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Showing posts with label corruption. Show all posts
Showing posts with label corruption. Show all posts

Monday, 11 November 2024

SALT IS LEAVING - Book review

 


J.B. Priestley’s 1966 novel Salt is Leaving was first published as a Pan paperback original and attained a second printing in the same year.

From the first page, I was drawn in by the story and the writing style. The last novel of his I read was Saturn Over Water in 1980, which I found impressive. I still have five more of his books to read.

It begins in a Midlands bookshop owned by Mr Edward Culworth, Maggie’s father. Recently returned from London and a failed three-year affair, Maggie is helping at the shop. At times ‘Maggie felt she was quite attractive, but there were other times, and now more and more of them, when she was almost sure she was just a thick, dull lump’ (p9).

This particular day, however, her father doesn’t appear at the shop – and before long she realises he has ‘gone missing’, something he has never done before. Maggie lives with her parents and brother Alan, a University lecturer in physics.

Dr Lionel Humphrey Salt, a widower, is also concerned about a missing person – one of his patients, Noreen Wilks. At the last consultation he prescribed medicine for her liver problem. If she didn’t take the life-sustaining drug, she would die. Salt is about to depart from the town after seven years and has already been relieved in his GP role; however, he wants to locate Noreen before he goes.

Salt makes enquiries at various places, such as the George Pub: ‘The counter was thick with high blood pressures and potential coronaries, either shouting at one another or at the waiter and the barmaid’ (p24).

A link is made between Noreen and Dr Salt. So Maggie approaches the good doctor. ‘He seemed the oddest mixture – one minute sleepy, simple and rather sweet – the next minute hard and ruthless’ (p46).

Salt takes her to meet a local nightclub owner, Buzzy Duffield, who has contacts and owes the doctor a favour or two... Buzzy is quite a character – ‘He was wide and fat and bald, with an enormous face on which his features merely seemed to be huddled together in the middle’ (p47). He also exhibits a verbal tick, uttering Bzzz from time to time, but not often enough to become tedious.

Another contact they encounter is Jill Frinton, ‘A classy handsome piece – and about as soft and tender as a sheet of high-duty alloy’ (p51).

A daughter of a local big-wig and benefactor is Erica Donnington: ‘no hat but a lot of hair that needed washing, and was an expensive slut with a long loose face and body’ (p102).

Before long, Salt is approached in a heavy-handed manner, suggesting he should depart from the town immediately. ‘Somebody wants me to clear out of Birkden... simply because I’m asking questions about Noreen Wilks’ (p53).

Salt is well travelled, having served in Burma, then lived and worked in the New Territories, Hong Kong, in North Borneo, Penang and Singapore before returning to England. He’s forthright, persistent, brave, and a student of human nature. ‘When they’re deliberately lying, most people can’t maintain a steady tempo. When the big lie comes, either they hurry a little or slow down. There’s a change in tone too... With the early lies, when they feel they’re getting away with it, there’s a faint faint note of triumph, the impudence begins to show’ (p72).   

The interplay between Salt and Maggie is one of the book’s strengths.

Priestley throws in the occasional social comment in an amusing manner, such as: ‘There was no longer a railway connection between Hemton and Birkden, the nearest large town, apparently in order to make the road between them even more congested with buses and cars’ (p13). The town names are fictitious.

As the puzzle unfolds for the odd pair, sex, drugs and corruption figure though not too graphically for the reader.

The cover (artist unattributed) is excellent: Priestley refers to the ‘maze that finally turned into a high road’ (p5); the cinema ticket and the hotel room key are relevant, as is the rag doll.

A light quick read.

Saturday, 21 October 2017

Chill of corruption...



Corrupt politicians. Where would we fiction writers be without them?

There are allegations flying around at present about certain individuals in government in Malta, most notably after the car-bomb assassination of journalist Daphne Caruana Galizia.

Malta is steeped in history – and conflict – and well worth a visit. I’ve lived there, and subsequently visited several times since. Yet, like everywhere else, there’s a dark side…

Apparently, in the last ten years or so Malta has suffered about fifteen mafia-style assassinations and car bombings, and accusations of corruption, bribery and money-laundering currently prevail.

My cross-genre crime/vampire/black magic thriller Chill of the Shadow has its share of corrupt individuals. Here’s an excerpt from pp115/116:


Grech entered the room and welcomed the four men and a woman, all dressed in black. They sat in a circle on easy chairs, and sipped drinks supplied from the cabinet at the curtained window.
            The wall lights were dimmed, subduing the place in shadows. In the centrr of their circle was a round wooden coffee table; lying on its carved surface was a thick large book, its binding tinged a pale yellowing pink in the poor light.
            There were three empty chairs in the circle. As Grech sat in one of them, he said, “Zondadari will be down shortly. And Spellman’s due in a half-hour. Then we can discuss the arrangements for his ceremony.”
            The woman spoke first. “Is Zondadari going to be of any use to us?”
            “Most certainly, Selena,” Grech replied. “He is powerful, knows how to suborn any potential trouble-makers – in particular, dangerous political opponents. He and his acolytes can go into places we or our feeble manifestations cannot. And usually he’s the height of discretion.”
            Selena’s dark eyes widened. “Usually?”
            “Yes,” chimed in Spiteri, breathing heavily as he leaned his obese frame forward. “Sometimes. The other day one of his bloodless corpses was discovered.” He raised a pudgy, ring-laden hand. “Don’t worry. I covered the tracks. Mind you, I had the devil’s own job getting the file hidden away in old HQ records.” His double chins wobbled at the memory.
            Selena persisted. “I thought he promised to be more careful – at least till after the election?” Her thin red lips – enhanced by a grey lipstick outline – pursed cruelly.
            David Bugeja, dressed in black corduroys and a silk shirt, sat with his legs stretched out under the table. Although he was a politician, he more resembled a film or theatre director, someone involved in the make-believe of the arts rather than the lies of politics.
            Bugeja eased himself up in the seat, sighed and said, “We all break promises, don’t we?” And he eyed Selena maliciously.
            Not for the first time, Grech wondered if there had been anything between those two.      “Zondadari tries,” Bugeja concluded, “poor bastard.”
            Spiteri’s thick lips curled wetly in obvious distaste. “You feel sorry for – for him?”
            “Yes, James, I do.” Bugeja gestured vaguely with his long thin hands. “He didn’t ask to become a vampire, you know. He told me the story about his joining the undead – it’s terribly tragic.”
            Spiteri sank back and guffawed.
            “It’s an eternal curse, true,” conceded Selena.
            Grech loudly cleared his throat. “Can we get back on track?” He addressed the gaunt greying man on his left, another politician. “John, is the police department in our pocket yet?”
            John Camilleri’s hand rubbed his designer stubble and he suddenly seemed uncomfortable. “Ready for the election?”
            “Yes, John,” said Grech with diminishing patience, “the coup we’ve all been working toward.”
            Camilleri fidgeted, his dark brown eyes evasive. “Well, no. Not in our pocket, exactly.”
            “What exactly, then, John – if you would be so good as to tell us?” The tone in Grech’s voice was impatient, bordering on menace.
            “I fear those days are gone. There are plenty of police who’re incorruptible–”
            “Detective Sergeant Attard,” Petri, a shipping magnate, broke in. “Isn’t he becoming a nuisance?”
            Selena shook her head. “He was. But I think you’ll find he’s suddenly lost interest in the black arts. We paid him an instructive visit tonight. He’ll be in plenty of pain, but he’ll live.”
            “Good,” said Grech. “His death might have been difficult to cover up just now.”
            “There’s always the traffic accident,” mused Selena. “That’s worked in the past. We’ve rid ourselves of a few troublesome thorns in the Coven’s side.”
            “True. But until we’ve gained power in these islands, we have to tread with a modicum of care. The time will come when we can rid ourselves of all the Attards.”
            “The reporter,” asked Bugeja, “is she getting too close?”
            “No.” Grech smiled. “She’ll be fully under control very soon. I have Zondadari’s word on that.” The door opened. “Ah, talk of the devil,” – they laughed, though some of the merriment was strained – “and he will appear.”
            Zondadari stood in the doorway and eyed the group. “Gentlemen. Lady. Shall we begin?”

***


This cross-genre thriller is set in present-day Malta and has echoes from pre-history and also the eighteenth century Knights of Malta.

Malta may be an island of sun and sand, but there’s a dark side to it too. It all started when some fishermen pulled a corpse out of the sea... Or maybe it was five years ago, in the cave of Ghar Dalam…

Spellman, an American black magician, has designs on a handpicked bunch of Maltese politicians, bending their will to his master’s. A few sacrifices, that’s all it takes. And he’s helped by Zondadari, a rather nasty vampire.

Maltese-American investigative journalist Maria Caruana’s in denial. She can’t believe Count Zondadari is a vampire. She won’t admit it. Such creatures don’t exist, surely? She won’t admit she’s in love with him, either...

Detective Sergeant Attard doesn’t like caves or anything remotely supernatural. Now he teams up with Maria to unravel the mysterious disappearance of young pregnant women. They’re also helped by the priest, Father Joseph.

And there are caves, supernatural deaths and a haunting exorcism. Just what every holiday island needs, really.

Where there is light, there is shadow…

Some reviews extracts:

Kay Lesley Reeves (Spain)
I'll never look at bats in quite the same way again. An original twist on vampire legend with a hint of tongue-in-the-cheek humour.

Mr M. C. Iles (UK)
I visited Malta many years ago and Morton’s description is spot on. In fact his research is so exact that half-forgotten memories soon came flooding back and I found myself walking those ancient streets once again. A dark and classical tale with excellent twists that will keep readers enthralled.

Angela M.
… has a strong structure and is full of rich writing and action. The plot has page turning twists and the main characters are likeable, especially the female lead. I hadn't read a vampire book in a while and was reminded of how intensely gruesome they can be. While this one has its squeamish moments it's not atypical for the genre, and I can't help liking a well written book! The Malta setting was perfect, making this a great escape read.

E. B. Sullivan (California, US)
Set in picturesque Malta (the book) offers the reader a refreshing twist on the popular vampire genre. Mr. Morton weaves a story with multiple surprises. From the beginning, his plausible and complex characters lure the reader deeper into his yarn. In particular, Maria and Michael are hypnotic, compelling, and seductive. The desire to learn more about these romantic and dashing figures makes this book a true page-turner.

 Chill of the Shadow - available from Amazon worldwide - e-book and paperback


Tuesday, 31 March 2015

Writing - research - update

I’m getting to the end of the novel set mainly in China (Shanghai and Nanjing) and this has involved quite a lot of interesting research, most of which won’t appear in the book (happily, say most readers!) – subjects such as:

Architecture
Surveillance
Food and farming
Pollution
Grand Canal
Wuxi district
Sino-Japanese relations
Corruption

An immense and fascinating country, with stoic and long-suffering people, and influenced by complex even contradictory politics. Yes, there are considerable human rights issues – and privacy and health concerns – and these will be touched upon, though not too much as the book is a thriller, after all!

The country’s most recent reform era began in 1978, but it wasn’t until the mid-1990s that free market ideas started to have a major impact on smaller cities. Locals coped with overwhelming change: the end of government-assigned jobs, the sudden privatisation of housing.
 
Pollution is serious. Not only dirty air, but contaminated soil and water. Yet action is being taken to combat this (whether fast enough is another matter.) For example, all local cabs and buses in Fuling now run on natural gas, in order to reduce pollution. Hundreds of factories bordering Lake Tai (a huge freshwater lake at risk) have been closed down or moved.

Here are some quotations from a 2013 National Geographic: There is an old saying of China: Dog loves house in spite of being poor; son loves mother in spite of being ugly. That’s our feeling. Today we are working hard, and tomorrow we will do what we can for our country.

Since the late 1970s, about 155 million people have migrated to the cities from the countryside.

Three Gorges Dam is the largest concrete structure on Earth – 5 times as wide as the Hoover Dam.

 

Wednesday, 6 November 2013

Torn from the news – living in slavery

About 880,000 people in the EU are living in slavery, according to the October figures from the European Parliament’s Organized Crime, Corruption and Money Laundering Committee (CRIM). These include children who are forced to beg, men who are forced to work for pitifully low or no wages, and women who are forced to work as prostitutes.

CRIM has urged the EU member states to eradicate trafficking in human beings. Considering that it’s estimated that organised crime nets around 25billion euros each year, crime lords are not going to give up their hold on their luckless human assets.

The aim to eradicate this modern form of slavery is not going to be easy, since there are thousands of corruption cases registered in the public sector of the EU. There’s no telling what the actual damage this causes, either, but it must be considerable. Forlorn hope, but if organised crime could be radically reduced, imagine how improved living standards would be!)

There are relatively new crimes being organised today, too. A booming trade in human organs and wildlife and the rapid spread of cyber-crime take their toll.

In Europe, there a total of 3,600 international criminal organisations operating across the EU, according to the report. This is one reason why the British SOCA (and parts of the Border Agency, and the Child Exploitation and Online Protection Centre, as well) have been replaced by the NCA (National Crime Agency) to tackle the 40,000 individuals in 5,500 criminal gangs in UK; the NCA will have a big presence abroad, too, with 130 officers in excess of forty countries.

CRIM recommends the abolition of European tax havens and increased prison time for thos caught and convicted of money laundering or corruption. To help in the fight against corruption, the committee calls for further legal protection for whistle-blowers within the EU.

Excerpt from Blood of the Dragon Trees

The week was a long ordeal of starvation rations, hard labour and a few minor beatings, but Jalbala stoically accepted his lot. His body ached in every muscle, mainly from work, but he was determined to fit in.

Including him, there were twenty-two in the new group, so Mustapha had been accurate on that point, too. It seemed that the rest of the group hadn’t noticed the switch. They were probably – and understandably – wrapped up in their own fate at the time.

Some days he was put to work in a field, picking melons. The open air was preferable, but the sun quickly sapped his strength and gave him a pounding headache, the first signs of dehydration. In the fields, Jalbala got to know the woman he’d pulled out of the water. Her name was Nadira. She was twenty-four and had left her two young boys with her parents. Her husband had been killed and she wanted to fend for herself. ‘Europe is where I will make money and bring my children up,’ she told Jalbala with conviction.

Other days, he worked under immense sheets of plastic. Within these greenhouses, he found it difficult to breathe in the very humid 140oF. Light and heat seemed to radiate from every surface. The days melded into an amorphous mass of time within Jalbala’s surreal world, where the sky was white, suspended by arched wooden ribs, just inches above his head.

Toiling in the suffocating greenhouses, Jalbala made friends with one of the men who’d been landed from the ship. Talking made them even more breathless, but Jalbala needed information and Jope was glad to pass the time while doing monotonous work.

Jope spoke French. He was Senegalese, with a wife and a five-year-old daughter. He’d been an electrician, earning £25 a month.

‘Why talk in British pounds?’ Jalbala queried. ‘Your currency is francs, isn’t it?’

Jope shrugged. ‘I don’t know why, but they preferred discredited pounds, rather than our francs or euros.’

He went on. He’d been enticed by a friend who said that in the Canaries he could earn at least £1,000 a month. ‘I decided to improve my family’s lot. I spoke to my wife and we agreed. I took our family savings and went to the coast.’ He eventually caught a ship sailing from Dajla in Mauritania. ‘I want a house and I want to educate my children,’ he told Jalbala. ‘The journey cost £800. I worked for three months to add the wages to our savings.’

Jalbala felt for the man. The money that ruled – and ruined – Jope’s life was peanuts to the majority of people in the UK or the States. Everything was relative, he supposed. Both the States and the UK were still hurting from the credit crunch and massive borrowing. Yet he’d seen in England that large sections of the workforce were still intent on striking for higher wages. What planet were they on?

‘Why do you ask so many questions?’ Jope said.

Really good question, Jalbala thought. ‘I’m a reporter. I want to expose the people who put you through this.’ He only wished that was true; maybe some aspects of it could be.

Somewhere near, guard dogs barked and Jalbala knew that not far from their side strode sadistic men with pickaxe handles and baseball bats. (p84)
 
BLOOD OF THE DRAGON TREES
Amazon.co.uk - http://goo.gl/fsLk3X
Amazon.com - http://goo.gl/wHQpQp

Laura Reid likes her new job on Tenerife, teaching the Spanish twins Maria and Ricardo Chávez. She certainly doesn’t want to get involved with Andrew Kirby and his pal, Jalbala Emcheta, who work for CITES, tracking down illegal traders in endangered species. Yet she’s undeniably drawn to Andrew, which is complicated, as she’s also attracted to Felipe, the brother of her widower host, Don Alonso.
            Felipe’s girlfriend Lola is jealous and Laura is forced to take sides – risking her own life – as she and Andrew uncover the criminal network that not only deals in the products from endangered species, but also thrives on people trafficking. The pair are aided by two Spanish lawmen, Lieutenant Vargas of the Guardia Civil and Ruben Salazar, Inspector Jefe del Grupo de Homicidios de las Canarias.
            Very soon betrayal and mortal danger lurk in the shadows, along with the dark deeds of kidnapping and clandestine scuba diving…

Note. The film The Whistleblower (2010) is a searing indictment of institutionalised corruption that condones people trafficking, with a superb performance from Rachel Weisz. This film is at times brutal, uncomfortable viewing and not for the faint-hearted. It’s based on actual events.