Robyn Reviews: Dog Rose Dirt

‘Dog Rose Dirt’ is the first crime thriller by Jen Williams, known for her adult fantasy trilogies ‘The Winnowing Flame’ and ‘The Copper Cat’. As a fan of ‘The Winnowing Flame’ series, I was curious how her writing would translate into crime fiction – and the answer is with aplomb. ‘Dog Rose Dirt’ is a gripping, dark crime thriller full of twists and atmosphere. To those familiar with the genre, many of the twists are predictable, but they’re brilliantly written, leaving this a fast-paced and enjoyable read.

Heather Evans has been almost estranged from her mother, Colleen, for years – but when her mother unexpectedly commits suicide, she’s forced back to her childhood home to put her affairs in order. There, she makes an alarming discovery – stacks of letters from the serial killer Michael Reave, otherwise known as the Red Wolf. Reave has been in prison for decades – but the letters take on a more sinister turn with the appearance of a copycat killer, borrowing Reave’s tableau of removing his victims’ hearts and decorating their bodies with flowers. Determined to figure out how her mother knew Reave – and why she might have committed suicide – Heather teams up with DI Ben Parker to interview Reave. However, he only talks in riddles. The more he says, the less Heather understands – and as mysterious things start happening at home, Heather starts to wonder if approaching the truth is putting her own life in danger.

Heather is a bit of a mess. Once a journalist, she’s been fired from her job and picks up odd bits of work as a freelancer. She has friends, but no serious relationships – and all her friends are worried about her. She’s self-centred, rash, and has terrible coping strategies – but she also has moments of brilliance, a keen wit that must have served her well as a journalist, and a knack for knowing when others are lying. She’s not necessarily a likeable protagonist, but she’s an intriguing one, and she feels incredibly real. Its hard at times to see what her friends see in her – she asks a lot without giving much back – but then, with her mother’s death, the loss of her job, and all the other upheavals going on in her life, its understandable that she sometimes forgets that everyone else has a life and responsibilities to.

The story is mostly from Heather’s perspective, with occasional cutaway chapters showing the victims of the new Red Wolf. This works well – it makes the atmosphere darker, humanising each victim by showing snippets of their lives. The cutaway chapters increase in frequency later in the book, adding to the sense of urgency in solving the puzzle and identifying the killer.

There isn’t so much an overarching plot as several closely intertwined threads. There’s the mystery of Heather’s mothers’ death – why such a seemingly stable woman would commit suicide. Then there’s the copycat killer – or possibly even the original killer, if Reave is as innocent as he claims. Finally, there’s Colleen’s relationship with Reave, and to what extent this ties into everything else. This all works seamlessly, moving at a rapid pace and remaining engaging throughout. Many of the twists are genre tropes, lending them an air of predictability, but the way they’re done is skillful and fits the story well. It would feel unnatural if they weren’t written that way.

This is a dark story. The atmosphere is one of the highlights – there’s a constant shadow hanging over every scene, a sense that things aren’t quite what they seem. There’s a lot of foreshadowing – too much in places, with twists that may otherwise have been a surprise becoming obvious – but it lends a sense of foreboding, the reader realising secrets that Heather hasn’t clocked yet. Those sensitive to graphic violence, death, desecration of a corpse, incest, coercion, and child abuse may want to avoid this, although it handles its subject matter well – never glorifying it, and never glossing over the impact.

Overall, ‘Dog Rose Dirt’ is an excellent entry to the crime thriller genre and showcases Jen Williams’ versatility as an author. Recommended for fans of dark, atmospheric crime thrillers, messy characters, and complex family relationships.

Thanks to NetGalley and Harper Collins for providing an eARC – this in no way affects the content of this review

Published by Harper Collins
Hardback: 22nd July 2021

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Book Review: Winterkill

Any crime fiction fans who have not yet read Ragnar Jónasson’s Dark Iceland series should rectify this as soon as possible. Set in the small town of Siglufjörður, northern Iceland, this is claustrophobic noir delivered with aplomb. The voice given to the protagonist, Ari Thór Arason, conveys much about the difficulties this young man faces in his personal life. By ‘showing not telling’ the focus of each book remains on the crime to be solved. It is refreshing to have intimate scenes presented without unnecessary, voyeuristic detail. Characters have depth and nuance but exist to provide tension and pace to the story.

In this, the final installment in the excellent series, Ari Thór is now a police inspector. He and a young rookie cop are the only employees based at the town’s police station – not a problem when crimes tend to be few and minor. Set over an Easter holiday weekend, the tale opens with the discovery of a teenage girl found dead in the street with a terrible head wound. Initial impressions are that she took her own life by jumping from the balcony of an adjacent building.

Early on we learn that Ari Thór is separated from his partner, Kristín, who has moved to Sweden with the couple’s son, three year old Stefnir. Kristín and Stefnir are due to visit Siglufjörður, to enable father and son to spend time together. Ari Thór’s work ethic had been a bone of contention in his relationship with Kristín so he is concerned that this new case will impinge on his plans for family time. He cannot, however, do his job without following all leads that come to light. 

The dead girl turns out to be the sheltered, only daughter of a couple who now live apart. The mother is convinced she knew everything about her daughter’s life. The father flies in from America to harangue Ari Thór about his handling of what happened. Neither parent believes their child would have committed suicide. They expect the inspector to uncover a murderer.

Meanwhile, an old man in a local care home writes a disturbing message on his bedroom wall. Is this connected to the recent death or is it something from his past, coming to light as his dementia muddles memory timelines?

Many of those Ari Thór questions come from families who have lived in Siglufjörður for generations. Although he has now worked in the town for seven years – during which time it has changed markedly as tourism increases – he still feels at times like an outsider. He is not familiar with the many familial links that have proved important in tying threads of past cases together. He misses his old boss, and is struggling to build the same rapport with his cocky, junior officer.

Ari Thór’s desire to spend time with his son must be balanced against his need to solve the case satisfactorily. With a violent storm approaching there is an undercurrent of impending crisis – difficult decisions to be made about the future. 

The writing is as well paced and engaging as previous installments in the series. The denouement is satisfying without compromising what has gone before.

I pick up little crime fiction these days as so much merged after reading and I prefer stand out books. The Dark Iceland series is an exception. Winterkill provides a Stygian story with a somehow hopeful conclusion for readers to enjoy.

My copy of this book was provided gratis by the publisher, Orenda Books.

Robyn Reviews: The Angel of the Crows

‘The Angel of the Crows’ is a very clever book, and enjoyable to read, but I’m not sure it quite diverges enough from its source material to stand up as a separate novel.

The premise is simple: a retelling of Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes stories, still set in Victorian London, if the supernatural also walked the Earth. Angels, vampires, werewolves, hellhounds, clairvoyants, curses – these are all part of everyday life. Dr Doyle – this book’s Dr Watson, in clear homage – has just returned from Afghanistan having been grievously wounded by the Fallen, a band of fallen angels. Seeking somewhere quiet to live, he bumps into Stanford, an old friend from medical school, who happens to know of someone else seeking shared lodgings. Enter the angel Crow – somewhat ostracised by his fellow angels and looking for a flatmate for a certain 221b Baker Street. From here, the stories proceed as we know them, with the addition of supernatural elements.

The writing feels uncannily like Conan Doyle’s style, which is very clever of Addison – I reread A Study in Scarlet for a direct comparison. I completely believe that this is how Conan Doyle would have written had he chosen a fantasy version of his stories. Similarly, the characters of Dr Doyle and Crow are much like their counterparts in the originals – although Dr Doyle is noticeably smarter and more perceptive than Dr Watson, and Crow, ironically, much more human than Sherlock Holmes. There are cameos from several other notable characters from Conan Doyle’s stories, and they too feel mostly authentic – with one exception, who I hope is developed further should this ever get a sequel.

I love the supernatural element. The mythology of the angels is clever and well-explained, with tidbits dropped in throughout. Each new being is introduced subtly, without a great deal of explanation, but this helps to their presence seem entirely normal. I would have been interested to see how their presence changed the development of London – and, indeed, of the world – but that isn’t the intent of this novel, and it isn’t required. Several of the supernatural beings are discriminated against – mostly illogically – and this is explored well, adding an extra dimension to the society created.

My main issue with this book is the choice to use the first few Sherlock Holmes stories as the plot. They’re cleverly rendered, staying very close to their source material with just a few adaptations to give a supernatural spin – but these stories have been adapted so many times it makes the book predictable. The setting is exceptional with the scope for far more interesting, fresh mysteries in the supernatural sects of London. I wish that Addison had chosen to create new mysteries rather than relying on paths well-trodden. To be fair to her, she did include one new plot element – capturing Jack the Ripper – but this has also been extensively written about before. None of these issues affect the enjoyment of the book, but they do give it a strong fanfiction feel rather than that of a published work.

Those who enjoy Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes stories, the BBC’s Sherlock (or at least the first two seasons), Lucy Liu’s Elementary, or any other adaptation will likely enjoy this. Similarly, those who have never dived into the Sherlock universe but like a good urban mystery or urban fantasy will probably love this. It’s very well written and a strong addition to all the adaptations out there – I just feel like there’s potential for it to be more than that.

Thanks to NetGalley and Rebellion for providing both an eARC and a finished copy of this book – this in no way affects the content of this review

Published by Rebellion
Hardback: 17th September 2020

Robyn Reviews: The Cheerleaders

The Cheerleaders is solid YA crime fiction. There are plenty of threads, making it difficult to guess exactly what the ending will be, and while some twists are predictable some take you by surprise. The final chapter neatly ties up loose ends and lets the reader decide for themselves whether justice was served.

The book follows Monica, the younger sister of Jen – one of five school cheerleaders who tragically passed away nearly five years ago. As the five year anniversary of the deaths approaches, Monica is dealing with struggles of her own – affairs, battling for her place on the dance team, keeping up her GPA – but a chance conversation leads her to make a discovery, and suddenly she isn’t sure that the right killer was apprehended.

Monica is a very accurate portrayal of a teenage girl dealing with major traumas. Frustrated and angry, she pushes everyone she knows away and struggles to care about her previous passions. She makes mistakes in attempts to feel genuine human connection and rebels against all her mum and stepdad’s attempts to keep her safe. Monica isn’t always a likeable protagonist, but it’s impossible not to feel sorry for her situation.

Most of the book is from Monica’s point of view, but there are occasional flashback chapters from Jen’s, adding intrigue and context. Unlike Monica, who is popular for being the attractive dancer rather than for her personality, Jen is a genuinely lovely person. The flashbacks turn her from someone considered a saint – after all, who would speak ill of a dead girl – into an ordinary teenager with her own issues. Dealing with squabbles with her friends, a new girl on the cheerleading squad, and the most unsuitable guy in school crushing on her, Jen’s life makes it clear that there might have been multiple people wanting the cheerleaders dead after all.

There’s nothing groundbreaking about this book. The characters are relatively well-developed, the plot well-constructed, the high school dynamics believable – but it never steps out of the safety of standard YA crime tropes. It’s also, for a book being published in 2020, lacking in diversity. That being said, there’s nothing particularly unlikeable about this book either – it’s a fast read that pulls you in, and it’s difficult to connect the dots before the book wants you to. I also appreciated that there was no unnecessary romance – Monica isn’t in the right place for a relationship and has too much to do juggling her normal life with trying to find out what really happened to her sister and the other cheerleaders.

Overall, this is good without being great – a solid read for fans of YA crime novels that doesn’t do anything new but executes the standard tropes of the genre well.

 

Thanks to NetGalley and Macmillan Children’s for providing an eARC – this in no way affects the contents of this review

 

Published by Macmillan Children’s
Paperback: 3rd September 2020

Robyn Reviews: The Killings at Kingfisher Hill

The Killing’s at Kingfisher Hill was my first introduction to Sophie Hannah’s ‘New Hercule Poirot Mysteries’, although I’ve always been a big fan of Agatha Christie’s originals. I was pleasantly surprised how similar the voice was to Christie’s. Continuing the legacy of an author after their death is a difficult line to walk, but I can see why Christie’s estate have allowed Hannah to continue to write about Poirot.

The story opens with a luxury coach trip. Poirot and his loyal companion, Scotland Yard’s Detective Catchpole, have been summoned to investigate the murder of Frank Davenport by his brother, Richard, at Kingfisher Hill. Richard’s fiancé, Helen, has confessed to the murder – but Richard is adamant that his fiancé is innocent. She is due to be hanged in ten days, so Poirot must act quickly to identify the correct killer. However, the drama starts on the coach, with a woman declaring that she has received death threats for sitting in a certain seat, and a different woman confessing to Poirot that she herself has previously killed a man – and gotten away with it.

As with all Poirot stories, the facts seem murky, with many disjointed players and occurrences, but are eventually brought together at the end. The narration – by the trusty Catchpole – is clear and enjoyable, moving at a rapid pace with plenty of twists and turns – some predictable and some not. The flow of the story felt exactly like an original Poirot story, even if some of Poirot’s characterisation sometimes differed a little – but this brought a fresh element rather than feeling out of place. I particularly enjoyed a scene between Poirot and an elderly woman he had to interview – it was where he was the least traditionally Poirot-like, but it was a beautifully described and rather amusing scene and made me like her character immensely. (To say more would be a spoiler, but I’m sure you’ll understand what I mean if you read it).

The weakest part of this book was the ending. It tied everything up more-or-less neatly, but it wasn’t quite as polished or satisfactory as the endings to most Poirot books I’ve enjoyed. That being said, it was very cleverly done, and while I had guessed some parts the precise details were a surprise – always a sign of a good crime novel. Perhaps I simply hadn’t connected to all of the characters enough to appreciate the ending – or perhaps I am viewing this with a more critical eye, knowing that it is not the work of the original author.

Overall, I enjoyed this and would recommend it to all Agatha Christie fans. Go in with an open mind – I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.

 

Published by Harper Collins
Hardback: 20 August 2020

Book Review: Bury Them Deep

I started reading this crime thriller on a recent stormy weekend when I wished to curl up with a book I could immerse myself in. A few hours later I commented on Twitter: “Plucked some crime fiction from my TBR pile and am reminded once again why this genre, when well written, is so popular with readers”. I was looking forward to getting back to the story the following day.

Unfortunately, by then, I was around 200 pages into what is, in proof form at least, a 450 page tome. The pace from here became glacial. Dinner parties were being detailed along with a trip to an art exhibition. Whilst I enjoyed the take-downs of pseudo-intellectuals trying too hard to impress, I was trying to work out why these scenes were needed. I feared they were there as filler. Twitter confirmed that certain genre writers are contracted by the big publishers to submit manuscripts containing a prescribed number of words.

Don’t get me wrong, I can enjoy crime fiction. Sarah Hilary, for example, may structure her books using a recognisable formula but her writing and plot development contain enough depth and interest to take a reader’s mind off this. I’m certainly not going to criticise the quality of James Oswald’s writing. It is polished and, as I mentioned, contains injections of humour. My problem with Bury Them Deep was that it felt bloated. Eventually, with 50 pages to go, I just wanted it to end.

The story is set in and around Edinburgh, a place I love to visit. It opens with a local legend – the tale of Sawney Bean who, for 25 years in the 16th century, headed a clan of incestuous cannibals, before they were captured and executed without trial. Following this is a chapter introducing an unnamed woman as she heads out for a Friday night of sex with strangers. Her story is subsequently interspersed with that of the various police investigations the protagonist, Detective Chief Inspector Tony McLean, is required to lead.

This is the 10th novel featuring Inspector McLean and the first I have read. There are references throughout to what I assume are his previous cases which are intriguing. The plot of Bury Them Deep does, however, hold up when read standalone.

In this tale, DCI McLean’s team is a small part of Operation Caterwaul, a high security, global investigation into unnamed, high profile, powerful individuals. Details are shared on a strictly need to know basis. When one of Tony McLean’s team goes missing – a long serving admin assistance named Anya Renfrew – there is consternation amongst his superiors who fear they will be blamed for what could be a catastrophic security breach. Tony is more concerned about Anya’s safety.

It is agreed that locating Anya is a high priority task, even if for differing reasons. Tony allocates resources to interviewing those who knew her and working out where she could have been since last seen. He discovers that the quietly competent admin assistant had unimagined secrets. He ignores the paperwork his rank is supposed to deal with and heads out into the field.

Into the mix are added a couple of young teenagers, one of whom enjoys setting fire to things. There is also an inmate of a secure psychiatric unit with whom Tony has history. Emma, Tony’s wife, is demanding that he pay her more attention. Through Emma, Tony is reintroduced to a Forensic Anthropologist he knew as a teenager.

All of these characters play their roles. Ancient, and not so ancient, bones are uncovered. Trails that may lead to Anya are followed. A retired detective takes an active interest in the direction the investigation is taking. The unnamed woman is being put through hell.

There are more references to the relentless hot weather than I found necessary although it is significant. Perhaps my problem with plot development was that everything seemed obvious from early on so I was waiting for the story to catch up and fill in the details. This took more words than I felt were required, certainly more than held my interest.

I rather liked the ending although, as with much of the way Tony worked, it appeared highly unprofessional. There were several threads that, having finished the book, made me wonder why they were included. Perhaps I would have enjoyed the story more had I read previous installments in the series.

Other reviewers have described this as a page-turner. I would be interested to know if crime fiction fans want their books to be the length the big publishers provide. Personally I prefer my fiction to be taut and compelling, or offering prose so exquisite it is simply a joy to savour. Bury Them Deep was not a book for me.

My copy of this book was provided gratis by the publisher, Wildfire.

Book Review: Casanova and the Faceless Woman

“However scientific our cast of mind, it always comes down to this, does it not? […] How to get rich and remain forever young. The universal dream of mankind.”

Casanova and the Faceless Woman, by Olivier Barde-Cabuçon (translated by Louise Rogers LaLaurie), is crime fiction set in and around Paris and the Palace of Versailles a few decades before the French Revolution. Its protagonist is Volnay, a serious young man living in frivolous, dangerous times. Granted the title, Inspector of Strange and Unexplained Deaths, after he saved the life of King Louis XV, the local police chief does not appreciate Volnay’s incursion into what he regards as his territory.

Volnay works with a disgraced monk who has an interest in and keen knowledge of the latest scientific thinking. He examines the bodies of the dead in an attempt to uncover clues as to how they met their end. This is the age of enlightenment, although there is wider interest in associated gossip, along with wild exaggeration, than in deduction and proof.

The story opens with the discovery of a body – a mutilated young woman. The skin on her face, palms and fingertips has been removed. When Volnay arrives at the crime scene he is dismayed to find it was the renowned philanderer, Casanova, who first came across the victim. Casanova watches as Volnay removes a letter from the woman’s clothing and is then intrigued when the policeman claims it fell from his sleeve.

This letter proves key to the investigation. Influential and shadowy figures are eager to read what it contains as it affects the dissolute and capricious King. His Majesty’s detractors are seeking ways to bring down the monarchy. Others advise caution until those who would grasp power after such a revolution may be put in place.

Casanova regards his involvement in the investigation as another entertainment, especially when a beautiful young aristocrat, Chiara, shows an interest. Volnay is also drawn to the girl and this unlikely trio find they must share secrets if the case is to be solved and the reason the letter is so sought after understood.

Then another young woman is found dead, with her face removed, this time outside a property used by the King to meet with the young girls he favours. Despite the similarities in the victims’ demises, Volnay is perplexed by the differences. With his life endangered from multiple sources, he discovers that trusting Chiara may have been a mistake.

Although this is crime fiction it will appeal to those who enjoy vividly depicted historical fiction. There are sumptuous descriptions of dress and setting, of food consumed and the decadent lifestyles of those who found favour within the Palace of Versailles at this time. Their wealth and privilege may be contrasted with the dangers lurking in the dark and dirty streets of Paris where penury is widespread. Small coins are earned by whatever means necessary to survive, with little loyalty. Death is common and rarely investigated. Punishments are brutal, meted out to those who would not assist powerful figures whose spies are everywhere.

Volnay is an interesting character although I regarded the romantic element of his story an unnecessary distraction. Casanova’s role is well developed – the reasoning behind his behaviour credible even if his performance abilities are overplayed. As I have little interest in dress and lavish furnishings I found the pace unduly slow due to the many details. It also disheartened me to consider the risks people take with their health in order to achieve what is widely accepted as beauty.

“Nothing of all this was real, or true. It was all a carefully maintained illusion.”

Although well written and structured there were too many elements within the story that personally irritated. I grew tired of the lily white skin, rustling silk and gleam of gilt furnishings. I was curious about the science until the unlikely denouement – again, this flight of imagination felt unnecessary (authors are, of course, free to write as they choose).

For those with an interest in the lifestyles of the wealthy the tale offers a colourful portrayal. Centuries later plutocrats are still seeking personal advantage over the greater good of scientific discovery. Aging is rarely regarded as a privilege with outward beauty highly valued. I may well be taking an entertainment too seriously, but I found this tale depressing.

My copy of this book was provided gratis by the publisher, Pushkin Vertigo.

 

Book Review: Never Be Broken

Never Be Broken, by Sarah Hilary, is the sixth and possibly final instalment in the author’s Marnie Rome series of crime thrillers. It opens with DI Rome attending a crime scene – the wreckage of a car that is stained with the blood of her colleague, Noah Jake. The timeline then moves back forty-eight hours leaving the reader to ponder if a favourite character from the series has been killed.

DS Jake is receiving counselling following the murder in prison of his brother, Sol. Noah feels responsible for Sol’s incarceration. Despite knowing it must be his subconscious speaking, Noah is haunted by his brother’s ghost. He is reluctant to lose even this tenuous link and refuses to speak of it to anyone.

Marnie’s crime team are investigating the growing number of deaths of children from London’s less than salubrious estates. There are links to drug dealing, the supply of knives and guns, and perhaps even people trafficking. When the latest victim, a white girl named Raphaela Belsham, is gunned down in Muswell Hill close to her parent’s expensive home, questions are asked about possible links to the run-down high rises where the dark skinned victims lived. Raphaela’s father is furious at the suggestion that his privileged daughter could have been caught up in any form of criminal activity.

The police are widely regarded as either incompetent or the enemy. Belsham blames people of colour for the country’s ills. When Marnie takes Noah along to question the Belshams about Raphaela, her father’s anger and racism manifest. He accuses Noah of planting evidence.

Much of the action revolves around Erskine Tower, a block of flats within sight of the fire damaged Grenfell. The residents include the elderly who have lived there for decades and younger people caught up in the escalating violence. Raphaela had been a visitor to the tower as part of a supervised school project. Her level of supervision comes under scrutiny.

Although following the fast moving, tense and twisty structure of many compelling crime fiction novels, the author digs deeper into complex issues raised. This is skilfully done, never compromising effortless reader engagement. Her use of language is impressive conjuring the tastes, sounds, smells and feel of challenging locations. Shocking events are presented to the reader in high definition.

The denouement is violent and rendered without compromise whilst avoiding sensationalism. There are several heart palpating moments involving key characters. There is a nagging fear throughout that the author will kill her darlings – she has ensured that the reader cares.

This is a tenacious and troubling exploration of the many colours of life existing beneath the shiny veneer of our capital city. It is crime fiction at its best.

My copy of this book was provided gratis by the publisher, Headline. 

Book Review: Vanish in an Instant

Vanish in an Instant, by Margaret Millar, is an old time crime thriller set in small town America’s mid west. First published in 1952 it needs to be read with an awareness of attitudes at the time. The women all appear to be looking for a husband, the men for a woman who takes care of her appearance. A new romance that blossoms was the one aspect I couldn’t make sense of in what is otherwise a carefully crafted tale.

The story opens with a concerned mother, Mrs Hamilton, flying into town to help her married daughter, Virginia, who is being held at the county jail following a murder. Virginia, was picked up by local police, seriously drunk and covered in the blood of the victim. They had been out together the night before. Virginia cannot remember anything about what happened at the cottage where the body of the married man was found.

A local lawyer, Eric Meecham, has been called in by Virginia’s husband, Paul. Mrs Hamilton takes an instant dislike to Eric. The mother is resentful that her son-in-law hasn’t managed to prevent the possibility of such a situation occurring. She appears overbearing but not entirely surprised at developments.

Before Eric can make progress with uncovering what happened, a witness appears whose evidence allows Virginia to walk free. Late night meetings and a series of unhappy marriages bring with them the whiff of dodgy deals. A further death takes Eric out of town where he becomes embroiled in the well being of an elderly alcoholic who the second victim was trying to help.

There are the requisite twists and blind alleys as the affected families and those associated with them reveal their links to both victims. Eric appears content to work without payment, despite it being offered on numerous occasions, as he follows leads and tries to uncover the truth of a sorry situation.

The writing flows and the plot is well structured. The denouement provides answers to the puzzle with the scattered clues now making sense. The era evoked brings to the fore the dissatisfaction and frustrations of, particularly, the female characters. This may be old time crime – lacking forensic analysis and effective, dogged police work –  but it offers a window into sociological aspects that are still not as distant as many of us desire.

My copy of this book was provided gratis by the publisher, Pushkin Vertigo.

Book Review: Trap

Trap, by Lilja Sigurðardóttir (translated by Quentin Bates), is the second novel in the author’s Reykjavik series of crime thrillers. I have not read the first. While the story holds together as a standalone I wondered if the limited backstory, which brought new readers up to speed, contributed to my inability to sympathise with any of the characters. Perhaps had I better understood how they ended up in the difficulties they must now face I would have felt more concern over their fates. It is hard to care for drug runners and murderers no matter how much they love those dear to them.

Opening in April 2011, in a trailer park in sunny Florida, Sonja wakes from an unplanned nap to realise that her young son, Tómas, is not where she expected. The pair are on the run from Adam, the boy’s father. He is furious that Sonja has thus far evaded him.

Forced to return to Iceland and resume her job as a drugs courier, Sonja contacts her former lover, Agla, for assistance. Neither of the women appear to understand what the other works as. Theirs is an unbalanced relationship based on sexual attraction – a driving lust and its associated jealousies.

Following the financial crash Agla’s money laundering activities are under investigation. What the authorities are unaware of is their size and reach. Needing to clear a large debt she schemes with others working the financial markets to pull off a lucrative deal. She has many associates who will benefit, operating in powerful places.

As both women call on their contacts in an attempt to extricate themselves from official attention and underworld danger, their games of cat and mouse are surveilled by circling predators. Agla’s activities have come under scrutiny from a diligent investigator at the special prosecutor’s office. Sonja finds herself caught between drug barons vying for power on both sides of the Atlantic, including Adam who is using Tómas as leverage. Even when supposed kingpins are taken down there is always another ready to step into the vacated space.

It is not hard to believe that this is how the mega wealthy operate, and that they will always have minions seeking to increase their personal power and influence by whatever means. The observations on the men involved – driven by ego and unwilling to admire any woman’s superior contribution to their business – were familiar.

Sonja’s strength and resilience were sometimes irritatingly erratic – perhaps this was an attempt to make her appear more human by showing occasional weakness.

Agla misunderstands love, associating it with some form of ownership and control, as did Adam. Despite being clear headed and capable in business she too suffers weaknesses – her egocentric attitude to Sonja, and cocaine.

The writing and structure maintain the tension as each character takes risks and encounters danger. The movement of drugs and money is portrayed as beyond the control of authority – above the law due to the influence of the globally wealthy. Although the story held my interest and attention I found this, and the way key characters were willing to behave in extremis, somewhat depressing to read.

My copy of this book was provided gratis by the publisher, Orenda.