A pathetic little man. A deadly killer.

The Keeper

In this, the second DC Corrigan novel, Corrigan is once more pitted against a dangerous killer. But, unlike the highly intelligent ‘cold killer’ of the first book, Thomas Keller is a pathetic little man. A sleazy, nasty little man, all the more dangerous for being inadequate. Not to mention utterly deranged. He is obsessed with a woman called ‘Sam’, someone he wants but cannot have. In an attempt to recreate her he stalks and abducts women who resemble her. At first he treats them with tenderness; this soon turns to viciousness when his captives don’t measure up to his unrealistic illusions.

On the cops’ side we have Detective Inspector Sean Corrigan, Detective Sergeant Sally Jones, Detective Sergeant Donnelly and others we met previously in ‘Cold Killing’. At the outset the case looks like a typical ‘missing persons’ incident and as such would not normally be within the remit of the murder team. However, due to Sean Corrigan’s uncanny ability to get a sense of a killer, he knows that sooner or later they will have a body on their hands. So it becomes a tense race against time.

As before, the book starts with the killer. This time we know his name from the outset. We also know he is a postman, so straight away we are ahead of the detectives. And continue to be so. Also, as before, the point of view alternates between Keller, Corrigan, Sally Jones and one of the victims, Louise Russell. This last point of view is a clever touch, which adds to the tension as the story unfolds. To say any more would be to risk a spoiler.

This linking of one book with the other is neat. However it’s only fair to warn you that the name of the killer in Cold Killing, the first book in the series, is revealed in the first chapter of The Keeper.

After we are introduced to the creepy Thomas Keller and his victim, the action moves swiftly to the Central Criminal Court, the Old Bailey. Here the trial that is taking place is that of the villain of the first novel. The final verdict ‘unfit to plead’ sees the perpetrator ordered to be detained in a secure psychiatric unit. Thus robbing the police of the satisfaction of a trial and conviction. And inflicting further psychological damage on Sally Jones, in particular.

This linking of one book with the other is neat. However it’s only fair to warn you that the name of the killer in Cold Killing, the first book in the series, is revealed in the first chapter of The Keeper. So if you haven’t read the first book but intend to read it, don’t start with this one as it will ruin all the tension and twists and turns of Cold Killing. I think this should be pointed out to prospective readers by the publishers.

One of the things that set Luke Delaney apart from many other crime writers is the fact that he is an ex-Murder Squad detective. Consequently the settings are authentic, rather than researched. Throughout the book, fascinating insights take us into the real world of the police, warts and all. Among these, DI Corrigan’s views on the transfer of the Forensic Laboratory from the Home Office to the private sector. His dismissive attitude towards Anna, the criminal psychiatrist. The descriptions of the effects of lack of sleep and the overwhelming weariness that afflicts officers during a case. And the, sometimes fatal, effect this has on family life. There are many such realistic touches.

The descriptions of sexual violence and intimacy border on the pornographic. At times these descriptions are very well written, but they are dwelt on and repeated in a way that I find disturbing.

Two things in particular spoilt my enjoyment of what is essentially an original, fast paced thriller. While there are at times perceptive glimpses into the workings of the mind of the killer and the thought processes of the police and other characters, these are outweighed by the rambling and irritating repetitions of ‘inner thoughts’ and descriptions. The second bothersome element is the fact that the descriptions of sexual violence and intimacy border on the pornographic. At times these descriptions are very well written, but they are dwelt on and repeated in a way that I find disturbing.

All this became so wearisome that at one point I seriously considered abandoning the book. It really does need a thorough edit and has all the hallmarks of a second book rushed out to capitalise on the success of the first. I should point out, however, that I am reading both as a reader and a writer, so things that bother me while wearing my ‘writer hat’ may not bother another reader.

There are plenty of positives about this book, lots of good things. This is evidenced by the plethora of five stars. Indeed all reviews average out at 4.18, which is very high indeed and proves how popular Luke Delaney has become. I’d also like to add that I applaud him for experimenting both with points of view and in not sticking to the same type of criminal. I will be interested to know what he does next.

A series too far?

 

The FlightWhen Flight 189 crashes into the Severn Estuary, it leaves a raft of unanswered questions. How could ten-year old Amy Patterson have survived apparently unharmed, only to die of hypothermia? Who was the man found alongside her, a yachtsman who had obviously not been on the plane? How could such a high-tech plane literally drop from the skies? Why were certain passengers switched to this flight at the last moment?

Coroner Jenny Cooper is drawn into the investigation, despite the fact that a distinguished judge is appointed to head an inquiry that would normally be within her jurisdiction. However, Jenny is never one to bow to authority and, under pressure from Amy’s high-powered mother, finds a way to keep herself involved.

The Flight is the fourth in the Jenny Cooper series. I read the first two but must have missed the third, The Redeemed. I enjoyed the earlier books more than this one and have been trying to figure out why that should be. Because The Flight gripped me almost as much as the others. I found it just as hard to put down at times. Nor was I put off by the rather lengthy descriptions of how airlines are organised and the technical side of flying. In fact I found the technical detail and explanations some of the best things in the book.

“I couldn’t really engage with Jenny’s character either, this time round. As I read on I began to rather dislike her. She seemed so obstinate and negative.

In general and on the plus side, it’s refreshing to have a protagonist who isn’t a detective. The insights into the workings of a coroner’s court are instructive and well written; this is true across all the books. Here too the plot is fast paced, at least in the beginning, but becomes more and more implausible and muddled. I never did discover what the helicopters had been doing at the scene.

So what didn’t work? I think it boils down to the fact that this series is being a bit overworked. The Flight is book four and there are at least three more, one to be published in 2016. It’s all becoming too formulaic. Always Jenny battling against authority. Always some secret government agenda or other form of authority opposing her. A game of cat and mouse to see who will win.

I couldn’t really engage with Jenny’s character either, this time round. As I read on I began to rather dislike her. She seemed so obstinate and negative. I found her stubbornness irritating and her depressive attitude wearisome. The bickering and carping that goes on between her and Alison Trent, her sidekick, is also more annoying than instructive. I began to feel that the author couldn’t like her much either, to have created such a dreary person.

Always Jenny battling against authority. Always some secret government agenda or other form of authority opposing her. A game of cat and mouse to see who will win.

I really hope that, in the later books, M.R. Hall gets back on track. In the first book, the fact that Jenny is mentally fragile, and addicted to popping pills, made her plausible, vulnerable and rather likeable. In the second book the author skilfully charted her mental progress, both triumphs and setbacks. These insights added an extra and welcome dimension. In fact so well observed were they that I was convinced that M.R. Hall was a woman. (And I’m not sure what that says about me). However in this third book, I get the impression that the author sees women as whiney or needy or combative – or all three.

Reading the descriptions of the later books, on Amazon, it looks a bit more hopeful. At any rate in terms of plot. We may not be in for more of the same after all. The stories are intriguing – a link between a suicide and a child’s death from meningitis, the aftermath of a tragic house fire and the death of a young soldier in Helmand. They promise new angles and another direction. I look forward to reading them while hoping that Jenny gets a grip! A reader can only take so much whining before giving up.

A Good Read

Wanted-CoverThe description ‘page turners’ might have been coined for Lee Child’s Jack Reacher thrillers. I would say that they are the perfect time waster – like cats on the Internet – except that this would be to do them an injustice. Well written, exciting, with a charismatic hero and tension that builds from page to page, they truly are books that you cannot put down.

I’ve read maybe half a dozen, including this one. While I thoroughly enjoyed them all, A Wanted Man has more substance than most of the ones I have read in that the plot is intricate and ingenious. Many layered with convoluted twists and turns. The characters too are more rounded, the old county sheriff, for instance – Sheriff Goodman, who was indeed a good man.

The story begins. A man in a green winter coat goes into a concrete bunker, followed by two men in black suits. There is a short pause. The two men in the black suits come out again. They get into a red car and drive off. The man in the green winter coat doesn’t come out again. Then blood pools out from under the concrete bunkers door.

The scene having been thus set, we now shift to Jack Reacher. Hitchhiking, as is his habit. With very little luck, which is also typical. And then he gets picked up and his luck changes. For the worse.

It seems that this book follows Worth Dying For, which in turn follows 61 Days. I didn’t find this confusing. I did wonder how Reacher’s nose came to be broken. I also wondered why he was trying to get to Virginia. But these were passing thoughts because those events were not part of this story and, unlike some other books I’ve read recently, the author doesn’t attempt to try and cram those past books into this one. There’s no need. The action in A Wanted Man is absorbing enough on its own. No doubt knowing what went before would be interesting. But not knowing took away nothing from my enjoyment.

Lee Child’s simple and laconic prose might not suit every type of book, but it’s perfect for his Jack Reacher books. There’s room for every style of writing and I derive great pleasure simply from reading these beautifully crafted words. Not great literature maybe, but certainly good writing. And a master of tension and suspense. A good read, in every sense of the phrase.

Curate’s egg – good in parts

Certain books should carry the equivalent of a health warning. ‘Do not read this book unless you have read all the books in the series in sequence.’ Having said that, I don’t think it should be necessary. A book should either stand-alone or, if it Wednesdayreferences earlier works, the references need to be woven unobtrusively into the plot. It’s not what happens here. Great chunks of backstory are shoehorned in, getting in the way and adding to the confusion (of which there is a lot.) There seem to be several different plots, going off at tangents. And running through it a sort of ‘comic caper’ involving a Polish plumber and a bath.

I was looking forward to reading Waiting for Wednesday. I was thrilled to discover that there were at least three Nicci French books that I hadn’t read. I’d loved all her other books – The Memory Game, Until it’s Over, What to Do When Someone Dies to name just a few. I’d actually enjoyed the first Frieda Klein story Blue Monday. Maybe I wasn’t reading it critically or perhaps because it was the first in the series it didn’t suffer from the problems I encountered here.

Detail follows detail, adding to our knowledge of the family who live here, while we hold our breath, waiting for the inevitable

Before I talk about these, I want to highlight some of the great things in this book. The opening for a start. It’s brilliant. The first paragraphs describe an ‘ordinary terraced house’, offering numerous small details that subtly build a picture of the type of people who live there. Thus ‘the paved and gravelled garden’, a ‘single trainer with its laces still done up under the window’, ‘a bird table with a few seeds scattered on its flat surface’. This is more than an excellent description. This is crime fiction from a highly skilled and creative writer. So we know we are being set up.

We are. Next we meet the cat. We follow it through the cat flap and around the house. It takes its time (it’s a cat). The tension racks up (this is first class writing). Detail follows detail, adding to our knowledge of the family who live here, while we hold our breath, waiting for the inevitable. We’re not disappointed. I won’t go into any more detail, except to say that this book is actually worth reading for this first chapter alone. There’s more to be enjoyed too. Her portrayal of the teenagers is spot on. There are small, realistic and insightful touches such as Fearby, the old journalist who visits a bird sanctuary for comfort after having left the oppressive prison. His character is well drawn and believable, as is the victim’s sister, the rather obnoxious Louise.

In contrast the main player, Frieda, is not plausible. Maybe for a fairly stereotyped portrayal of a psychotherapist but not for someone who would be let within a mile of a police investigation. Not in a million years. She’s irrational. Dysfunctional. In fact altogether a bit of a mess. This would be OK if there was anything endearing about her. There isn’t. I just didn’t care. I wanted to. I began the book in that frame of mind. However I became so irritated by her that once or twice I nearly abandoned the book. And for me to abandon a Nicci French book is something I would have said was unthinkable.

The various plot seem to have nothing much to do with each other, the only common denominator being their overall implausibility and the exasperating Ms Klein.

I didn’t enjoy this book. I was too annoyed. The beautifully written passages and sparkling, lively descriptions are far outweighed by clunky sections referring to previous events. These are only partly successful as they still leave many questions unanswered. The various plots seem to have nothing much to do with each other, the only common denominator being their overall implausibility and the exasperating Ms Klein. The introduction of her lover/former lover/close friend/who knows in the form of a letter tacked on to the end of the first chapter is abrupt. The builders Josef and Stefan are comedy stereotypes, along with Reuben whom I initially thought was a builder too. He turned out to be a psychotherapist. The whole tangled skein of her hinted-at involvement with the detective Karlsson, the appearance of her stalker and her antagonistic relationship with Bradshaw, yet another psychotherapist, makes little sense without having read Tuesday’s Gone.

Altogether, a huge disappointment. I hate it when this happens. I don’t like giving writers less than glowing reviews. Especially a favourite crime novelist who’s given me so much pleasure in the past. This won’t stop me reading more Nicci French books but I think I’ll steer clear of Ms Klein and stick to the stand-alones in future.