Chilled to the Bone

From StarTwo.

Review by DAPHNE LEE

CITY OF BONES

By Michael Connelly

Publisher: Orion, 448 pages

(ISBN: 978-0446611619)

IN THE early hours of New Year's Day, detective Harry Bosch is asked to look into the discovery of what appears to be the arm bone of a child. Bosch is sceptical. However, further investigation not only confirms that the bone is a child's; it unearths more bones, scattered in a shallow grave near a residential area. What's more, the remains, which appear to have been interred for at least 20 years, bear the marks of long-term physical abuse.Bosch is assigned the case and attacks it with his usual sense of doom. This guy has a past – as fans of Connelly's other books about the Los Angeles Police Department veteran know – and it shows. In this instance, the taciturn cop is reminded of his own, troubled childhood – Bosch was an orphan, spent his adolescence in a series of foster homes and knows just how unfriendly life can be to an unwanted child. His latest investigation hits close to home, and the search for the killer of the abused boy seems like an opportunity to heal old wounds and settle personal scores.

For all the angst of its central character, City Of Bones views its subject matter with a cold objectivity befitting the genre. In the character of Bosch, the line between problematic cop and no-nonsense lawman is a thin and blurry one, but even a maverick with a nose for trouble is subject to rules of conduct and departmental red tape.

For those who enjoy the technical side of police work, Connelly's previous experience as a crime beat journalist for the Los Angeles Times enables him to deliver accurate details of criminal investigation procedure and protocol, as well as portray, with gritty realism, the intricacies of inter-department politics and its ability to help or hinder the handling of a case.

Nonetheless, Connelly's main strength is to give official policy a human face and he does this by creating characters that are strongly drawn, skilfully fleshed out individuals who are, believably, thinking, feeling parts of the system and not just its fictional puppets.

Connelly's body of work will appeal to anyone who enjoys true-crime non-fiction and also appreciates the beauty of multi-faceted characters that would hold their own in stories totally unrelated to the ones they were actually written for.

City Of Bones features several fascinating creations, notably Julia Brasher, Bosch's enigmatic new love-interest; Paul Guyot, the lonely retired doctor whose dog found the buried bone; and Nicholas Trent, the murder suspect whose unsavoury history leads, unexpectedly, to the salvation of others.

These characters help keep the story moving; they capture the reader's interest and imagination so that you race through the book not only to discover the identity of the killer, but also to learn more about the others involved in the case. Even if you are the sort who likes maximum action and minimum reflection, you will find the writing consistently taut and fast-paced, with short chapters, snappy, realistically-phrased conversations, and to-the-point descriptive passages.

There are times when Connelly lets you into Bosch's mind, but you are more often looking over his shoulder as he makes his moves, advances and retreats, trips up or gets thrown a loop. By and large, Bosch is one step ahead of the reader. Nevertheless, the conclusion, case-wise, isn't exactly a huge surprise, and neither is the decision Bosch makes at the book's end.

If you've been following his career over eight or so titles, you'll agree it's a natural progression that makes perfect sense. But if this is your first Bosch novel, well at least you have seven others to look forward (or backward) to.

Not Traditional

From StarTwo

Review by DAPHNE LEE

THE INSPECTOR BANKS SERIES: AFTERMATH
By Peter Robinson
Publisher: Pan, 352 pages
(ISBN: 978-0330489348)

IF YOU'RE of the opinion that nothing beats a moody British cop, then Inspector Banks should be your cup of tea. Peter Robinson's series of murder mysteries, set in North Yorkshire, follows the trials and triumphs of Alan Banks. But Robinson is no formulaic writer: the series' central characters may be the same, but each book presents a case of varying complexity, with each story approached from a different angle and every recurring character revealing new layers to their personality.

Aftermath, the 11th Banks mystery, did not even begin life as part of the series, which proves that Robinson is not given to trotting out made-to-measure crimes for his protagonist to solve. In his official website, the author describes the origins of the story (inspired by actual serial murders in Canada, where he resides, and in England) and how it developed, from a close study of the results of physical and sexual abuse on the lives and behaviour of individuals to an exploration, of the same, from a wider, social perspective that necessitated the involvement of the authorities ... and detective Chief Inspector Banks.

Aftermath is, thus, not a traditional whodunit. The emphasis is rather on ''why'' and ''how''.

The scene is set when the police answer a call reporting a domestic violence. However, what they discover is a much more heinous crime. A woman lies bloody and unconscious, but in the cellar of the house, a teenaged girl is found, tied, beaten and dead. It appears that the police have uncovered the lair of a wanted serial killer called The Chameleon, and just as the truth hits them, the murderer attacks. The ensuing violence results in one of the police officers acting in a manner that will put her career and sanity on the line, and leaves her partner dead and the killer in a coma.

For Banks, who is heading the investigation, the apprehension of the murderer opens a whole new can of worms. The man, Terence Payne, appears to be a respected schoolteacher at a local comprehensive. No one would have guessed that he was capable of such dark deeds as the abduction, rape, torture and murder of five young women, one of who was a student of his.

But what about his wife who was found unconscious on the scene? Banks is unwilling to accept that Lucy Payne was oblivious to the fact that her cellar was used as a torture chamber and burial ground, all the more so when questioning reveals an enigmatic, secretive facade and hints at a manipulative personality lurking behind the guise of an abused and ignorant wife. In addition, there is the case of Janet Taylor, the police constable who will have to be investigated for assaulting Terence Payne. In this matter, Banks is torn between the law and his conscience, protocol and populist sentiment. Fully aware that the public would probably view Payne's death as poetic justice, Banks is, however, forced to launch an inquiry into the officer's actions.

For readers who are familiar with Banks, the ongoing exploration and development of the character must be part of the attraction of Robinson's novels, not least because his personality and personal life most realistically colour his actions and reactions. The fact that Banks's professional integrity is never compromised has as much to do with his personal beliefs, as with his role as a fictional hero. And his instincts, based equally on cool logic and inexplicable gut feeling, are frequently proven wrong. Banks, in short, is a wholly believable character - complex, fallible, human.

Robinson does add some extra touches which, to me, are a little predictable and old hat, like Banks's enjoyment of classical music (do all fictional British detective inspectors have to prove that they are of more romantic, tragic stock than their colleagues through their taste in music? And why classical? Is it supposed to reflect a more cultured, intellectual and superior taste?) and a pretty turbulent love life, although this may be a genuine job hazard.

Still, Banks is one of the more accessible characters in the genre - more sympathetic than Morse (Colin Dexter), more attractive than Adam Dalgliesh (P.D. James), and less egotistical than Thomas Lynley (Elizabeth George).

In Aftermath, he is faced with an arguably darker, more disturbing situation than any of the others have. It is his relentless objectivity and persistence that lead the investigation to greater depth, uncovering vital evidence that have lain hidden for years and would have been ignored but for his refusal to compromise and accept the most convenient solutions.

Robinson handles the subject matter (abuse, both sexual and physical, towards both children and adults) with objectivity and stark realism. He is never unnecessarily graphic in his description, but neither does he shirk from presenting the facts baldly and boldly. Reading about such a case in a newspaper would be difficult enough, without the in-depth examination and acquaintance of victims and perpetrators a fictional novel affords.

As difficult as it is to stomach some of the novel's contents, Aftermath is a compelling and rewarding read, highlighting the fact that the effects of a crime may be so far-reaching that although the criminals have been brought to justice, the damage they have done is merely the beginning of a long, painful journey that will claim many more victims before it runs its course.