Nighthawking by Russ Thomas

This is Russ Thomas’ second novel, and an eagerly awaited sequel to his debut, Firewatching. Once again, we’re in Sheffield with DS Adam Tyler. He’s still heading up the cold case team, but now has a protégé in the guise of DC Mina Rabbani (who was in uniform in Firewatching but has since gained a spot in CID), but it isn’t long before they’re both seconded to a murder inquiry when the body of a woman is discovered buried in the city’s botanical gardens.

The body was unearthed by a nighthawker, a metal detectorist, but one willing to trespass on private land and at night, and keep or not declare their finds. This is a major theme running through the book (hence the title) and several characters are members of a detectorist group and keen nighthawkers. It quickly becomes apparent that the woman is linked to the group and that one or more members might have something to do with her murder. Muddying the water is the fact she was a Chinese national and the daughter of a powerful figure within the Chinese Communist Party, and that she might have been involved in some kind of smuggling operation.

While part of a series, Nighhawking could be read as a standalone. That said, it is far more enjoyable if read after the author’s debut. The events of Firewatching have left their mark on several characters, and it is easier to understand some of their motivations if you know what they went through in the previous title.

Firewatching was an impressive debut and made something of a splash when published. There’s always a concern that the “curse of the second novel” will strike when a debut novelist has made such a mark, but Russ Thomas has no such concerns on that front. Nighthawking is a fantastic follow up, both brilliantly plotted and brilliantly told. This is a great book and I look forward to reading the third in the series whenever Russ is ready to unleash it on the book-reading public.

4 out of 5 stars

The Last House on Needless Street by Catriona Ward

 

Ted lives in a dilapidated house with his daughter, Lauren, and his cat, Olivia. Their house is at the end of an ordinary street called Needless Street (hence the title) but the windows are all secured with wooden boards, with just small holes drilled into them to see out of. A decade before, a girl called Lulu went missing from a nearby lake, and her family broke apart as a result: the mother walked out on them; the father died of a broken heart; Lulu’s sister, Dee, was left alone with her guilt and self-recrimination. Now Dee believes that Laura (who she hasn’t seen yet, but has heard Ted talking to) is Lulu, and Ted is the man who abducted her sister all those years before. She’s intent on finding the evidence, bringing Ted to some kind of justice, and rescuing her sister.

As least that’s what we think is going on. This is a twisty-turny Gothic horror chiller, told from a variety of perspectives, not least that of the cat, Olivia. While the set up seems straightforward at the start, it isn’t long before readers are unsure of their footing. All the people in the book are unreliable narrators, to use that overused term, and revelations come aplenty as the narrative unfolds.

The Last House on Needless Street has received much praise, not least from Stephen King. The film rights have been optioned and it will come to screens shortly, I’m sure. But I have to say, this novel really didn’t do it for me. I really wanted to enjoy this book, not least because all the buzz told me I should - The Times Thriller of the Month, an Observer Thriller of the Month, a Guardian 2021 in books pick, a Waterstones March 2021  pick, a Red Magazine March 2021  pick, a Refinery 29th March 2021 pick - the list is exhaustive. But I’m afraid to say this book just left me cold. It never seemed to know what it wanted to be - gothic horror? crime thriller? - and I found all the twists and turns confusing.

It was an enjoyable enough read, and lots of people will disagree of course (they already do, look at the plaudits), but for me it just didn’t work.

3 out of 5 stars

The Disappearing Act: The Impossible Case of MH370 by Florence de Changy

The disappearance of Malaysia Airlines Flight 370, with all its 239 passengers and 12 crew, is one of the strangest aviation mysteries of modern times. How could a modern airliner vanish from thin air? The mystery is both jaw-dropping, and in a world where air travel is ubiquitous and something we all take for granted (at least prior to COVID-19, and hopefully in the future too) disconcerting and horrifying. It’s never really been explained, though there is an official narrative of sorts after various inquiries.

In this book, Florence de Changy, a French journalist and foreign corespondent for Le Monde, painstakingly challenges the official narrative of pilot suicide (along with various conspiracy theories) and claims instead the plane was shot down. It’s a great piece of investigative work, and she sources her claims with endnotes in every chapter. 

The problem I have with her work is there is an equally convincing long form article in The Atlantic by William Langewiesche, which argues precisely and convincingly for the suicide theory. Similarly, Blaine Gibson, a man who has found over half the verified pieces of MH370 wreckage to be recovered so far, supports the suicide theory and dismisses this book as a conspiracy theory.

So, as often happens in a world of information at our fingertips, unless the reader conducts the investigation for themselves (and I don't mean reading random Facebook posts and watching Youtube videos, but actually doing the investigative work that Florence de Changy and William Langewiesche presumably have), they’re left unsure who to believe. The two conflicting, and to a layperson, equally convincing, theories about the fate of MH370, are perfect analogies of our times. As someone old enough to remember the dawn of the digital age, I recall being told the internet and social media would empower us with information. In fact, the reverse has happened, and we suffer information overload.

I literally do not know who to believe, Florence de Changy or William Langewiesche; the narrative put forward in this impressively crafted book, that the plane was shot down, or that in the equally impressive Atlantic article, that the pilot or co-pilot committed suicide with all on board. 

4 out of 5 stars

Untraceable by Sergei Lebedev

 

The blurb of this book reads: "Professor Kalitin is a ruthless, narcissistic chemist who has developed an untraceable, extremely lethal poison called Neophyte while working in a secret city on an island in the Russian far east. When the Soviet Union collapses, he defects and is given a new identity in Germany. After an unrelated Russian is murdered with Kalitin's poison, his cover is blown and he's drawn into the German investigation of the death. Two special forces killers with a lot of Chechen blood on their hands are sent to silence him – using his own undetectable poison. Their journey to their target is full of blunders, mishaps, holdups and accidents."

As someone who reads a lot of crime fiction and thrillers, and someone who is very interested in politics and current affairs, I really, really, really wanted to like this book. It sounded perfect for me. Unfortunately though, I just couldn’t. I don’t know if it’s the translation or just the author wanted to write in a literary style, but I found this book plodding and dull. I’m perfectly happy for characters to self-reflect, but here the self-reflections go on for pages and pages and pages. What promised to be a great story was weighed down and saggy.

2 out of 5 stars

Hotel Cartagena by Simone Buchholz

 

This is the fourth novel in this excellent series and our protagonist, Public Prosecutor Chastity Riley, is celebrating a friend’s birthday with friends and colleagues (all regulars from previous titles) in a hotel bar when twelve heavily armed men pull out guns, and take everyone hostage. Among the hostages is Konrad Hoogsmart, the hotel owner, who is the target of the raid and the reason for the hostage taking.

Hotel Cartagena differs from the previous titles, which were much more police procedurals (albeit Chastity being a prosecutor, but that’s how it works in European legal systems where the prosecution is involved to a greater extent in directing the investigation than in the UK and America where investigations are the preserve of the police). Hotel Cartagena is different in that our protagonist and her colleagues are hostages and thus are much more passive. Instead, they witness all that transpires, and the story is told much more from the lead hostage taker’s point of view, with chapters alternating between the present day hostage crisis (and told from the hostages point of view) and chapters narrating the history of the main hostage taker, and which detail how he became involved and why.

Hotel Cartagena is a short novel, but it moves along at quite a clip and is interesting and engaging. I’ve always loved this series because of my love of the city of Hamburg where the series is set, and one thing I like about the books is how the author brings a different aspect of Hamburg (and indeed Germany) to life in each. Hotel Cartagena is no different and a lot of the action takes place around the famous harbour, with first our hostage taker hitching a ride on a cargo ship to South America and later the hostage crisis occurring in one of the many luxury hotels to overlook the docks.

As with the series as a whole, the author writes this novel in the noir style reminiscent of Raymond Chandler, with Riley’s internal monologue sardonic and wisecracking even when all looks bleak. The narrative zings off the page and brings the tale to life.

Simone Buchholz’s novels are one of my favourite crime series, and this fourth outing doesn’t disappoint. And as with all the titles, I applaud the publisher Orenda for the cover art, because it’s a thing of beauty and does justice to a wonderful book.

4 out of 5 stars