edge, a certain something that makes the basic elements of a Tartan Noir police procedural just that little bit better than you'd think.  When I say I'm a bit of a fan - I'm talking a very very big bit.

DEATH OF THE MANTIS is the third book in the Detective David 'Kubu' Bengu series from writing duo Stanley Trollip and Michael Sears, under the pen name of Michael Stanley.  (For those that haven't read this series 'Kubu' means hippopotamus which is a commentary on Bengu's size.)  I remember, before this book was completed, the authors explaining the life and plight of the Bushman, a race of people who come from the Kalahari Desert, who traditionally live a nomadic, simple existence with their own sacred places, rituals and beliefs - not unlike our own Aboriginal races lifestyle and plight.  This aspect was part of the reason I've been greatly looking forward to this book, and I was not at all disappointed.  The glimpse into Bushman culture was fascinating, and the other aspects of this series - the humour, the personalities, the mystery were solid.

Bengu and Khumanego were unlikely friends at school just taking their comparative physical attributes into account, but their friendship was based on their joint status as outsiders.  Khumanego calls on Bengu after many years of no contact to seek his help when two Bushman hunters are arrested for the murder of a park ranger - an anathema to basic Bushman belief on the sanctity of all life.  Meanwhile tribal elder Gobiwasi is revisiting the memories and places of his youth - preparing for his own death in the time-honoured tradition of Bushman culture.

At home things have changed for Bengu and his much loved wife Joy - who are now parents to daughter, Tumi.  Tumi's arrival has undoubtedly caused disruption in Kubu's happy home life, and somewhat unexpectedly, Kubu seems to be a little distant, disinterested even in the turmoil his beloved Joy is feeling.  This is, perhaps, the only area of these books that may cause a little disquiet in some fans of the series - it does seem that Kubu is being just a tad old-fashioned about this child raising business - absenting himself to follow the case, perhaps not as sensitive to Joy's difficulties as you'd have expected.  Other than this slightly odd personal characteristic, Kubu is still Kubu.  Implacable, inclined towards the cerebral end of detecting, Kubu is patient, careful and painstaking.  But in DEATH OF THE MANTIS he also does something unexpected, something dangerously close to a major mistake,

As befits a continent the size of Africa, the range of crime fiction coming out there is widening, it seems, every day.  DEATH OF THE MANTIS is a police procedural, with a distinct African feeling to the action, and whilst there are plenty of deaths and mayhem they aren't extremely violent, nor could you ever say they are on the cosier side.  Perhaps the better definition is personality driven, police procedurals, with a real feeling of life in Botswana and highlighting of real, and important issues.  Hence I found the window into the life of the Bushmen most rewarding.  The similarities between much of their culture and our own local Aboriginal cultures was enlightening, and it was saddening to see the same sorts of insensibility and disregard in the other cultures of both countries.  

Delivered with a touch of gentle wit and a personality that seems to fit perfectly in a hippopotamus of a man, Bengu feels intrinsically part of the landscape.  The crimes that the authors work into their books come from that landscape, as do the investigations and the solutions.  Botswana is as much a part of these stories, as is Bengu's family, his friends, colleagues and in the case of DEATH OF THE MANTIS the Bushmen, the victim's, and the motivation for these crimes which all seem to just be perfectly of the place that they come from.  It will be interesting to see how fans of the series react to this book, but it would be even better to see new readers immerse themselves in Bengu's Botswana.

(All the books come with a glossary and a pronunciation guide for readers who like to know the details of what they are reading about).

CONTAINMENT is the third in the Sam Shephard series from New Zealand writer Vanda Symon.  It's rapidly stepped up to be one of my all time favourite series for a whole bunch of reasons.

Firstly these are truly humorous books.  Subtly, ever so slightly tongue in cheek, the humour is both self-deprecating and tension alleviating.  My favourite sort.  Sam's voice is particularly appealing - as she busily beats herself up mentally, leaving the physical assault to the scavengers on the beach in the case of CONTAINMENT.  As mentioned in earlier reviews - because the books are told from Sam's point of view, her self-deprecation and self-analysis is part of what alleviates any sense of myopia or self-servitude that can sometimes occur with that viewpoint.

Secondly they are solid, believable, twisty and nicely complex plots.  They are particularly believable and realistic in the setting in which the action takes place.  Symon's small town or country New Zealand is a place where the crimes, the perpetrators, the cops and the victims all fit perfectly.  Often the action starts out small-time and stays that way, in other cases things escalate rapidly, frequently slightly out of control and mostly inexplicably until everything just explodes around the cops and perpetrators ears!   

Lastly, but not least of all, there are great characters in these books.  The stand out is obviously Sam Shephard herself.  The country cop who has moved to the bigger city, but not lost that practical, self-deprecating, country sensibility.  Her awareness (and willingness to beat herself up) for her shortcomings, her understanding and forgiveness and care for those who surround her is .. here's those words again .. realistic and believable.  Sam is definitely the sort of cop that you can well imagine running into at a crime scene, at the pub, in a hospital bed.  Because she is a little accident prone.  Mostly because of enthusiasm and concern for the job, partially because of a stubborn refusal to think things through totally, Sam spends more than a bit of time in her own physical or mental wars.  Just to add to the mix, the course of true love gets smacked around the head pretty regularly by Sam, and the bosom of her loving family has it's own twists and turns.

Whilst Sam is definitely the star of her own show in these books, the supporting cast isn't one dimensional or off-camera.  Her interactions with the other cops in her team, her boss, her parents, cop boyfriend and best friend Maggie are very good.  Particularly her relationship with friend, flatmate and voice of reason Maggie.  It's actually a fantastic element of these books - to have a strong, supportive and brutally honest relationship between two women drawn so clearly is a relatively rare occurrence, and it's done extremely well in these books - although Maggie is possibly slightly less present in CONTAINMENT than I recall her in the earlier books.

For all the gushing of this review, these books aren't just light-hearted entertainment.  There are often elements in the plots which are unexpected, unpleasant even - characters that are expendable, deaths that are confrontational or emotional.  The light-hearted touch of Symon doesn't conceal the reality of criminal activity, murder or mayhem.  It just makes the lesson slightly more palatable.