The Redline, Adrian Hyland

A book that was pitch perfect for over the festive season reading. Set in the fictional location of the Windmark Ranges (not too hard to figure out the basis for them though), it's Christmas, and the drunks, troublemakers and idiots are out in force. Nothing unusual then, until the death of Sergeant Jesse Redpath's much admired and loved colleague up on the road known as the Redline, dealing on his own, with yet more idiots hooning about the place.

The death of that lone cop though isn't as straightforward as it seems, and the more Redpath digs, the more unexplained deaths and disappearances in the past come to light, all while the current day body count steadily rises. On face value, at the heart of this story there is the local legend of a young man / boy living wild in the hills - known as Anarchy by the locals - who is part myth, part forest creature. It's all just a bit too weird and unlikely for the pragmatic and very level headed Redpath, who, as is her way, throws herself into this investigation regardless of what gets chucked in her path. Reckless at times, she cares, and she's determined, and more than a bit fearless. And she's perfectly suited to the world in which she operates - that of a rural cop working alone because of staffing shortages, in wild ranges and heavy bushland with goodness knows who or what lurking just out of sight, and all sorts of myths, legends and whispered tales. 

The thing with any of Hyland's novels is that there are always many many layers, some of which are plain to see, some of which might require a bit of digging. The mystical elements in this - a young wild boy, a series of unexplained disappearances, all that sort of stuff is often part of bush mythology, going way back. As is the idea that the things that go bump in the night in the middle of nowhere could be anything from a tree falling that nobody heard to one being dropped on somebody's head very much on purpose. There's also a myriad of ways in which things can be hidden, and a lot of people desperate to take whatever they can from the natural world to hell with anybody and everybody else. Once you get past the face value of a convenient wild child to blame for everything, there's something odd going on out there - much more sinister than a blonde apparition that can run like the wind and climb trees like a goanna. It's almost like you want to scream at Redpath follow the money woman, there's always somebody with their face in the trough, if you look hard enough (or stumble across them in a remote clearing in the bush), and they always deserve a second and a third look. Once you've waded through the mullock heaps of distraction, disturbance and weird immediately in front of you.

All of Hyland's crime novels are character driven, with an intricate plot and visceral sense of place. Hyland is one of those writers who can take you into the psyche and atmosphere of a setting, making the location as much the attraction of the novels, as is the central character Jesse Redpath who is dedicated, determined, super human in her ability to endure physical pain and more than a bit daft as a brush on occasions. 

This third novel in the series is slightly darker than the earlier two, the violence is ramped up, and the inclusion of some seriously weird, and nasty goings on is often confrontational, as it should be. We're living in increasingly dark days, where greed and manipulation are rife - and that is as rampant in the bush as it is everywhere else.