Private Detective

Two novellas, connected by PI Jack Munro, COORPAROO BLUES and THE IRISH FANDANGO are an interesting historical hard-boiled combination of PI, mean streets, fallen women, drinking and the whole nine yards.

The first story, COORPAROO BLUES, introduces Jack, war veteran, ex-cop, nose for trouble, attractor of a simply staggering number of women, PI that you turn to when things are going to get nasty.

The second story, set a few months later, sees the US troop angle switched for political refugees and Communists around every corner, and a suicide that isn't.

So we're not exactly talking scenarios and a counter-hero of a type that we've not seen before. Albeit that Munro comes with a hefty dose of Australian colloquial language (so much so that they've included a glossary at the back of the book for those less used to the way that the common language can divide). He's also walking the seamier side of Brisbane at a period in history that not a lot of dark and noir current day fiction addresses. And it's done very well - the setting feels authentic, right down to the sense of heat and grime that comes with a Brisbane summer. We're also talking, mercifully a couple of intricate plots that were clever and well formed and resolved in two such short novellas.

The thing with this sort of crime fiction is always that there's a sense that attitudes of the time must be clear cut, all women are either whores or saints, all men gangsters or heroes. Even though Munro is a fair bit more nuanced than like hero's of the type, he is, a good bloke to have on your side in a tight spot and a man seemingly irresistible to any female within range. Definitely one for fans of noir, particularly as it's been a long time since Australia's mean streets have been explored in this way.

On page 2 of this book I kind of got the feeling that we'd be destined to get on very well....

"He's got more prior convictions than brain cells which means he won't get bail, so he's wallowing in the Metropolitan Remand Centre at Ravenhall, trying to find a lawyer who'll argue that society is to blame."

The sort of dry sense of humour that works for this reader at least.

Subtitled a detective's story in ten cases, this is the tale of the life and times of John Dorn. Private Inquiry Agent because that's what his father called himself, he's not quite the same as his father. Yet. He doesn't drink, lots. Yet. (His father drank himself to death). He doesn't have a wife to leave him (like his mother left his father), but he does have an ex-fiancee that he longs for. Where he does share his father's characteristics 100%, is that his business is heading in roughly the same direction... out the back door in a hurry.

Part of the reason for the lack of business success is undoubtedly that John Dorn's a decent bloke, who takes cases that nobody else would touch, that make very little money in the process, even though his friend, and very successful Defence Barrister throws him some help whenever he can.

Each of these 10 cases, 10 individual stories, follow a similar trail - backwards and forwards from the end to the past, from the current day to what got him here. Each of them is beautifully written, wonderfully evocative, dry and sad and funny all at the same time.

The jaded PI can be horribly clichéd, but in the hands of this author, there's something glorious about him. Possibly it's because Dorn himself, in a lovely twist, is acutely aware that he's a bit of a cliché. Perhaps it's because his jaded is what he's supposed to be (suffering for your art and all that). Of course he's also profoundly flawed, not in a dodgy way, but strangely as a form of self-preservation.

Whatever twists and turns, and leaps and bounds John Dorn takes, however, the book is deliciously readable and extremely well done.

Follow up to PROMISE, DEAD GIRL SING again takes Richards out into the field, away from his retirement, all in the defence of somebody he feels he owes.

Triggered by a phone call from Ida, a girl he never expected to hear from again (even though he left that phone on / charged / ready), Richards is suddenly not just responsible for the life of a missing girl, but also a dead cop and two dead girls. Somehow in the middle of the notorious schoolies week on the Gold Coast, in the middle of that seething mass of hormones, alcohol and crazy that descends every year, Richards alone gets a bit of a sniff of something twisted and very determined. Somehow young women are quietly disappearing and nobody else seems to be connecting the neon-lit dots quite like Richards does.

As in PROMISE, DEAD GIRL SING has, at its core, a descent into the creepy, crazy, lunatic side of mayhem. In this case, whilst somebody is quietly disappearing young women up and down the Gold Coast, there's also that dawning idea that perhaps murder may not be the absolute worst fate that can befall. Without giving away anything of the plot, there's a slow reveal of the perpetrator here that's probably not going to come as a huge surprise (there's a bit of build up that kind of hints where we are going), there's a series of disappearances, and one young woman in particular that Richards is tracking with help from his mysterious high-tech Melbourne hacker mate.

There is so very very much in this series that you'd think I'd hate. More mad, bad protagonists, although in DEAD GIRL SING we at least have some reasons and explanation. There's all the high-tech wizardry which normally has me grinding my teeth in exasperation, and yet, in this case, the idea of Isosceles, sitting in his high-rise Melbourne tower, tracking, watching, following actually isn't that hard to believe, and is rather endearing and familiar.

But this is not a series I hate. Quite the opposite as it turns out. Despite all the things that grate just a little, I really like the Darian Richards books. Maybe it's the no-nonsense, matter-of-fact, pragmatic Richards - a lone wolf with a skewed moral compass and a form of ethics that he sticks with. Come hell or high water. Isosceles with his encyclopaedic knowledge of minutia (or a fast track on Wikipedia searches). Maria, the cop sidekick who doesn't want to be. Constantly drawn into Richard's orbit she's drawn between being a good cop and the fact that Richards get's his killers. One way or another.

Neither of these books is without flaws, but then this isn't a super-hero good guy without flaws either. Neither of these books are straightforward or comfortable reading. But they are strong, have a great sense of personality and a quintessential "Australian-ness" about the observations, dialogue and behaviour. DEAD GIRL SING is a strong second book with improvements over and above the first one. It's a series that I'd be really happy to see continue.

One glance at the blurb for this book will give you a pretty good feel for the style. Yep, another comedic female private detective crashing through life in a manner that can make a reader cry with laughter, or stick their hands up in the air begging for a good old fashioned police procedural with a central female character with a serious drinking problem, an attitude and maybe a bad case of BO. Anything from the other end of the expectation spectrum anyway.

The difficulty with this sort of humorous crime fiction scenario is that humour is a profoundly subjective thing - more so than just about any other styling I can think of. It helps, of course, if the humour is combined with a good plot and a lot more to the central character than just that "lovable idiot" thing.

THE FIRST SHOT does show some glimpses of promise (and there are now further books in the series). Jennifer feels like she might not just be the same girl doing the same things, over and over and over again and there is a bit of a plot buried in the book, although it does stretch believability to breaking point at times. The humour is pretty heavy-handed and whilst it does toe the stereotypical line for these sort of girly, madcap rompy sorts of books, there were some parts that worked. Especially those aspects that had a personal touch to them, and were part of the set up of the character Jennifer for readers to get to know.

I understand why it is that people are writing these sorts of books, but goodness knows there are an awful lot of them around. Hopefully at some stage something sticks it's head above the crowd, particularly something that's quintessentially Australian, without being cloying or too cute about it all. THE FIRST SHOT is not exactly climbing to the top of that pile, but, it is a reasonable attempt, and could garner a readership who like their crime on the softer, sillier, funny side.

Being a bit of a sucker for a strong sense of place, and culture I was intrigued by the Makana series, and lucky enough to get the second book - DOGSTAR RISING for review. But this seemed to me to be a series that should begin at the very beginning, so I shouted myself the first book, THE GOLDEN SCALES.

In terms of sense of place, and the society in which the book is set, it was extremely well done. The ancient city of Cairo is not just the backdrop for the story, it inhabits the action. There's a physical feeling of the souks, and alleys, the dark corners in which the unknown lurks. Part fascinating and compelling, part frightening and threatening, THE GOLDEN SCALES paints Cairo as a place in which people could disappear. Some willingly, some not. It also paints Cairo as a place that provides some refuge for Makana, a former Sudanese policeman, who lives physically and emotionally on the outskirts of the society to which he fled when things in his homeland got very dangerous.

That idea of Makana, a refugee from violence, ex-policeman now living and working on the fringes, as the person that one of the most powerful, wealthy and dodgy men in Cairo would turn to when a player from his team goes missing sort of makes sense, just as the fact that the missing player is treated as a son of Saad Hanafi, gangster, developer, father, and man with a very chequered past, means that the choice of investigator doesn't make sense. There's obviously a reason buried deep in the mire of those who work for and against Hanafi, and somewhere in the middle of a corrupt and compromised political and policing system. In the middle of all of this an Englishwoman returns to Cairo, still searching for the daughter that has been missing now for many years.

Needless to say this is a complex plot, with Makana at the centre of the swirling current day events, dealing with his own past and an overriding sense of loss and guilt that he battles on a daily basis. His personal story is slowly revealed as is the truth about a missing Football Player who is more than he seems, an ageing Gangster who is both more and less than he seems, a daughter with secrets, and close colleagues of all who aren't as straightforward as they seem.

THE GOLDEN SCALES is a beautiful balancing act. The bleakness of the place, the society, the state of the world in which Makana operates is matched sometimes by the bleakness of his mood, and lightened frequently by a dry, acerbic observational wit which is quiet, subdued and often cutting. A thriller set in an Islamic world, the story touches on the volatility of power, religion, influence and corruption with restraint, intelligence and expertise.

What really works in THE GOLDEN SCALES is the balance between plot, character, events and place. The plot is persuasive and believable, incorporating the reality of current day scenarios where conflicts cause personal disruption and refugees who must find a way in a new world, whilst dealing with the demons from their past. The characters are compelling, human, brave, damaged, thoughtful, introspective, forceful, good, bad and the whole thing. One of the particular aspects of the characterisations that I appreciated was the idea that everyone, both the good and the bad, was nuanced. Everyone has their good and bad sides, and you could see the reasons why they took the path that they chose. The events and the place are inextricably linked, although the sense of place was all pervading. Needless to say, THE GOLDEN SCALES bodes very well for anyone who wants their thriller / crime fiction layered, thoughtful, instructive and clever, whilst not letting up on the thrills and chills.