BOWDRIE - book review

 

This collection of eight short western stories by Louis L’Amour was published in 1983. I read his collection Bowdrie’s Law in 2003. The stories here are from his early period, when he was ‘learning the art of storytelling’ and were featured in the Popular Western magazine 1940-1948. As he says in his foreword, those days of many magazines buying and printing short stories are long gone; a great proving ground for beginning writers to hone their trade.

Chick Bowdrie is a Texas Ranger and is as tough as they come. ‘Me, I never learned to live with folks. Most youngsters learn to live with people by playin’ with other youngsters. I never had any of that. I never really belonged anywhere. I was a stranger among the Comanches an’ a stranger among my own people when I got back. I never belonged anywhere. I’m like that no-account horse of mine…’ (p150) In short, he was a drifter – at least until the Texas Rangers took him in and gave him a purpose.

Here you will find L’Amour’s trademark western knowledge of the terrain and the people who populated it. The stories are traditional, but not merely shoot-em-up tales but mysteries and even romances, each one adding to the depth of the continuing character, Bowdrie. Interspersed between each story are historical notes, in effect brief overviews of real-life Texas Rangers, all of which make fascinating reading.

Bowdrie explains about his odd first name: ‘My name was Charles. Most times Chuck is a nickname for Charles, but there was another boy in school who was called Chuck. He was bigger than I was, so they called me Chick. I never minded.’ So the odd name stuck.

ACT OF OBLIVION - book review

 

Robert Harris’s 2022 novel Act of Oblivion is yet another bestseller, and justifiably so.

It begins in 1660, after Charles II has been proclaimed king (the Restoration). In the new regime those involved in the trial and execution of Charles I are hunted by the regicide committee of the Privy Council and ‘brought to justice’, charged with regicide. A small number of individuals have fled to the Continent; two, however, have sought sanctuary in the other direction, the American colonies: Colonel Edward (Ned) Whalley and his son-in-law Colonel William Goffe.

Richard Nayler, secretary of the regicide committee has his personal reasons to hound Whalley and Goffe. The majority of individuals in the novel existed; Nayler is an exception, though it’s highly likely somebody like him did exist. ‘… a most useful shadow; a shadow who causes things to happen’ (p41).

The Act of Oblivion of 1660 effectively pardoned everyone who had committed crimes during the English Civil War (1642-1649) with a few heinous exceptions, particularly those individuals named in the actual death of Charles I. The Interregnum was to be legally forgotten. Unfortunately, ‘There is no end to it. Only four men were to die for murdering the King. Then we found records of the trial… and the four became eight, then twelve and now there are dozens of them’ (p44).

The story and much of the hunt takes place in Massachusetts, New Haven, Connecticut, Germany, France, and London. Harris conveys the period with deft visual word-strokes that put the reader in the scene, amidst the squalor of London and the strangely beguiling New World, as well as the sinister dark panelled recesses of powerful men.

‘The destitute of London, mere bundles of rags, crouched in the shadows of the walls. Wounded veterans, missing limbs and hobbling on crutches, swung themselves between the graves. A fearful, horrid place, it seemed to him, more a prison than a hospital. It reminded him of his long period of sickness after Naseby, and the gaol where he was kept after his wife had died’ (p80).

Harris does not flinch from showing the appalling graphic beastliness of the time, notably when Nayler is tasked by the Lord Chancellor Hyde with exhuming the corpse of Cromwell. Nayler is not keen on the ‘foul work’: ‘Since when did that deter you? The idea is certainly not mine, believe me. But Parliament commands it, and really, Mr Nayler, if you cannot find any more living regicides to bring to justice, you might as well at least employ yourself in hanging the dead’ (p121). On 30 January Cromwell’s body and two others were hanged in view of thousands of witnesses and towards the day’s end decapitated, their heads impaled on poles above Westminster Hall, the trunks tipped into a common grave.

There are many instances where Harris’s descriptions put the reader in the scene. ‘No sun tempered the iron frost, just the occasional flurry of snow and a grey sky so heavy it seemed to press all the colour from the buildings. Time itself felt frozen’ (p17). And of course much of their time in hiding would be like that, empty days blending together…

 ‘… stood in the water, inhaling the peace of the wood, the scent of the pine resin, the cooing of the pigeons, the gentle splash of the flow over the stones. Midges swirled above the surface, like dust thrown into a shaft of sunlight; occasionally a fish rose to a mayfly’ (p226). [Though he couldn’t inhale cooing and splashing of water; a semi-colon missing, perhaps].

‘The waves breaking on the shore made a sound no louder than an intake of breath, followed by a long withdrawing sigh’ (p313).

During his investigations in Holland, Nayler encounters ‘the Blackamoor, a ship of the Royal Africa Company, owned by the Duke of York, that lay moored in Rotterdam’ (p273). A topical reminder concerning the slave trade of the period. One regicide, Sir John Lisle, was living under the pseudonym of Mr Field in Switzerland. [Coincidentally, a character in recently reviewed Michael Connelly’s The Black Echo, Billy Meadows, used the pseudonym Fields!] Nayler’s thirst for vengeance acknowledged no obstacles…

This was the time when New Amsterdam was taken from the Dutch and became New York (pp323, 357) which would mean war between the two nations.

During their lengthy periods of hiding the two fugitive regicides dwell on the past, in particular their association with Cromwell: ‘One could never be sure with Oliver. Ambition and godliness, self-interest and the higher cause, the base metal entwined with the gold’ (p342).

Also covered in the story are the terrible Black Death and the Great Fire of London; both well realised.

This is a gripping book about an unrelenting manhunt right up to the last two pages.

Excellent writing and storytelling!

Editorial comment

A minor quibble, which I appreciate as a writer: the book is in four parts – Hunt, 1660; Chase, 1661; Hide, 1662; and Kill, 1674. Yet (inevitably) those dates are exceeded by the storyline; for example on p308 (Hide) it is 1664, and of course the Plague and Fire were in 1666; perhaps inclusive dates would have been more appropriate.

Part vs Book. I’m pleased to see that as the book is broken into parts, the chapter numbering continues. In some books, when instead of Part, the divisions are referred to as Books , in some of these cases the chapter numbering still continues. Logically, in my view, if a book is broken into Parts, the chapter numbering continues; if it is broken into Books, then each Book begins with a chapter one.

History lesson for POTUS Biden:

The two principal New York boroughs were King’s (for King Charles) and Queen’s (for Queen Catherine); while the first is now Brooklyn, the second has retained its English royal name. The Duke of York granted control of the land between the Hudson and Delaware rivers to John, Lord Berkeley and Sir George Carteret. They named the land ‘New Jersey’ after the island of Jersey in the English Channel where Carteret was born. Shortly after the Restoration Charles II granted a wide tract of North America to a group of nobles who founded the colony of Carolina (from the Latin form of their monarch’s name) and its capital was Charlestown.

THE LOVING SPIRIT - book review

 

Daphne du Maurier’s debut novel, The Living Spirit, published in 1931, is remarkable, the writing is so assured; whether she is writing about sailing on a storm-tossed sailing vessel or travelling through the beautiful countryside of her beloved Cornwall, you’re there. Within 350 pages she covers four generations of a family’s history: Jennifer Coombe (1830-1863); Joseph Coombe (1863-1900); Christopher Coombe (1888-1912); and Jennifer Coombe (1812-1930).

It begins in 1830, with the marriage of Janet Coombe to her second cousin Thomas. It is a good match, and yet Janet hankered for an adventurous life, away from the small harbour town of Plyn. ‘She loved Thomas dearly, but she knew in her soul there was something waiting for her greater than this love for Thomas. Something strong and primitive, lit with everlasting beauty’ (p18). She wanted to stride across the deck of a sailing boat, but felt chained by her sex and the mores of her time.

‘… the peace of God was unknown to her, and that she came nearer to it amongst the wild things in the woods and fields, or on the rocks by the water’s edge, than she did with her own folk in Plyn. Only glimpses of peace came her way, streaks of clarity in unawakened moments that assured her of its existence and of the certainty that one day she would hold the secret for her own’ (p32).

And: ‘… the rest of her stole from the warm, cheerful room, and the dear kindly faces, and fled away, away she knew not whither, beyond the quiet hills and the happy harbour of Plyn, through the seas and the sky – away to the untrodden air, and the nameless stars’ (p34).

This longing for she knew not what persisted until she absconded from a Christmas attendance at the local church and instead was drawn to the ancient castle ruins overlooking the sea. ‘She leant against the Castle ruins with the sea at her feet, and the light of the moon on her face. Then she closed her eyes, and the jumbled thoughts fled from her mind, her tired body seemed to slip away from her, and she was possessed with the strange power and clarity of the moon itself’ (p37).

It is here, as if experiencing an out-of-body and out-of-time revelation, when she encounters the man from the future, her son. This episode is eerie and moving. And its haunting sequel can be read on p187. Thus, finally, after giving birth to Samuel and Mary, what she had waited for occurred. Her son Joseph was born: ‘And when Janet held her wailing baby to her breast, with his wild dark eyes and his black hair, she knew that nothing in the whole world mattered but this, that he for whom she had been waiting had come at last’ (p51). While she continued to be a loving wife and mother, there was something other binding her to Joseph, ‘a love that held the rare quality of immortality’ (p66).

Janet had three more children, Herbert, Philip and Elizabeth, and of these three Philip proved to be the darkest, most spiteful individual who blighted the lives of others in the family.

Joseph’s wife gave birth to four children: Christopher, Albert, Charles and Katherine. And Christopher fathered three – Harold, Willie and Jennifer.

Both Joseph and Christopher’s lives are seriously damaged by the thoroughly unpleasant Philip’s scheming. The family is displaced to London while Jennifer is a child; these days are well told, displaying the young girl’s burgeoning character and self-reliance. Jennifer seems to have inherited Janet’s restlessness and affinity for the sea. ‘She could not imagine a world without the sea, it was something of her own that belonged to her, that could never be changed, that came into her dreams at nights and disturbed her not, bringing only security and peace’ (p258).

Du Maurier’s descriptions are always so visual, whether about nature or people, such as Jennifer’s grandmother: ‘Slowly she came into the room swaying from side to side, her great breasts heaving beneath her black dress, her white hair piled high on her head like a huge nest. As she moved she grunted to herself, and it took her nearly three minutes before she was seated in her chair, her bad foot on a cushion, and the Bible open before her’ (p264).

Though somewhat grotesque, several scenes involving her grandmother are highly amusing as she frequently misinterprets meanings or miss-hears words – see pp290-291, for example.

The book’s title is taken from one of Emily Bronte’s poems – and is echoed here:

Janet – Joseph – Christopher – Jennifer, all bound together in some strange and thwarted love for one another, handing down this strain of restlessness and suffering, this intolerable longing for beauty and freedom… bound by countless links that none could break, uniting in one another the living presence of a wise and loving spirit’ (p309).

A powerful saga – and an emotional one, too.

Editorial comment

Du Maurier isn’t the only writer who does this: telling you of a dramatic happening and then goes on to detail the actual incident, thereby destroying any surprise, shock or suspense. Sometimes, it may simply be a misplaced afterthought, as this example suggests. On p206: ‘… Christopher made the acquaintance of a young man of his own age, who seemed friendly, and the pair spent their free time together…’ Then on p207: ‘His friend, Harry Frisk, was waiting for him…’ The friend’s name should have been introduced when he was first mentioned, not almost a half-page later. Blame the editor.

The Art of Robert McGinnis - Overview of book

Over the years, I’ve bought quite a few art books featuring a variety of artists and illustrators. This is a recent acquisition to add to that visual library – published by Titan Books in 2014, text by (appropriately) Art Scott. 

McGinnis has been around a long time, born in 1926, and has produced a remarkably varied body of work, whether featuring femmes fatales, heroic characters from history, stunning scenery, animals and transport, he is a master of all. 

Sumptuous illustrations, the majority in full colour, are featured in a number of sections: Seven decades of McGinnis book covers; the movies (posters etc); magazine illustrations (The Saturday Evening Post, Men’s magazines and National Geographic; McGinnis’s West; Gallery art, mostly nudes; and Landscapes. 

There’s a four-page introduction, an interview covering another four pages, then each pictorial section is introduced briefly. 

If you appreciate good art, then this is a book for you.

R.I.P. Neil Robson

Neil Robson 

(4 January 1948-27 February, 2023)

I read the following at the order of service at the cremation on 31 March:

I’ve known Neil since our school-days so he has been a part of my life for near enough sixty-three years. And now he is gone.

He was a man of many parts, a connoisseur of whiskies, knowledgeable in world music (from pop to classical, ethnic to movie), old movies (usually of the British black-and-white variety), trains, local history, radio, photography, video-editing, and computing. While still at school he’d constructed a (doubtless illegal) directional-microphone – but never entered the sleuthing world. He was accomplished in woodwork and even constructed an office or two, and he would happily build a computer for friends and associates. He enjoyed puzzles – notably cryptic crosswords. And he loved gadgets, often being one of the first to own a new one: for example, left-right indicator lights for a bicycle. Surprisingly, he was a late convert to Alexa.

After his death, someone said that ‘wherever he is now, he’ll be at pains to put them right’. Because he was a perfectionist who ‘believed that the only way to do something was the Robson Way.’ He was often right, but conceded there were alternatives; to each his own!

While he will be remembered by many people for many interactions with them, perhaps his greatest gift to those who knew him was that he was most generous with his time, willing to help friends or neighbours with any problem, whether plumbing, electrical, mechanical or relating to computers.

Though not an avid reader, he was interested in words, hence his attachment to crosswords, and took pride in his pronunciation of certain words, not least being honorificabilitudinitatibus, which Shakespeare only used once, in Love’s Labour Lost.

At 27 letters it’s the longest word in the English language which strictly alternates consonants and vowels. It means ‘the state of being able to achieve honours’.

Certainly, Neil achieved honours by his long-lasting friendships, of which there were many from school and his time with the National Coal Board (where he met Margaret and was then subsequently joined with her at the hip).

He was adept at picking up foreign words or phrases, be they Welsh, or bits of German from their visits to Austria and Germany, or snippets of Spanish during their twice-yearly visits to us in Spain over fifteen years.

His humour was invariably dry. When I told him in hospital that his stroke was a shock to us all, he replied, ‘Not as much as it was to me’.

He was wont to deliberately mispronounce certain words so that thereafter the listener would forever be plagued with that version – two examples spring to mind: the local village of Wideopen was pronounced Wideo pen; and Finestrat the Spanish village near Benidorm became finest rat! He also adopted the baton passed on by Terry Wogan, inventing silly names, such as Lidia Bin, Anna Rack, Dai Laffin, Dicky Tikker, Nora Bone, Jim Shoes and Al Fresko…

So, yes, he may be gone, but for many reasons, as well as the aforementioned memories, he’s not forgotten.

THE BLACK ECHO - Book review

I’ve read a good number of debut novels in my time, and Michael Connelly’s The Black Echo is one of the best. Here can be found assured writing, believable characters, vivid description, good pacing, and a likeable and tough protagonist. Harry is short for Hieronymus; apparently his mother ‘had a thing about fourteenth century painters’ (p97). 

LAPD Detective Harry Bosch is called out to the body of a vagrant suspected of succumbing to a drug overdose; stuffed in a concrete pipe near Mullholland Dam. But he reckons it doesn’t look like a suicide. And he recognises the corpse – a fellow soldier from Vietnam twenty years ago, Billy Meadows. Bosch immediately thinks something is very wrong here: ‘There are no coincidences’ (p25).

On checking out the dead man’s apartment, Bosch discovers that the place had been searched already, though an attempt had been made to hide the fact. The search had not discovered a pawn ticket, which Bosch decides to check out at the named shop.

But the shop has been broken into, jewellery and other items stolen…

His leads takes him to the Westland Bank break-in of the previous year. The felons had tunnelled in and raided the safety deposit boxes, the haul estimated at $2m. This robbery was investigated by the FBI but no arrests were made.

Bosch is told to work with the FBI on his latest murder case, and his partner is FBI agent Eleanor Wish.

The tunnelling caper brings back Bosch’s memories of being one of the tunnel rats rooting out Vietcong insurgents. Meadows had been in his team. Some memories never go away. He pulls out a scrapbook: ‘The pages were yellowed and had gone brown at the edges. They were brittle, much like the memories the photos evoked’ (p71).

‘The photos were of the smiling faces of young men who had dropped down into hell and had come back to smile into the camera. Out of the blue and into the black is what they called going into a tunnel. Each one was a black echo. Nothing but death is there. But, still, they went’ (p72).

His flashbacks are powerfully done; Bosch was only twenty and witnessed the mutilation of a comrade. And he was afraid, very afraid. ‘It was like going to hell. You’re down there and you could smell your own fear. It was like you were dead when you were down there’ (p192).

After being demobbed, not surprisingly Bosch suffered from a sleep disorder. ‘There was no going back to repair what had happened. You can’t patch a wounded soul with a Band-Aid’ (p77).

The relationship between Wish and Bosch becomes close and is handled well. Inevitably, Bosch is not a great lover of authority and has his issues with the police and FBI hierarchy, and even has blistering encounters with a couple of Internal Affairs goons.

There are plenty of tense moments, a second tunnel robbery seems probable, and it seems that not everyone is what they seem…

An excellent crime novel with a satisfying ending. The first of twenty-four Bosch books. I’d previously read the fifth Bosch book, Trunk Music in 1998, out of sequence but that was not a problem. I’ll be reading the next three in order: The Black Ice, The Concrete Blonde, and The Last Coyote.

Bosch was also a TV series (2014-2021) on Amazon and was well received.

London's Old Bailey trial on organ harvesting

This week's trial at London's Old Bailey regarding the planned illegal harvesting of a man's kidney highlights aspects of this dark trade. Inspired by similar cases over the last few years, here is: 

ORGAN SYMPHONY

Published by Rough Edges Press, Las Vegas, USA

 

Leon Cazador, half-English, half-Spanish private eye, is on FBI liaison duty in Charleston, South Carolina when a dead child is found with a kidney missing. Suspecting an old foe, he jumps into action when a convoy of trucks with kidnapped children hits a snag, and a boy escapes. But what starts out as a simple cat-and-mouse chase turns into a convoluted web of deceit involving an underground organ transplant ring that surpasses Leon’s darkest expectations.

Years later—and carrying around the weight of unresolved burdens—Leon runs into suspicious activity in Córdoba, Spain that makes his heart stop cold. Organ traffickers are running rampant, and a three-man investigating team has gone missing. Eager to put an end to this corrupt organization’s misdeeds once and for all, Leon makes finding its leader his top priority. But will he be able to take down an evil like no other?

Nik Morton lives in Blyth, Northumberland. His two earlier Leon Cazador thrillers are Rogue Prey and No Prisoners. He can be contacted at mortonnik@gmail.com His latest release from Rough Edges Press is Catalyst – Cat’s Crusade #1. 

Amazon UK: https://tinyurl.com/szhr9s82 

Amazon US: https://tinyurl.com/y2hdryym

THE LITTLE WALLS - Book review

In the 1950s and early 1960s, Winston Graham had a number of suspense novels published. The Little Walls was published in 1955; my copy is the fourth impression, 1972. (Those were the days when you could see how often a book was reprinted!)

It’s written in the first person and I found it comparable to Hammond Innes in style and tone, though perhaps less technical. Philip Turner’s older brother Grevil’s body was discovered in a canal in Amsterdam. Suspected suicide. Philip can’t believe it and sets out to determine that it was murder. Apparently, on Grevil’s body was a letter from a woman called Leonie, breaking off their relationship. Philip still did not believe his brother would take his own life. Grevil had been on an archaeological dig with a mysterious adventurer called Buckingham.

Philip takes leave from his business in America and enlists the help of Martin Coxon, someone who knew Buckingham some years ago.

Grevil’s death occurred in the insalubrious district of De Walletjes – which translates as ‘the Little Walls’. ‘At one place, in a cellar decorated with modern murals which would have left Freud practically nothing  to interpret…’ (p50).

Dutch Inspector Tholen fears Grevil was involved in some shady dealings and ran foul of local villains. Philip’s investigations take him to Naples and Capri, where he links up with a group of rich individuals with intriguing back-stories and a liking of cocktail parties, which normally were anathema to Philip: ‘The buzz of voices, introductions forgotten as soon as made, remarks which meant nothing drowned by others which meant less…’ (p129).  

Reading the story, one could almost believe it had happened – always the sign of a good narrator. The descriptions of the scenery and characters are well done, and there is a burgeoning romance, a betrayal, a fight to the death, and a twist towards the end.

The cover is one of several that feature a character’s facial close-up, all of which are eye-catching. (Though in this case the female protagonist is fair-haired in the book!). These other covers of books I still have to read are: Greek Fire (1957), The Tumbled House (1959), and After the Act (1965).

THE HUMAN FACTOR - Book review

Graham Greene’s 1978 novel The Human Factor is a gripping and believable story about spies without gunfire and hectic action, but plenty of suspense, tension, intrigue and perfect characterisation. 

Maurice Castle is an aging agent in MI6, working in the African section with a younger man, Davis. His new boss is Daintry who has been brought in to review various sections as a leak is suspected. Castle was previously deployed in apartheid South Africa where he fell in love with one of his black agents, Sarah. When his relationship was about to become an embarrassment he fled with her, aided by local Communist Carson. Now working in London, Castle is married to Sarah and has adopted her young boy fathered by another.

Gradually, as the investigation into the supposed leak ensues, suspicions fall upon young Davis… It would be unreasonable to reveal more.

The sleight-of-hand of the people involved, such as C himself, Sir John Hargreaves, and the firm’s creepy doctor Percival provide suspense and tension. The arrival of Cornelius Muller, a powerful man in South Africa’s BOSS, assigned to liaise with Castle on the secret operation Uncle Remus adds drama, since Muller had known Castle in South Africa. Loyalties are questioned; everything is not what it seems; and the morality of Castle’s seniors are decidedly dubious. All the characters are rounded, and seemingly flawed – that is, very human.

Intriguingly, Davis, a tippler, tends to mix his whiskies, notably White Horse and Johnnie Walker: ‘You know, this blend of mine tastes quite good. I shall call it a White Walker. There might be a fortune in the idea – you could advertise it with the picture of a beautiful ghost…’(p66) I wonder if George R. R. Martin stumbled on that moniker when creating his Game of Thrones (1996)?

Greene wanted to get away from the violence and action depicted in popular espionage fiction; in his experience the real thing was more down-to-earth, though doubtless treacherous, and slightly sleazy. After attending a funeral, Daintry has a drink or two with a few people he’d met at Sir John’s house party. Daintry is quizzed about his work: ‘one of those hush-hush boys. James Bond and all that.’ Another states ‘I never could read those books by Ian.’ Another reckons the books were ‘too sexy for me. Exaggerated’ (p165).

This is a book about sacrifice, disillusionment, and love. Greene’s eye for detail, the telling mannerisms, and the secret world’s manipulation of people are laid bare, uncomfortably so. This is as good as any John Le Carré novel.

Editorial note

We writers are advised not to use character names that begin with the same letter or seem or sound similar. I can’t see why Greene was fixated on similarities of names: Castle and Carson. Then there was another ‘c’ – Cynthia, the secretary Davis pines for. Not that it affected the story at all. So much for advice to writers, hm?

PRESS RELEASE - Cat's Crusade #1 - Catalyst

 PRESS RELEASE

CATALYST – CAT’S CRUSADE #1 

Published on 21 March 2023 by Rough Edges Press, Las Vegas, USA

 

 

UK kindle: https://tinyurl.com/bdhfbe3n

US kindle: https://tinyurl.com/ftukpxyr

A fast-paced thriller with never-ending threats and sexy suspense…

A catalyst is a person who precipitates events. That’s Catherine Vibrissae. Orphan, chemist, model, and crusading cat.

Seeking revenge against Loup Dante, the Head of Ananke—and the man responsible for the takeover of her father’s company—Cat will stop at nothing to uncover his wicked agenda. A trained chemist and an accomplished climber, she is not averse to breaking and entering. So, when she crosses paths with an attorney for the bloodless organization and uncovers a mysterious product called Catananche, Cat risks injury and death to learn more.

Ranging from South England to the northeast, from Wales to Barcelona, Cat’s quest for vengeance is implacable. But will she be able to escape the clutches of an unexpected and whip-wielding enemy?

The first in the Cat’s Crusade series, Catalyst follows a strong female character who has a thirst for action.

***

Nik Morton has been a book and magazine editor for many years and is also the author of over 30 books. His latest thrillers, recently published by Rough Edges Press are: Rogue Prey, No Prisoners and Organ Symphony, featuring the half-Spanish, half-English private investigator Leon Cazador.

He and his family returned to UK after spending 15 years in Spain, and now reside in Northumberland.

Nik can be contacted on mortonnik@gmail.com.

BLACK OUT - Book review

John Lawton’s highly accomplished debut novel was published in 1995, the first of eight detective Troy books. It's a mix of crime in the main plus espionage elements. Sergeant Frederick Troy doesn't like any form of his given name, preferring to be addressed by his surname. He is the younger son of a Russian immigrant father who has become a wealthy newspaper publisher and baronet. Defying class and family expectations, the independently wealthy Troy joins Scotland Yard, becoming an investigator on the ‘murder squad’. 

The book begins at the height of the London Blitz, February 1944, when a dog is spotted carrying the severed arm of a man. Before long, Troy is assigned to find out who's murdering German scientists who've been secretly smuggled out of Germany and into Britain. There seems to be a conspiracy of silence regarding the murders and the upper echelons of the American forces. The newly formed OSS is involved, it appears. The convoluted investigation has its compensations for Troy, however, in the erotic form of not one but two femmes fatales – socialite Diana Brock and US Army sergeant Tosca.

The story skips to 1948, when Troy tracks a suspect to Berlin during the Blockade, which provides a fine twist.

Throughout, the characters are well defined and interesting, from the Inspector Onions, to the Polish pathologist Kolakiewicz, the dissolute MI5 man, Pym, the voluptuous Diana and the amusingly voluble and voracious Tosca, to Troy himself. The sense of time and place are expertly evoked.

There is wit and sly humour as well as a little graphic sex. For example, an amusing scene where Troy’s Uncle Nikolai, who works at Imperial College, has a dud bomb stowed in his lab. ‘It fell in Islington churchyard last night. Believe me, it’s as safe as houses.’ That particular metaphor did nothing to reassure Troy. So many houses in Islingon these days were nothing more than rubble and dust’ (p78).

‘Pym was running rapidly to seed and looked as though he meant to enjoy every moment and ounce of it. Somewhere in his attic was a portrait that was forever young’ (p93).

And we have suspense, also: ‘She smiled and took the page from him, and he knew as certain as eggs were powdered that there was someone hiding in the next room’ (p113).

A pleasure to read.

The second Troy book, Old Flames, takes place in 1956 during Khrushchev’s visit to UK. Subsequent books skip about in time, some before the events in Black Out.

THE TWILIGHT OF THE DAWN - Book review

Elizabeth Nell Debus’ historical romance was published in 1989; but I’ve just got round to reading it! 

It begins in May 1860, eleven months before the Civil War started. The story is from the viewpoint of eighteen-year-old Gabriele Cannon. The Cannons own a vast Louisiana plantation and a couple hundred slaves. She has an older brother Tom. Gabriele’s widowed father Oliver would like to free his slaves but state laws forbid it. Both Tom and Gabriele have been brought up with their aunt Mat’s slave girl Veronique; the latter is an accomplished dressmaker and earns money with her skill, though her earnings go to the aunt!

The novel is well written, with often lyrical descriptions, and captures the hopes and fears of the young Gabriele. Debus exhibits an understanding of the environment and all the people, the free and the enslaved.

‘And then she felt herself lifted as her mount left the earth, and for one moment in time, as the mare ran through air, the rider’s whole-body became light, buoyant, filled with a sense of union with the day, with the animal beneath her, with the world that bounded the life of Gabriele Cannon’ (p9).

While catching crayfish in the creek she observes a passenger on the deck of an approaching steam packet boat. This scene is artfully evoked by the cover painting by the artist David Bergen. Shortly afterwards, she is introduced to the passenger she had spotted: Alex St Cyr, an old friend of Tom’s, and Alex’s northern cousin, Jordan Scott.

Inevitably, both Alex and Jordan are attracted to Gabriele. Jordan’s family owns a lucrative shipping business. There is discussion concerning the lack of freedom of slaves to which Tom is sympathetic, while those who work on Scott ships are free men. Tom argues: ‘Legally (your seamen) are free. No one can actually sell them – but they are bought over and over again. Bought for low wages and given scandalous living quarters – not only in ships, but in factories all over the north’ (p93). It’s all very amicable, they agree to differ. Jordan intends to improve the lot of his workforce, but history interferes with his intentions.

Throughout, Gabriele is sympathetic to the plight of the slaves, even though compared to many plantations they are ‘treated well’.

Gabriele’s father is away a lot, involved in the politics, hoping to find compromise, but to no avail. His unexpected death means Gabriele must go into mourning dress.

Come April 1861, the die is cast – and very many will die as a result. Tom was drilling the home guard, as the military had moved north to combat the Yankees: ‘Spring sunshine, still pale and soft in late April, bathed the marchers with an almost veiled light, delicately gilding the long barrels of their rifles, staining their faces with the faint wash of gold’ (p223).

The fighting is virtually all reported: by newspapers or by witnesses who are usually fleeing. Terrible though the battles were, it is mainly only the results Gabriele sees: the wounded by the score.

Alex does not don the Confederate uniform, but becomes a blockade runner, his ship eluding the northerners. Jordan is fighting on the northern side. Tom too was away, fighting for the Confederacy. Gabriele and Aunt Mat coped, running the plantation.

When she finally relinquishes her mourning clothes, Gabriele appraises herself. She is older, and possibly wiser. The colour of her face ‘seemed fresher now, as though the heavy black of her mourning clothes had laid a film of grey over her skin that had now been removed’ (p235). She had ‘grown up’.

She had begun to realise that ‘The hardest battles are not with things outside ourselves, but with those within that work to make us lesser beings than we truly are’ (p247).

At 433 pages, this surprisingly was not a slow read. Interest was maintained throughout, with the reader wanting to know the fate of all of the finely drawn characters. In the mix: the disappearance of Veronique; a secret that Aunt Mat harboured; and the bonds of friendship that even war could not break, despite the friends being on different warring sides.

This historical saga is a fair and readable rendering of a young woman’s situation in a period fraught with complex issues, distress, privation and danger.

In these febrile times it is unlikely that Debus would find a publisher for this heartfelt honest book. I note that it doesn’t have any reviews on Amazon; and it doesn’t fare too well on Goodreads – averaging 3.5 stars. I’d give it four stars for the quality of the writing and the author’s sympathetic immersion in a past time.

The title is taken from HG Wells’ The Discovery of the Future: ‘The past is but the beginning of the beginning, and all that is and has been is but the twilight of the dawn.’