THE CURSE OF THE PHARAOHS - Book review

Elizabeth Peters’s 1981 novel The Curse of the Pharaohs is the second in her Amelia Peabody mysteries. At her death there were nineteen books in the series; a twentieth was completed in 2017 four years after her death. This is the fourth I’ve read (the others were 1-The Crocodile on the Sandbank, 3-The Mummy Case, and 6-The Last Camel Died at Noon); clearly you don’t have to read them in sequence, though you may miss some back-references by not doing so. They’re thoroughly enjoyable with two strong main characters, wryly comic in tone yet interlaced with oodles of fascinating archaeological detail.

This first-person story narrated by Amelia occurs in 1892. Dear reader, she has married Emerson, the professor she met in the first book. ‘Five years of marriage have taught me that even if one is unamused by the (presumed) wit of one’s spouse, one does not say so... Emerson is a remarkable person, considering that he is a man. Which is not saying a great deal’ (p2). They’re Egyptologists but stuck in a rut – family life and a young precocious son, Walter, known as Ramses taking up their time. However, their ennui is about to be relieved by the arrival of Lady Baskerville whose husband died under bizarre circumstances while on a dig in Egypt.

Before long they have deposited Ramses with relatives and head for Egypt and Lady Baskerville’s

Dig. Lady Baskerville: ‘There was no colour in her cheeks, but her mouth was a full rich scarlet. The effect of this was startling in the extreme; one could not help thinking of the damnably lovely lamias and vampires of legend’ (p26).

The married pair are constantly at loggerheads. ‘ "I never raise my voice," Emerson bellowed’ (p108). Though invariably they kiss and make up at the end of the argument (most of which Amelia wins). ‘My suggestion that I call my maid to help me out of my frock was not well received. Emerson offered his services. I pointed out that his method of removing a garment often rendered that garment unserviceable thereafter. This comment was greeted with a wordless snort of derision and a vigorous attack upon the hooks and eyes. After all, much as I commend frankness in such matters, there are areas in which an individual is entitled to privacy. I find myself forced to resort to a typographical euphemism’ (p38). In short, three asterisks (for a scene break).

There are plenty of suspects, of course. They meet up with Mr Milverton, a photographer who has an air of mystery about him; Karl von Bork, ‘I was not surprised to find him prompt at his meals; his contours indicated that a poor appetite was not one of his difficulties’ (p66); American Cyrus Vandergelt; the overbearing Madame Berengeria and her artist daughter Mary; and journalist O’Connell.

Despite superstition threatening the dig, our erstwhile characters go ahead: ‘... crystalline powder, clinging to the men’s perspiring bodies, gave them a singularly uncanny appearance; the pallid, leprous forms moving through the foggy gloom resembled nothing so much as reanimated mummies, preparing to menace the invaders of their sleep’ (p153).

Another murder and a poisoning add to the mystery. Throughout Amelia’s narrative we’re treated to suspense and amusement with a dash of tension and delightful colourful descriptions. ‘Alarm seized me. Emerson never speaks French unless he is up to something.  “You are up to something,” I said’ (p223).

I have several more unread books in the series about this indomitable Victorian sleuth piled on a shelf. Something to look forward to in due course.

Elizabeth Peters is the pen-name of Barbara Mertz (1927-2013) with a PhD in Egyptology. She also wrote as Barbara Michaels.

SYCAMORE GAP - Book review

LJ Ross’s second DCI Ryan novel Sycamore Gap was published in 2015, several years before two deranged dullards actually felled this famous tree. It is a sequel to her Holy Island bestseller.

It begins with a Prologue: in 2005 on 21 June, the Summer Solstice. The murder of a woman is committed alongside the Roman wall by an unknown man.

Then, ten years later on the same date a female skeleton is discovered buried in the Roman wall itself. Ryan and his team are brought in to investigate.

Ross has deservedly garnered a vast readership with her mix of gruesome murders, personable detectives and humour. ‘...she carried an enormous designer handbag that Mary Poppins would have been proud of’ (p14). There’s also believable police procedural detail and apt social commentary: ‘It was easy to talk about restorative justice and the value of rehabilitation when the damage and destruction had never hit too close to home’ (p149).

Finding the murderer is not easy – and there is a second one before long. The team – older, experienced Phillips and bright and brave MacKenzie with Ryan – work well together and there are moments of charm, friendship and compassion. Ryan is still plagued by the awful murder of his sister. There is a lingering threat from the far-from-moribund black magic Circle. And Ryan’s relationship with Anna hits a few speed-bums during the case. The final pages speed towards a suspenseful denouement.

Not surprisingly, while this murder case is wrapped up satisfactorily, there are sufficient hints of more future trauma aimed at Ryan and Anna, doubtless in book three, Heavenfield.

LJ Ross’s twenty-fourth DCI Ryan Berwick is due out in November.

Editorial comment - for the benefit of writers:

Ryan puts his hands in his jacket pockets (p11). We don’t see him removing them yet he ‘shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket’ again on p12.

Ryan refers to the discoverer of the skeleton as Colin (p13). Yet his name isn’t seen to be revealed to him before this.

‘I’m sure that’s it,’ he nodded (p204). That sentence should end with a full stop. He nodded – as separate sentence. Or it could have been written as ‘I’m sure that’s it,’ he said and nodded...

EXCURSION TO TINDARI - Book review

Andrea Camilleri’s fifth Montalbano novel Excursion to Tindari was published in 2000 (and published in English 2005).

Montalbano is investigating the murder of 22-year-old Sanfilippo and coincidentally the disappearance of two pensioners living in the same block of flats. The disappearance occurred during the excursion... Naturally, there are no coincidences! The plot, as ever, is convoluted but seems entirely logical and it would be a shame to relate more.

New readers should really start with the first Montalbano book. The rest, they know what to expect:

Long-suffering Fazio muses ‘Whenever the inspector chided him for no reason, it merely meant he needed to let off steam’ (p63). And, naturally, as usual, food and drink figure in the narrative. ‘The day Arturo decided to offer a few scraps of brioche free of charge would be the day the world witnessed a cataclysm to delight Nostradamus’ (p97). The unfortunate accident-prone Judge Tommaseo has yet another car crash – this time, in a ditch (p154). We’re presented with shifts in scene – many involving only telephone conversations – so that at times it’s like reading a radio script. Yet this method is ideal for the screenwriter and for turning the pages fast. There is limited description to put the reader in the scene, but the characters carry the story.

None of the Montalbano mysteries are cosy crime tales, despite the humour and occasional farce; they’re grim, fast-paced and even poignant. And addictive.

The cover – and spine illustrations - of these editions convey the story/plot; better, I feel, than the new covers.

Editorial comment:

‘said to himself’ (p103) – hurrah!

THE CHEROKEE TRAIL - Book review

Louis L’Amour’s novel The Cherokee Trail was published in 1982.

Mary Breydon, widow of retired major Marshall is taking on her late husband’s job of running a stagecoach station. With her daughter Peg she fled her home Harlequin Oaks in the South when it was pillaged and razed by guerrillas. Her father had taught her to ride, to shoot and to stand firm – ‘... “the strongest,” her father said, “is he who stands alone!’ (p95). 

She meets a Union cavalry officer Barry Owen – (not Gary from the 7^th Cavalry music!) Indeed, she meets all sorts of folk on the stagecoaches passing through: ‘Actors, prospectors, gamblers, miners, hunters, newspapermen, homemakers, and shady ladies, whiskey peddlers and weapons-salesmen, Indian agents, drummers from all over the world (p193).

She’s stubborn and brave and peremptorily dismisses the slovenly detestable Scant Luther, making an enemy of the man; there’s another even more formidable, a ruthless war criminal who actually killed her husband! She has to face Indians and gunmen – yet nothing will deter her from making her station the best on the Cherokee Trail.

She is helped by the mysterious Temple Boone, cantankerous Ridge Fenton, the orphan Wat and the Irish lass, Matty – all characters who add to a very enjoyable story.

Interestingly, this adage ‘The secret of victory is to attack, always attack’ (p72) is used in his other books. And why not?

Editorial comment:

‘... the Williamses’ (p138)

And ne-er-do well ‘called Williams’ (p64). Of all the names in the world, why duplicate for two different people?

THE VOICE OF THE VIOLIN - Book review

Andrea Camilleri’s fourth Montalbano novel The Voice of the Violin was published in 1997 (English version in 2003).

It begins humorously with Salvo Montalbano realising it wasn’t going to be his day – besides attending a funeral (the wrong one), other set-backs pile up – not least his distant relationship with Livia. He also has to contend with the new commissioner, Benetti-Alderighi and the new forensics guy, Dr Arquá, both of whom reserve ‘their cordial antipathy’ for the inspector (p29).

Then it gets serious. By roundabout means Montalbano discovers a naked young woman suffocated in her bed. There is no shortage of suspects – her ageing husband, who is a distinguished doctor, a simple shy admirer who has gone missing, an antiques dealer from Bologna, the victim’s friend Anna. The key just might be a reclusive violinist!

‘Maestro Barber struck up the first notes. And before he’d been listening even five minutes, the inspector began to get a strange, disturbing feeling. It seemed to him as if the violin had become a voice, a woman’s voice that was begging to be heard and understood’ (p222).

Montalbano knows his faults. ‘In physics, at school, he’d always been between a D and a F. If he’d had a teacher like her [Anna] in his day, he might have become another Einstein’ (p67).

Acerbic, temperamental, Montalbano castigates his loyal men when things go wrong – but they take it all with a pinch of salt because he gets to the root of the mystery every time. The usual gang are here – Mimi Augello, long suffering; the hapless Catarella who undergoes a sort of transformation; and detective Fazio who he most relies on.

The story races along with rapid scene-shifts – often merely quick-fire telephone conversations. And of course there’s food as well as wit and poignancy, all of which you come to expect in a Montalbano book.

GRANTCHESTER-1 - Book review

James Runcie’s first collection of Grantchester short stories feature in this tome: Sydney Chambers and the Shadow of Death, published in 2012. Besides this tale the others included comprise A Question of Trust, First Do No Harm, A Matter of Time, The Lost Holbein, and Honourable Men. These stories span the period 1953-1954.

The stories formed the basis of the popular ITV series Grantchester.

Sydney is in his early 30s and is partial to whisky – ‘favourite tipple... only kept for medicinal purposes’ (p4) – rather than sherry. He fought in the War with the Scots Guards and ruminates on the survivors of the conflict: ‘... rest of their lives lived in the shadow of death’ (p24),

After a funeral that Sydney officiated at mourner Pamela Morton informs him that the reported suicide of a solicitor, Stephen Staunton, was actually murder. The local detective, Inspector Geordie Keating is Sydney’s regular drinking pal and reluctantly goes along with Sydney investigating. Staunton’s widow is German, Hildegard, at a time when memories of the war were still bitter.

The characterisation of all involved in these stories is well done, and the descriptions evoke the place and the feel of the period. ‘As the leaves fell the landscape revealed itself, like a painting being cleaned or a building being renewed’ (p55). This allusion to a painting pre-echoes a later tale, The Lost Holbein.

Sydney is invited to Nigel and Juliette Thompson’s New Year dinner party; it ends in chaos and mystery when an engagement ring goes missing. By now Sydney is worrying about how his life is being affected: ‘... to be suspicious, to think less of less of everybody, suspect his or her motives and trust no one. It was not the Christian way’ (p113). Almost all those gathered at the dinner table are suspects.

In A Matter of Time Runcie cleverly begins with thoughts on four minutes – the time to boil an egg, run a mile, etc – and concludes reflecting on those four minutes.

‘Singing is the sound of the soul’ (p80). Sydney loves jazz and, in the hope that he can convert the inspector, he takes his pal Geordie to see an American jazz singer, Gloria Dee – ‘Ain’t got no husband. You don’t keep the carton once you’ve smoked the cigarettes’. Sadly, there is a murder. ‘He looked like a man who was stuck in a dream of falling from a high building; someone who knew that he would go on falling for the rest of his life...’ (p231).

Sydney has a girl-friend Amanda – it’s platonic though he’d like it to be more – and while helping him she manages to get into a dangerous situation while investigating a missing Holbein painting.

To go into detail about any story would spoil the enjoyment. Suffice it to say that the writing is very good and involving. Sydney and Geordie come alive, as do others. There’s poignancy and light humour and irony on display, too. ‘Let me take your cloak. I always think they make priests look like vampires’ (p113). The main characters in the TV series are all introduced by the end of these stories.

Editorial comment:

The first story begins: ‘Canon Sydney Chambers had never intended to become a detective. Indeed, it came about quite by chance, after a funeral, when a handsome woman of indeterminate age voiced her suspicion that a recent death of a Cambridge solicitor was not suicide, as had been widely reported, but murder.’

This paragraph effectively makes the first few pages superfluous as it tells us what is going to be revealed in those pages. The hook would still work if it merely began with: ‘Canon Sydney Chambers had never intended to become a detective. Indeed, it came about quite by chance.’

‘thought to myself’ (p8). Oh, dear: ‘to myself’ is not necessary.

‘... take a holiday in France, he wondered?’ The question mark should go after ‘France’.

Characters called Thompson, Templeton and Teversham – beginning with ‘T’! There are other letters in the alphabet...

Yet another character called Morton... We do get about.

FANTOMAS - Book review

The character Fantômas by Marcel Allain and Pierre Souvestre is a twentieth century literary phenomenon. Published in 1911 it spawned thirty-one sequels. Fantômas, a masked man in impeccable evening clothes is amoral and deadly, a scourge of France and elsewhere.

The book’s co-writers produced twenty sequels in four years; then Souvestre died suddenly of Spanish influenza in 1914. Shortly after the war erupted and Allain fought in the trenches, but survived to produce eleven more Fantômas novels (indeed some six hundred novels and many stories and articles) and married his co-writer’s widow. Besides being a successful pulp writer, he was a compulsive driver of the cars he collected; he died in 1969.

This translation (of 1986) is a modernized version of one published in 1915.

At the beginning of the book Fantômas comes to us fully formed, already notorious and feared by rich and poor alike. ‘... very extraordinary that such mysterious characters as Fantômas can exist nowadays. Is it really possible that one man can commit so many crimes, and that any human being could escape discovery...’ (p19)

It would seem so. The Marquise de Langrune is viciously stabbed in her own home while a number of guests were staying there... and the blame seems to rest on him.

Inspector Juve is pressed to drop all his other cases and investigate the murder of the Marquise. He is a master of disguise, which enables him to go places where a detective would be suspicious. Yet, to compound matters, Fantômas is also proficient at concealing his identity and taking upon himself more than one as it suits his purpose. And so the manhunt begins!

In common with most potboilers, the pace quickens and there’s an urge to keep turning the pages.

There are a number of twists – in identity and revelations and the intelligent and persistent Juve nearly gets his man more than once. Yet ultimately, he must fail – as have so many other senior detectives on the trail of fictional villains. The difference here is that there is no Poirot, Holmes or Templar to bring the miscreant to justice.

The final pages of the book are intense and grim, which is to be expected, since the introduction tells us, ‘Fantômas has no redeeming traits; greed and vengeance are his chief motivations...' (p5). Whatever the reason, his appeal still seems strong after so many years.

MAIGRET AND THE IDLE BURGLAR - Book review

 

Georges Simenon’s Maigret and the Idle Burglar was published in 1961 and translated in 1963 from Maigret and the Lazy Burglar.

It’s winter in Paris. Maigret has been called out to a murder and his wife advises him to ‘dress up warmly. It’s freezing hard’. Simenon captures the scene with a few pen-strokes: ‘Drawing back the curtain, he saw frost-flowers on the window. The street lamps had the special brightness that only comes with intense cold, and along the Boulevard Richard-Lenoir there was not a soul to be seen or a sound to be head – just one lighted window, in the house opposite; must be someone ill there’ (p3).

The call-out is unofficial as this is Inspector Fumel’s case.

Fumel’s marriage is on the rocks and he has a mistress. He ‘always had a soft spot for women, in spite of all the trouble they had brought him’ (p114)

Maigret is still fuming about how the Ministry of the Interior organisation has changed – ‘the whole bunch of college-educated law-givers who had taken it into their heads to run the world according to their own little ideas’ (p3).

The face of the dead man was bludgeoned. However, Maigret recognises a tattoo. Eventually, the man is identified as a burglar who Maigret had interviewed on several times. Maigret’s superiors are eager to dismiss the killing as an underworld vendetta, something the police should not concern themselves with: ‘Let ’em kill one another, down to the last man. That’ll save the hangman trouble and the taxpayers money’ (p52). Besides, it was not his case. They were more anxious that he track down the perpetrators of several post office robberies.

As usual, there are a number of fine turns of phrase from Simenon; here’s one: ‘Typewriters clicked like falling hailstones’ (p105).

While leading his team to track down the robbers, Maigret also spends time on finding out who was responsible for killing the burglar. In his investigations he meets a number of interesting characters, all sympathetically described.

Editorial comment:

Maybe changed in translation, but I thought that capital punishment in France at the time was not by hanging but by guillotine (two were executed by this method in 1961). The death penalty was abolished in 1981, ratified in 2007.

MAIGRET IN COURT - Book review

Georges Simenon’s Maigret in Court was published in 1960 (translated 1965).

Chief Inspector Maigret, 55, is attending court to give evidence. A woman and her child were brutally murdered in their flat. The accused is the victim’s nephew, a quiet picture-framer, Gaston Meurant. He is fortunate to be appearing before Judge Xavier Bernerie, ‘the most scrupulous and the most passionate seeker of the truth. Thin and in poor health, his eyes feverish, with a dry cough, he resembled a saint in a stained-glass window’ (p2).

Meurant’s wife Ginette was in the witness box too: ‘underneath her make-up (she) had the paleness of women who live in a hothouse atmosphere’ (p44).

In philosophical mode, Maigret compared his appearance in court with that of his friend, Pardon, the local GP, who constantly bemoaned the limited time allocated to each patient. ‘Each patient is a separate case, and yet I have to work on the conveyor-belt system...’ (p49). While for Maigret in court there’s a need to be concise: ‘The number of the witnesses is reduced to the minimum, as are the questions that are put to them... The case is merely sketched in with a few strokes; the people concerned are no more than outlines, caricatures almost...’ (p50).

In the event, Maigret cannot reconcile the violent portrait the court paints with the man his investigation revealed.

We again meet Maigret’s long-suffering confederates Janvier and Lucas; and Maigret is looking forward to retiring in two years with his wife.

This, like many of his works, is a slim volume, yet it is steeped in the minutiae of police procedurals and court procedures in France and makes riveting reading.

Simenon was a literary phenomenon, writing over 400 novels; he wrote 75 Maigret novels and 28 short stories featuring the detective. Simenon died in 1989, aged 86.

PLAYING WITH COBRAS - Book review

 

Craig Thomas’s ninth Patrick Hyde thriller (of ten) Playing with Cobras was published in 1993.

MI6 agent-in-place Phillip Cass is having an affair with Sereena, one of India’s screen goddesses who also happens to be the wife of Mr V.K. Sharmar, the prospective new Prime Minister. V.K. has a powerful brother Prakesh who is a dangerous ‘Mr Fixit’.  Cass discovers that the Sharmars have only been able to finance their rise to prominence by smuggling drugs on a grand scale. Instead of merely killing Cass, the Sharmars frame him for the murder of Sereena with the intention of embarrassing Britain. Peter Shelley has taken over from Aubrey as DG and recruits Hyde to return to the fold to investigate Cass’s case. Cass was planning on taking a holiday in Australia with his girlfriend Ros but feels compelled to intervene on Cass’s behalf since Cass has previously saved his life! Hyde soon appreciates that Cass is innocent but before he can further put further questions to his fellow agent, Cass disappears.

The thriller is predominantly about Hyde and Ros getting involved in locating Cass and getting him out of the country, while in the process acquiring evidence about Cass’s innocence and the Sharmars’ drug activities.

Throughout, Thomas provides a great deal of colour and visual descriptions to put you in the scene.

He has a knack with detailed observation, too: ‘The flight deck lay on its side – like the broken egg in the Bosch painting, he thought: his imagination affected as if by some nervous tic rather than horror at the scene (of the terrorist-caused airplane crash). It was hundreds of yards away, cordoned off, surrounded by the ants of the accident investigators and the police’ (p48).

There’s plenty of tension and close shaves and the pace never lets up.

This thriller has more than enough thrills to please fans of the genre.

THE IGNORANCE OF BLOOD - Book review

 

This is the fourth – and final – book in Robert Wilson’s Inspector Jefe Javier Falcón detective series set primarily in Seville. The Ignorance of Blood was published in 2009.

It takes place in 2006 when a Russian mafia man is involved in a fatal traffic accident. In his car the police find a bag bulging with euros and video discs – stolen from a mafia gang, apparently.

Falcón is still trying to get to the bottom of a bomb explosion – was it terrorists or some other cause?  He is advised not to obsess about it. There are other cases to investigate: ‘Personal crusades, Javier, are not advisable in police work. Every old people’s home in Spain probably has a retired detective gaping from the windows, his mind still twisted around a missing girl, or a poor bludgeoned boy. Don’t go there. Nobody expects it of you’ (p41).

The Russian villains are particularly unpleasant – and seem to be competing gangs. ‘The veneer, though, was only an expensive suit thick, as Viktor Belenki was a violent brute with access to a rage so incandescent that even Revnik’s most psychopathic henchmen were afraid of him’ (p45).

The video discs implicate a number of very important individuals in the city and elsewhere; there are connections to shady constructors and financiers. Two mafia gangs want those discs.

Falcón covers a lot of familiar ground, including Atocha rail station, where three bombs were exploded on March 11, 2004; other bombs exploded on four trains; those responsible were members of al-Qaeda; over 190 people were killed and over 2,000 injured. (I recall it well; we were living in Spain at the time). However, the bomb explosion Falcón is investigating is not believed to be connected to that atrocity.

Still topical now, Falcón is faced with individuals being radicalised by Islamists. ‘Radical Islam was not something you changed your mind about. Once admitted to the close fraternity and their secrets there was no walking away. They wouldn’t let you’ (p81). Indeed, anyone joining becomes a ‘lost soul, walking a world of death, destruction and martyrdom’ (p86).

Falcón is drawn into the turf war between Russian factions when Dario, the son of Consuelo, his lover, is kidnapped. Are the kidnappers Russian or Islamists?

Along the way, he is faced with an imprisoned judge, a female sculptor in a bikini, and a Moroccan friend engaged in spying on an Islamist group for the Spanish security service. There are violent deaths, gruesome deaths, and a convoluted mystery that must be solved in Morocco.

Falcón has previously suffered from a breakdown, but now he is stressed and stretched to the point where not only is his job at risk, but also his life. Some chapters end with a nail-biting cliff-hanger.

The descriptions of Seville, the characters and the emotions are well delineated with powerful writing.

Although there are references to previous Falcón novels, the book can be read as a standalone. However, the Falcón books in order are: The Hidden Assassins, The Blind Man of Seville, The Silent and the Damned and The Ignorance of Blood.

THE INFORMATION OFFICER - Book review

 

This is the third book by Mark Mills – each one different in place and time. The Information Officer was published in 2009. It’s set in Malta in 1942 during the second great siege (the first being against the Turks in 1565). [The book brought back memories of the time my wife Jen and I lived in Rabat in 1974-75].

There are two maps – one of the Maltese islands with significant places shown; and a second of the Grand Harbour – which will prove helpful if you’re unfamiliar with Malta.

It begins (mistakenly in my opinion) in London, May 1951 with a viewpoint by a restaurant’s maître d’ with the hint of a spoiler. The real story begins in Malta, April 1942 when a young woman is murdered.

Major Max Chadwick is the Information Officer in Malta, responsible for reporting to the populace with suitable material to maintain morale. Max has a number of friends, among them Freddie, the medic who works out of Mtarfa hospital [I worked there in the 1970s; it’s now a school and apartments]; Elliott, an American serviceman; and Ralph, a cavalier pilot.

When Max is told that there have been three young women murdered yet the authorities seem to be hushing it up, he decides to do some private investigating himself. Digging around for clues is not easy for an amateur, granted, and it is made more difficult by the wartime conditions, notably the constant air raids.

The submarine base on Manoel Island, the Tenth Submarine Flotilla, was one of several targets for Italian and German bombers; inevitably, the airfields were prime targets too: Ta’ Qali, Hal Far and Luqa; and of course the many quaysides and docks of the Grand Harbour and its inlets. [Jen learned to drive in Malta and took her driving-test on the old airfield at Ta’ Qali].

Mills quickly immerses the reader in the place and period. ‘It was typical of many Maltese homes in that the unassuming façade gave no indication of the treasures that lay behind it’ (p21). [When living there we’d seen many examples of this.] He also has a fine turn of phrase: I liked his ‘bewilderment of bastions’ when describing Valletta.

‘…he accompanied her and her mangy dog to the Blessing of the Animals at the church of Santa Maria Vittoriosa’ (p130). [We’d seen these ceremonies in Malta and Spain].

‘… he’d been forced to crash-land in a field – a near-impossible thing to do on Malta without hitting a stone wall’ (p191). [Not much has changed with this overbuilt island].

‘The Point de Vue Hotel stood on the south side of the Saqqija, the leafy square separating Mdina and Rabat’ (p230). The hotel ‘took a direct hit during an afternoon raid, killing six’ (p230). [We enjoyed a splendid meal here].

He mentions the megalithic temples of Hagar Qim and Mnajdra (p243) and on the same page on Dingli Cliffs the primary Radio Direction Finding station is found there; [even now, though the spying is somewhat more sophisticated].

He conveys the absolute terror of living through intense bombing day after day. ‘The ground beneath him had bucked like a living thing, and all around him the air had rung to the tune of flying splinters, a lethal symphony of rock and metal overlaid by more obvious notes: the whistle and shriek of falling bombs, the thump and crump of explosions, the staccato bark of the Bofors firing back blind, and the screams of the diving Stukas’ (p43).

Intermittently, we are privy to the male murderer’s thoughts, jotted down in his notebook, though he remains faceless; a man without empathy, a thoroughly unpleasant specimen. The mystery of his identity is maintained almost to the end.

It was obvious that Mills did a lot of research for the story and highlights two of the many books he consulted: Malta Magnificent by Francis Gerard and Fortress Malta by James Holland. ‘Twice the tonnage of bombs dropped on London during the worst twelve months of the Blitz had rained down on their heads in the last two months alone’ (p61).

There are a couple of interesting choices of character names he has used:

Chadwick lakes are formed behind a number of dams constructed by Sir Osbert Chadwick, a British engineer, in the late 19th century.

Mabel Edeline Strickland was the editor of The Times of Malta before and during the war. Mills’s book The Savage Garden has a main character called Adam Strickland…

If you have any interest in wartime skulduggery or Malta, you should find the book a fascinating read.

I’d also recommend Malta: Blitzed but not Beaten by Philip Vella. And of course Nicholas Monsarrat’s The Kappillan of Malta.

Editorial comment.

Two characters go to see a film at the Rabat Plaza (p229). Jen and I often went to the Adelphi cinema in Rabat (sometimes twice a week!); according to the Old Cinemas in Malta Facebook group, Rabat has only ever had two cinemas – the Adelphi and the Astoria.

THE BURNING BRIDE - Book review

Margaret Lawrence’s final book in her Hannah Trevor historical trilogy, The Burning Bride, was published in 1998. I have been remiss in not reading it until now. 

This tale takes place between 6 November and 24 December 1786.

Widow midwife Hannah Trevor has always been an independent soul, even when wed to her unsavoury husband. So, even though she is pregnant by Daniel Josselyn, Major of the Continental Army, and a landowner, she is not committed to the betrothal. Yet, as circumstances begin to crush them all, she relents: ‘If marriage be a bond, I am ready to bear it. If love be a fire, I am already burnt’ (p269).

Daniel had once been the friend of Hamilton Siwall, but that was a long while back. 

Siwall is a land merchant, moneylender, magistrate and member of the General Court. When he tries debtors, he often acquires the offender’s land in settlement, continually extending his power and prestige. It seems that Siwall is keen to lay blame on Daniel for the slightest perceived infraction, and it is not long before the opportunity presents itself.

Marcus Tapp is the High Sheriff of the county and a creature of Magistrate Siwall. ‘Tapp’s eyes scanned the yard, missing nothing…Strange eyes, they were, so pale they seemed in daylight to have no colour at all, glass eyes that the world passed through without effect, to be recorded by the raw ends of his nerves’ (p23).

At this time there is a big issue regarding taxation among the townspeople of Rufford, Maine: ‘Tax upon tax had been laid on them, debts from a war that set rich men free to get richer, but ground out all hope from the labouring poor’ (p2). There are too many debtors; often the prison is bursting at the seams.

‘Rich men elected other rich men and they scratched one another’s backs like sleek cats and did not understand why poor men resented them, and any who resisted the growth of their power was labelled as traitors and fools. So it would be under governors and presidents, as it had been under kings and popes and caesars’ (p235). Anarchy does not seem too far off…

Another of Siwall’s creatures is the town’s local doctor, Samuel Clinch; he is a drunkard and a misogynist: ‘These country midwives are no more skilled than a witch with a broomstick, with their pawings and strokings! What does a woman know of such matters? Can she spell, sir? Can she read and write and cipher Latin like a man? No, she cannot! Women are soft for our pleasures, but they ain’t got the brains of a sheep where Science and babies is concerned!’ (p128). As implied, he is not averse to taking payment for his doctoring of female patients with pleasures of the flesh. Until, that is, he is found murdered in the forest. A mystery surrounds the violent death.

For different reasons, both Siwall and Tapp soon accuse Daniel of the murder, though there is little conclusive proof.

Hannah is kept busy with her midwife role. ‘It was always there at a borning, the spectre of dying, the other side of the treacherous coin of hope’ (p335). Yet, in reality, she would prefer to spend her time quilting and finally preparing for her wedding to Daniel. Several quilt patterns are named throughout the book: Bridges Burning, China Dish, Cross and Crown, Cradle in the Wilderness, Flame in the Forest, and Star of the Forest. Instead, she finds herself puzzling over the unpleasant doctor’s murder. That is, when she is not laying out the men who’d been sentenced to death by the loathed magistrate.

‘This is her work in the world, to reconcile living and dying. To wash away fear and shame and loneliness with a touch the dead must somehow feel where they stand watching, invisible, behind their window of clouded glass’ (p244).

Again, we meet Hannah’s deaf mute daughter Jennet, always depicted with compassion and eloquence. As before, Lawrence’s prose and imagery suck you into the story, and into the period:

‘A woodpecker rattled in the crown of an oak tree, and a flock of kinglets chattered as they flew from one tree to another, their scarlet crowns a flash of fire against the heavy hung branches. And now and then a limb creaked with the weight of slowly melting ice, and a burden of wet snow fell with a plop to the ground…’ (p398)

Here you will find poignancy, cruelty, anger, despair, injustice, love, hate, suspense, and tension aplenty.

A fitting end to an engrossing historical series. 

A COLD DAY FOR MURDER - Book review

Although Dana Stabenow had science fiction books published prior to this, A Cold Day for Murder (1992) was her debut crime novel – which happened to win an Edgar Award from the Crime Writers of America. There followed over twenty Kate Shugak Investigation crime books.

It’s set in Alaska. Kate is an Aleut investigator who has recently survived having her throat cut by a paedophile (now deceased). She previously had an affair with Jack Morgan, Anchorage’s DA. None of this we experience directly, as it’s flashback – much of it in nightmare form. In effect, there’s a lot of back-story presented, as if we’re diving in to another chapter in the series; still, it’s neatly done.  

After that brutal experience, it had taken her some time to recover from the trauma: ‘For fourteen months she had said nothing, had blunted every effort by every friend she had to get at the hurt, had pushed back the reckoning, and now here he was, Jack Morgan, her nemesis, her fate, the man who had hired her to deal every day of her working life with hurt, terrified defenceless children, who had loved her and asked, no, demanded that she love him in return, who had taken her rejection of himself, his job, his love and his world without apparent objection…’ (p116).

Jack calls upon her to find a missing National Park Ranger; and also seek the detective who had been sent earlier to find the ranger… Kate knows The Park, it’s her home turf, even if she abandoned it to get education and a career.

Kate has a slightly awkward number of relatives in the town of Niniltna; colourful, cranky, difficult and not particularly likeable... Perhaps too much emphasis was placed on the local colour in the text. However, Kate is an engaging character, plucky and stubborn. Sadly, for me, the arrival at the solution seemed rushed and a bit contrived. As the character is sustained over so many books, I suspect any perceived shortcomings noted here have been rectified in subsequent outings.

What sets this book apart from many other crime novels, and very possibly earned the award, is the local knowledge and feeling for Alaska.

If you like crime series, then you might want to consider diving in here and make up your own mind.

Editorial comment:

My copy (2013) oddly has a back cover blurb that doesn’t relate to the story at all. Oops, Head of Zeus… The blurb on Amazon is correct, however!

LAST CHANCE SALOON - Press Release

 

[#2 in the Bethesda Falls series - all self-contained stories!]

The Bethesda Falls stage is robbed and Ruth Monroe, the stage depot owner, is being coerced into selling up by local tycoon, Zachary Smith. Meanwhile, Daniel McAlister returns from gold prospecting to wed Virginia, the saloon’s wheel of fortune operator. Daniel hits a winning streak but is bushwhacked, his winnings stolen.

And newcomer to town, Horace Q. Marcy, seems to be playing a game close to his chest, too.

Virginia sees this romance with Daniel as her last chance of happiness and no matter what, she’s determined to stand by her man, ducking flying bullets if need be. Daniel and Virginia side with Ruth against Smith and his hired gunslingers.

Only a deadly showdown will end it, one way or another.

Amazon UK https://tinyurl.com/3sthcy8n

Amazon US https://tinyurl.com/aytn3cmu

***

The downhill swaying motion of the Bethesda coach dislodged Alfred Boddam and he fell forward, half-into the front boot, his arm crooked over the side-lantern, hand dangling and bashing against the flapping leather curtain.

‘What on earth’s happening?’ A passenger boldly peeled back the curtain and stared at Alfred’s limp hand. ‘Oh, dear Lord! Mr Boddam’s dead!’ he shrieked. ‘Nobody’s driving our coach!’

***

When Daniel McAlister entered The Gem saloon, Virginia Simone’s heart lurched against the fitted boned bodice of her red satin dress and she almost made a hash of triggering the concealed device under the roulette wheel.

Pulling her eyes away from the entrance with an effort, she turned back to her table and flicked the hidden lever to ensure that the House won. The ball bounced a few times and a couple of gamblers let out exclamations of surprise. But for Virginia it was no surprise at all. Yep, the House won when it mattered, when the stakes were high. She hated this part of her job, suckering the poor dupes just to line the pockets of owners Royce O’Keefe and Zachary Smith. Still your foolish pride, she told herself; it’s a job, and she was one of the best in the whole damned Dakota Territory.

***

Wading through the stream, Wolf Slayer came after him.

Daniel got to one knee, withdrew his knife and splashed water at the oncoming Indian’s face. As the Sioux warrior was deflected for a moment, Daniel sprang.

He grasped hold of the wrist of the Indian’s knife-hand and twisted harshly but the blade didn’t drop. Wolf Slayer grabbed Daniel’s wrist and simultaneously brought up a knee, thrusting it into Daniel’s belly. Daniel gasped, falling backwards, yet he managed to hold onto the Indian’s wrist and Wolf Slayer fell on top of him. The man’s breath was foul, but he imagined his own wasn’t much better.

The underwater rocks were smooth but unforgiving hard against his back. Spluttering, stream-water lapping round his face, Daniel felt his strength ebbing as Wolf Slayer thrust a knee on his chest, pressing down hard. It wouldn’t take long before his rib-cage broke under the pressure. Wolf Slayer’s free hand was clamped around Daniel’s throat, trying to force his head under water.

Review:  “This is one good read... not a typical western – it has character, humour and storylines with enough questions in the plot to maintain interest from beginning to end. Strongly recommended.”

Previously published by Robert Hale 2008 - now re-published as a paperback!

THE WORLD IS MADE OF GLASS - Book review - ADULT CONTENT

 

Morris West’s novel The World is Made of Glass was published in 1983. I was studying psychology in the early 1980s (Open University) and bought this since it was a fictional account of one of Carl Gustav Jung’s case histories. I’ve only now got round to reading it!

West was inspired by a very brief and incomplete record of a case in Jung’s autobiographical work Memories, Dreams , Reflections. As West states in his Note: ‘every novelist is a myth-maker. He quotes Jung: ‘I can only make direct statements, only “tell stories”, whether or not the stories are “true” is not the problem. The only question is whether what I tell is my fable, my truth”.’ [Maybe Meghan Markle has read this…!]

The story is told from two viewpoints: Magda Liliane Kardross von Gamsfeld, a beautiful, rich and intelligent woman of dubious morals, and Jung, her psychiatrist.

Jung is married to Emma who is thirty at this time and carrying their fifth child. Jung met her when she was sixteen and wanted to marry her. ‘I loved her then; I love her now; but love is a chameleon word and we humans change colour more quickly than the words we speak’ (p70). These guilt-ridden thoughts relate to his attractive assistant, Antonia Wolff (Toni), who happens to be his mistress.

One of Jung’s beliefs was that synchronicity has psychic foundations. ‘… coincidence, synchronicity, things happening at the same moment in time, without causal connection, but still closely related in nature… in the context of psychic experience’ (p90).

Jung is aware that what he practices is not scientific, ‘Because this sciences of ours, this medicine of the mind, is still in its infancy. The methods are tentative. The procedures are incomplete’ (p127). He’s quite honest with himself some of the time: ‘I lie, too, when it serves my purposes; but then we all lie in one fashion or another because we are not scientists always; we are soothsayers – dealing with arcane symbols and the stuff of dreams’ (p104). ‘My real exploration will be in the undiscovered country of the mind’ (p154).

At this time, 1913, Jung and Freud were at loggerheads and quarrelled professionally, notoriously. It is also when Jung was approaching the beginning of a protracted breakdown. ‘I’m like a leaf tossed in the wind. So, I have no choice but to let myself be swept along by these storms of the subconscious and see where, finally, they drive me’ (p127).

Most of the book is reported speech, either Magda or Jung reminiscing on their troubled past: Jung was raped as a young boy by a family friend; Magda was initiated into sex at an early age, notably incestuously with her father.

There is a battle of wills between the pair – and collateral damage is felt by both Emma and Toni. Symbolism of dreams is paramount to much of Jung’s exploration. Gradually, he learns about a terrible truth that Magda had concealed. This Magda is a figment of West’s imagination and conveyed with great empathy and skill. Inevitably, there are revelations of a sexual nature and sexual obsession and also murder and guilt.

The author’s ability to get into the minds of two disparate yet complementary individuals is a remarkable feat.

West first wrote a play about this relationship, and then followed it with this novel.

The book title is from Ralph Waldo Emerson’s Essays: ‘Commit a crime, and the earth is made of glass. Some damning circumstance always transpires.’