Dept Q - Netflix review

Dept Q is a nine-part Netflix series based on a book by Jussi Adler-Olsen. To be honest, when I realised this was a show in nine hour-long segments, I feared that it would be padded out, as quite a few series on Netflix and other platforms are. Luckily, I was wrong. This is a pacy and fascinating story which gripped me from start to finish.

The setting of the story has been transplanted to Scotland from Scandinavia. I can't judge how faithful the screenplay (by Scott Frank and Chandni Lakhani) is to the original, which I haven't read, but it certainly worked for me. Episode one begins in dramatic fashion, as bantering cop Carl Morck, his partner and pal James Hardy, and a young police officer, are shot while investigating a murder. Morck is wounded, Hardly paralysed, and the young cop killed. 

When Morck finally returns to work, he is assigned to a new cold case unit, Department Q, a sort of Department of Dead Ends brought up to date. His new colleagues are a Syrian civilian called Akram and a young woman, Rose. They start to look into the case of a vanished lawyer, Merritt Lingard (a very demanding role, expertly handled by Chloe Pirrie). Morck is played quite superbly by Matthew Goode, while Alexev Manjelov is wonderful as Akram, the perfect foil. A great double act.

The story is complex but skilfully told, and the cast, which includes those consistently good performers Mark Bonnar and Kelly Macdonald, does justice to the script. This is a dark story, with some upsetting scenes and no shortage of bad language, but it works very well. Yes, you do have to suspend your disbelief from start to finish. But it's worth it.   

Forgotten Book - Crime Wave

One of the reasons why I regard Martin Russell as an interesting crime writer, a cut above many of the prolific authors who were his stable-mates in the Collins Crime Club for many years, is that he came up with a considerable number of unusual ideas for his storylines, never seeming to be content with the same-old, same-old. Couple with that his facility for writing readable prose, and you have someone who, I think, never quite received as much acclaim as he deserved.

In his early days, he wrote four books about Jim Larkin, who was (like Russell) a journalist. My guess is that eventually he found that a series character cramped his style and his imagination, and so Jim was consigned to history, or at least domestic bliss. Crime Wave (1974) was the third novel to feature him and it showcases both Russell's strengths and limitations.

The setting is Eden Village, a suburb in the green belt, to which Jim and his wife Bunty have moved. However, as you might guess, serpents have invaded Eden. A series of muggings, possibly connected with young people who are members of a local youth club, disrupts the tranquility of the place, and soon the seriousness of the crime wave begins to escalate. After a low-key start, the tension mounts. And then murder is done.

I figured out quite early one key element of what was going on, but the other major ingredient of the plot eluded me. This is, I have to say, partly due to the fact that a crucial piece of information is concealed from the reader, and I don't think Martin Russell worked quite hard enough to foreshadow his startling final twist. Had he done so, I'd have rated the book as excellent. As it is, this is a highly readable novel which supplies solid entertainment.

Lord of the Flies - BBC TV review

I was sixteen when I read Lord of the Flies for the first time, as part of a small but memorable educational experiment. I'd opted to do English as one of my four A-Level subjects, and my group had two youngish, very trendy teachers, 'Dicky' Junemann and Derek Morris. They decided to ignore the exam syllabus for the first term and introduce us to a range of novels with a view to broadening our literary horizons. At that time, it was an extraordinary thing to do, and I doubt it happened in many schools then or certainly now. But for me, it was brilliant, because broadening my horizons was exactly what it did. I've never forgotten that time, or those teachers, or the books I read (or the efforts that went into making up for much lost time with all the reading we were actually required to do for the exams!)

I loved Lord of the Flies. It's a bleak book and I suppose I didn't 'get' every nuance, but it made a great impression on me. There have always been critics who argue that the picture it presents of humanity is too dark and pessimistic. I didn't agree then, and I haven't changed my mind. Similarly, I vividly remember discussing Waiting for Godot at around the same time with a sixth former who was a year older than me; he thought it was too depressing to be a great play, but again I didn't agree. One can have a positive view of human nature, as I think I do, and still recognise the potential for very dark behaviour in the best of people, let alone the worst. Perhaps this perspective is also relevant to the appeal of crime fiction? (And of course, Lord of the Flies, although not a crime novel in any superficial sense, does deal with murder).

At that time, we were also shown Peter Brook's great film of the book (along with daring films of the time like If) and again I was impressed. So when the BBC announced a four-part series based on the book, I was very keen to watch it. And, having just watched the final episode last night, I must say that I think that screenwriter Jack Thorne and everyone else did a very good job of adapting the story, and capturing its timelessness. The music is striking, as is the cinematography, and the young actors do a great job in challenging roles; it can't have been easy for them.

Lord of the Flies was written in the 50s, but I read it in the 70s, and it felt very timely then. The 70s were a good decade for me personally, but I was conscious that a great deal was wrong with society, and that the potential for mob violence in real life, as in the book, was bubbling just beneath the surface unhappiness of those times. In the same way, screening Lord of the Flies in Britain in 2026 seems - I'm sorry to say - rather like a masterstroke. We live in unhappy times, not so very different in some respects from the 70s, and this classic story remains too meaningful, and too thought-provoking, for comfort.   

  

An Eventful Weekend

One of the pleasures of being a crime writer is being granted the opportunity to take part in events such as festivals - and therefore to meet readers, which is always a joy. One of the challenges is to figure out how much time one can devote to such events, in addition to writing. It's impossible to go everywhere and do everything. But when, last year, I was invited to take part in two crime festivals on the same weekend, they sounded so enticing that I really wanted to do both. And luckily I've managed to do just that. They were quite different, but had in common the fact that they were splendidly organised. And I've organised enough events myself to have some understanding of just how much work goes into delivering a successful festival, especially the first time around.

I've never been to Barnes (above photo) before, and the first Bloody Barnes crime festival sounded irresistibly tempting when Victoria Dowd told me about it. An added bonus was to be shortlisted for the Cob and Pen award, though other commitments meant I couldn't make the awards dinner, when the winner proved to be that splendid writer Mark Ellis. When I finally made it to Barnes the following evening, it was good to have the chance to congratulate him in person as well as attending a great conversation between Mark Billingham and Graham Bartlett. 

Anne Mullins, the highly efficient organiser of the festival, proved to be delightful in person and among other kindnesses she introduced me to the legendary Roger McGough, whom I last saw on a school trip to watch a play (was it Death of a Salesman?) at the Everyman in the theatre; I was a big fan of his in those far-off days and it was lovely to meet him in person. This was followed by an enjoyable chat in the bar between a group of us, and the only unfortunate thing was that on the way back I managed to trip up on a wet pavement; luckily the damage done looked worse than it felt, and Graham, to whom I was chatting when I slipped, ministered expertly!

My event, the following day, was a conversation with Antony Johnston hosted by Victoria. This was, predictably, great fun. Less predictable was the presence - among others - in the audience of Kathy, a fellow holidaymaker whom I last saw when we were on a yacht together in Croatia, Colin Edwards, who has given me some invaluable help on a couple of projects, Bernard O'Keeffe, with whom I was in touch by email recently, Nicholas Beale, with whom I had dinner at the Athenaeum a while back, and a nice lady who reminded me that she'd contacted me many years ago on the subject of careers in the law. Plus my agent, James Wills, whom it's always great to see, and the super-talented Vas Khan. Not to mention all the readers who came to say hello. This is what makes festivals such fun.

I'd hoped to stay for the whole of Saturday, but the accident had shaken me up a bit and that, plus news of big delays on the trains meant I left for home earlier than hoped, but at least I got a good night's rest before heading to Frodsham and the very first Cheshire Crime Festival, organised by James Caldwell from Curiosity Cat Bookshop, which is based in Frodsham. As someone who has lived in Cheshire for almost the whole of his life, this felt a bit like dream-come-true territory and it was plain from chatting to people who attended for the whole weekend that it was a huge success. Curious, too, was the fact that the last time I was at the venue, Forest Hills Hotel, was to have dinner there with my wife as a guest of the owner - many years ago - after I'd done some legal work for the hotel that had gone well. The setting is great, high on a hill where long ago there was an amusement park including a famous helter-skelter. 

James kindly interviewed me, and then followed a very interesting session with the most recent Gold Dagger winner, Anna Mazzola, and Jack Anderson. Jack is someone I hadn't met previously but he came across extremely well and I look forward to reading his book The Return of Moriarty.  

The Cheshire Crime Writing Festival will return next year on the weekend of 6-7 February 2027 and I hope and expect Bloody Barnes will also return, though whether it will be on the same weekend again, I don't know. Please do feel encouraged to give both these wonderful initiatives your support - believe me, you'll be glad you did.

By the end of Sunday, I was feeling re-energised as well as grateful to have had the chance to take part in both festivals. And special thanks to Anne Mullins and her team and James Caldwell and his. They all worked really hard and the result was that a lot of people had a very good time. Including me.  

 

Forgotten Book - The Late Bill Smith

The Late Bill Smith, first published in 1971, is not one of Andrew Garve's best-known books, but it's a typically entertaining novel of suspense, with just one slow patch, when the two main characters go on a cruise together in the middle of the book. But it's interesting to compare the description of cruising then with today's experiences. Certainly, apparently missing passengers are now treated rather more seriously than is the case in this novel.

The book begins in striking fashion. A man appears on Sue Hammond's balcony in Chelsea one warm September evening. He has a remarkable story to tell. His name is Bill Smith and he has been the subject of three failed attempts on his life. He has turned up on the balcony simply in an attempt to save himself and evade his pursuers. But he has no idea why they are pursuing him.

This is a great premise and I am pretty sure I understand the reason why Garve started the book in this way. It has the benefit that he can maintain some uncertainty in the reader's (and Sue's) mind as to whether Bill is lying and, if so, why. But there is a cost to this approach, and to be honest I'm not convinced that I would have made the same storytelling choices as Garve.

To explain why would be a spoiler, but I think it is fair to say that the pace slackens significantly after that great start and it doesn't fully recover. This is mainly because, from start to finish, we're told a lot of things instead of being shown them actually happening. I enjoyed the story, because Garve was such a wonderfully readable storyteller. In that he resembled his contemporary Michael Gilbert, although I'd say that Gilbert was a more polished writer. But there is a great idea at the heart of this novel, and although I think it could have been used even more effectively, The Late Bill Smith is still well worth reading.  

The Blog and the Newsletters - an announcement

I've managed to submit two books (one novel, one non-fiction) since Friday morning, so now I can turn my attention back to this blog - and related things. As recently as last June I was pleased to see that this blog had passed five million pageviews. Fast forward just over six months and the figure has reached seven and three quarters of a million. That's a huge increase, quite mind-blowing. As I said in June, there's no doubt that the number of visitors to this blog is on the rise; I know this is so, because of the number (plus the content) of genuine messages and emails I receive, which is now higher than ever. A leading crime writer who is a friend of mine and also very savvy about marketing has urged me to take advantage of this by taking paid adverts on the blog. It's sensible advice and tempting, but I've seen one or two good blogs disfigured by adverts and I don't want you to be put off by ads. (If you have any views for or against blog ads, do let me know). 

In any case, although I'm no tech expert, far from it, I'm also convinced that there is a lot of AI piracy going on, which partly explains this explosion in the pageview numbers. AI can bring the world great benefits, but there are also great dangers, not least to creative workers worldwide. So what can I do about it?

First things first. I love writing this blog and getting your feedback, which is never less than interesting. So it will continue, in roughly the same way as before. Last January I started a free monthly newsletter on the Substack platform, and this has gone well. So that too will continue. I very much hope that anyone who likes this blog will subscribe to it. Here's the link to paste into your browser: https://substack.com/@martinedwardsbooks

Substack seems to be a robust platform - it was originally recommended to me by my daughter Catherine, who is much more knowledgeable about these things than I am, and is full of good ideas - and so I think the time has come to move to the next stage. This is an additional, paid subscription newsletter. I've been encouraged in the past year by the number of people from around the world who pledged to subscribe if I started one, and also by the reaction in the last few days, since I announced in my newsletter that I was going to start a paid newsletter.

This approach will give me the chance to write about specific topics in more depth. In recent years, the print market for in-depth articles about crime fiction has diminished (CADS is much missed) and although I write occasionally for the national press, they don't take many in-depth articles. But I know from your messages that a great many of you love to find out more about writers and writing, not only ‘forgotten authors’ and their books, but contemporary talents, some of them emerging, some famous, as well.

A paid subscription needs to offer value, and I’m determined that The Life of Crime Premium will do just that. Paid subscribers will receive (among other good things):

·        12 newsletters a year with a wide range of exclusive content (e.g. breaking news, advance information, insights from editors, agents, and leading authors); these will be sent out monthly;

·        12 supplementary newsletters, mainly dealing with specific topics (e.g. exploring the work of forgotten authors and books in-depth, exclusive insights into my writing projects including the Crime Classics, and Q and As with leading writers that dig deeper than usual); these will be sent out at (approximately) monthly intervals during the course of the year.

·        Exclusive ‘Behind the scenes’ insights into the world of crime writing, the Detection Club, book collecting, and the publishing business

·        Exclusive images of rare books, letters, and manuscripts, many of which have never been published before

·        Occasional exclusive reduced price offers and discounts related to writing and books;

·        The opportunity to put specific questions to me about any aspect of crime writing

       One-to-one mentoring for aspiring writers.

Already I have amassed a lot of material that I'd like to share in this way, but I'd also welcome any thoughts you have, whether on the concept itself, or specifically what you feel would offer you great value in this context. 

Two final points: first, when will it start? Next week, I hope, as long as I master the technology involved...

Second, how much will it cost? In the newsletter, I proposed £6 per month and £60 for an annual subscription. Everyone who has commented so far thinks this is in the right ball-park for a professional writer, but I'm keen to get as full a picture of opinion as possible. I know that there are plenty of people, in these cash-tight times who simply can't afford payment, which is why I want to make it clear that I've no intention of putting this blog behind a paywall, even if it would take it out of reach of the AI bots. Equally, as a professional writer, you'll understand that I like to be paid for most of my work, and this plan seems to offer a chance to combine the free stuff with paid-for material in a reasonable way. 

So - I look forward to hearing from you! 

Forgotten Book - House Arrest

Abuse and exploitation of elderly people is a serious social problem that often goes under the radar. It's a big issue today, but it's not new, and over the years a number of crime writers have tackled it. Celia Dale's A Helping Hand, which appeared in 1966, is an excellent example. I wrote a short story on the subject myself - 'The Other Life'. And Martin Russell's 1988 novel House Arrest takes a similar theme and does something very different with it.

Maisie is a frail widow in her eighties who is easy prey so far as a trio of cowboy roofers are concerned. The smooth-talking Nigel ingratiates himself with her, while the menacing Dave and the sidekick Percy do the labouring. Maisie lives in a big house with extensive grounds, which she has kept after her husband's death so that her beloved Yorkshire terrier Ouncey can have the run of the place. But the bad guys are quick to spot her vulnerabilities and to exploit them.

Their campaign of financial and psychological terror is barely interrupted when Maisie's great-niece Anita comes to visit. But Anita gets a sense that something isn't quite right and, with the help of a neighbour, tries to do something about it.

House Arrest doesn't have the trademark Martin Russell twisty plot. It's a fairly straightforward suspense story, though as with all his books it's extremely readable. There's little doubt in my mind that he was trying to make an important social point about the way the police downplay concerns about the mistreatment of victims, especially older people, and he makes it quite well. However, I didn't find the villains particularly convincing. He could create strong characters, but here the most plausible character, and the most pitiable, is poor Maisie herself.

London Adventures

 

I'm now working busily on the final edit of the new Rachel Savernake after three separate short trips that have been hugely enjoyable. Among them was a lunch at the British Library, with the senior publishing team, to discuss a number of this year's projects. More about these soon in my newsletter. And then I wandered over to the BBC to record 'A Good Read', hosted by Harriett Gilbert (daughter of Michael). In this programme, Sir Tom Shakespeare and I discussed favourite books as well as one chosen by Harriett; it was a lot of fun and the photo shows the three of us in the studio. It was also good to have a drink with Harriett and Sally the producer in the BBC Club, chatting about aspects of crime fiction as well as some of Harriett's memories of her father. 

Another London trip enabled me to combine a very enjoyable Detection Club dinner with participation in the Lansdowne Literary Festival, splendidly organised once again by Veronica Hollander. The Club has a range of excellent facilities and I was able to present a tailor-made version of my 1920s murder mystery to be performed over dinner - one witness per course! The cast were great and the event was a sell-out.

 

Whilst in London I had the chance to catch up a couple of times with my daughter and also to explore St James Park, which is delightful, for the first time in many years. And I also wandered round the National Gallery a couple of times - there's so much to take in there, and the current exhibition, featuring Joseph Wright of Derby, is well worth a look. I had the chance to sign books in several shops and enjoyed the coincidence of seeing a great display, in Waterstones, Piccadilly, of Michael Gilbert's Sky High, the latest British Library Crime Classic.

A third trip took me to the home counties and a visit to Anthea Fraser, who, I'm happy to report is still in good form and still writing. I also had the chance to stay with Nigel Moss, a great connoisseur of Golden Age detective fiction, whose company I always relish. All this travelling has been a lot of fun, and although I now need to crack on with various writing projects quite urgently, the trips have energised and motivated me. A change is as good as a rest, they say...     

Forgotten Book - Dead Trouble

By the time he published Dead Trouble in 1971, D.M. Devine had transformed into Dominic Devine. Since his first name was David, I don't really understand this and I'd be interested to know what the thinking was. Maybe it was thought that, from a marketing perspective, initials were unappealing in the Seventies? But if so, why call himself Dominic? It's a puzzle, but frankly far less important than the mystery in the book - which, as usual with Devine, is very strong.

The opening scenes are set in Paris. A young man called Neville Richardson is looking to make the acquaintance of a particular girl; both of them are English. When someone else pesters the young woman, Neville seizes his chance. He befriends her, and although she is at first stand-offish, his easy charm steadily diminishes her resistance.

We learn that Alma Vallance, as she is called, is the daughter of a famous popular novelist who hasn't published a book for years, but is very wealthy. Alma is lovely to look at, but - to say the least - highly strung. Neville, it emerges, already knows a good deal about her. He's a chancer who has been put up to something, and it's not clear what his game is. One of the things Alma doesn't know about him is that he's married, although his long-suffering wife has thrown him out after he took one chance too many.  

This is a story with many twists and turns and once again Devine shows himself to be a master of the surprising solution. His writing style is relatively plain but his stories always move at a fast pace and his characterisation is generally good and sometimes excellent. So is the way he structures his mysteries so as to keep his readers guessing. Not for the first time, I admired the way he pulled the wool over my eyes. 

The Cob and Pen Award

It came as a very pleasant surprise to learn that Miss Winter in the Library with a Knife has been shortlisted for the Cob and Pen award for best crime novel, along with seven other books by a variety of distinguished authors: see below.

The key significance of literary awards from a writer's perspective is, I think, mainly to do with boosting confidence and morale, and this is an important and valuable function. Sometimes awards can bring benefits in terms of higher sales and more revenue (and over the years, when there's been a cash prize to accompany an award I've received, I've always used it to buy books that would serve as a tangible reminder of the occasion), but in the majority of cases that doesn't happen, and I don't think it matters. Because for a writer, confidence is very precious and you can't put a price on it.

I've been involved in judging literary prizes as well as being short or long listed or occasionally winning them and I think that experience over many years has given me a reasonably clear perspective. The reality is that there's inevitably an element of subjective judgment and opinion involved in these things, however hard one tries to be totally detached and objective. Again, though, I don't think that matters, as long as the process adopted is sensible and that all those involved strive to be fair-minded. It's a cliche that it's an honour to be nominated for any award, but it's true.

Twelve of my books (eight novels and four non-fiction titles) have won or been nominated for awards and that's something that gives me a good deal of pleasure. And it definitely contributes to motivation to keep writing and to keep striving to improve. Which is what I shall be doing in 2026!

Here's what the judges of the Cob and Pen award (which is associated with the Bloody Barnes crime festival, due to take place next month) had to say: 'We were thrilled at Bloody Barnes at the number of entries we received for the brand new Cob and Pen award.The judges found it all very hard to choose but here is our short list of eight - in no particular order! 'The Masked Band' by Bernard O'Keeffe 'Victim' by Thomas Enger and Jorn Lier Horst 'Blood Caste' by Shylashmi Sankar 'Dog sitter Detective Plays Dead' by Antony Johnson 'Death in the Aviary' by Victoria Dowd 'Death of an Officer' by Mark Ellis 'Miss Winter in the Library with a Knife' by Martin Edwards 'Marble Hall Murders' by Anthony Horowitz They are all a cracking good read - best of luck to them all for the next round of judging!'

Drop - 2025 film review

Whatever else it may lack, the recent film Drop isn't short of pace. Things happen constantly in this suspenseful film directed by Christopher Landon. The opening scenes are dramatic as a woman faces a life or death situation. Does this happen before the main incidents of the film, or at its conclusion? It's not immediately obvious (at least it wasn't to me) but soon - I thought this was a flashback, but I was mistaken - we meet the woman in question, a therapist called Violet Gates (played, very well I thought, by Meghann Fahy. 

Violet is a single mother with a young son, Toby. Her sister Jen comes round to babysit, because Violet has finally got back into the dating scene, and she's agreed to meet a man, a photographer called Henry, at a very fancy restaurant with the excellent name of Palate. Henry is late, and Violet encounters a number of people, including the pianist, a female bartender, a fellow diner who bumps into her, and an older man who is also waiting to meet a first date.

Henry (Brandon Sklenar) finally shows up and an overly effusive waiter serves them. But Violet is distracted by a flurry of messages on her phone. These are 'digi-drops', sent by an unknown person in the vicinity. This person threatens Violet - unless she does what he says, her son and sister will be murdered. When Violet checks on her home security camera (the wonders of modern tech) she sees that this is no hoax - there is a masked man in her home, menacing Jen. 

Tension mounts rapidly as Violet tries to find out what is going on and who is sending the messages, and why. I thought this plot - complete with chilling moral dilemma - worked really well until shortly after the revelation of the culprit. What happens in the film after that is rather cartoonish, a sequence of melodramatic events that are lacking in the originality of the bulk of the storyline. A pity, because a potentially excellent, if pulpy, film is turned into something like the same-old, same-old.   

Masquerade - 1988 film review

Masquerade is a film often categorised as 'neo noir', although like Body Heat, for instance, events are swathed in sunshine rather than darkness. It's a glossy piece of work which dates from 1988 but has worn pretty well, even if there is more nudity than you'd be likely to find in similar movies today, in the age of the intimacy co-ordinator. Dick Wolf (best known for Law & Order) was responsible for the Edgar-nominated screenplay, and his plotting proved skilful enough to hold my attention from start to finish.  

The setting is The Hamptons, playground of the rich, and some critics have read into the script a commentary on classism in the United States. This is an element of the story, to be sure, but a relatively minor one. There's no doubt that the emphasis is on mystery and plot twists, and I'm not the person to complain about that! 

Rob Lowe plays Tim Whalen, a young yacht captain who is having an affair with a married woman (Kim Cattrall, very glamorous). He meets up with Olivia, a young heiress (Meg Tilly), whose mother has recently died, and who is living unhappily with her stepfather and his latest girlfriend. Olivia also encounters a childhood friend, Mike McGill, who is now working as a local cop.

Motives for murder - sex, money, jealousy - swirl around as one death follows another. We are certainly in 'trust no-one' territory with this storyline. The film also benefits from a typically lush score by John Barry (who also wrote a superb soundtrack for Body Heat, and whose style of composition was very well suited to this type of storyline). Reviews of the film on its release were mixed, but I think it's a very good example of its kind. Not in the same league as Body Heat, but then I would say that's the best neonoir film ever made. 

Forgotten Book - Reduction of Staff

Francis John Whaley (1897-1977) was an obscure Golden Age detective novelist whose books have long since vanished from sight, with the exception of his second, Trouble at College, which was republished by Ostara in its series of Cambridge mystery reprints some years back. Whaley was a Cambridge man himself: he studied history at Corpus Christi College, although his academic career was interrupted by the war, in which he earned a Military Cross for his bravery before being invalided out of the army.

After finally graduating, Whaley became a schoolmaster, spending several years at St Bees in Cumberland, where he met his future wife (her first husband named him in a divorce petition), whom he married in 1938. Before that, he had in 1936 published his detective fiction debut, a novel pleasingly entitled Reduction of Staff. On the principle of 'write what you know', it is set in public school and narrated by a Cambridge man who also writes fiction. 

Judged by the standards of Golden Age mysteries, Reduction of Staff strikes me as a pleasing effort. The narrative style is readable, and as a result, although I guessed the culprit (not difficult) and saw through the red herring involved in the first murder, this didn't spoil the book for me. The precise means by which the crime was committed eluded me, as it usually does, because the 'howdunit' element of books of this kind appeals to me much less than 'whodunit' and 'whydunit'.

As regards motive, there are some relevant facts which are not disclosed to the reader (I also wondered if the motive drew some slight inspiration from events in Whaley's private life), but overall I rather liked this novel. Whaley wrote nine mysteries in all, but by the time his short career came to an end in 1941 he had turned to espionage rather than detection. After the Second World War he taught in Sussex, but he seems to have lost interest in writing, even though he lived into the era of Colin Dexter and Inspector Morse. His obscurity is unsurprising, but this book at least is worth reading.  

Thelma and Louise - 1991 film review

Thirty-five years have passed since Ridley Scott's film Thelma and Louise was first released, to much acclaim. On first viewing, decades ago, I was very impressed, but I decided to take another look at it, to see if I liked it as much after so much water has flowed under the bridge. And if ever a film set in the 90s has stood the test of time, it's Thelma and Louise.

You could call this a feminist film, a buddy movie, a crime film, a revenge thriller, or a black comedy; none of these labels are wrong, but none of them is broad enough to encompass the full range of Callie Khouri's impressive screenplay. There are some very dark moments indeed, but there's also a lot of variety, peaks and troughs of action and emotion. All as impressive today, in my opinion, as they were at the time.

Thelma (Geena Davis) is a beautiful but unsophisticated woman married to a carpet salesman who doesn't value her. Her pal Louise (Susan Sarandon) is a feisty waitress who has encouraged her to go on a vacation as a means of escape from their unsatisfactory lives. When Thelma's naivete gets her into trouble, Louise's temper flares up with disastrous results.

From then on, the pair are fleeing, not just from the police but from the lives they knew. They find a kind of liberation together, but it comes at a huge cost. I admire the way the script charts the evolution of their relationship and the film has one of the great, iconic endings, right up there with favourites of mine like those in movies like Don't Look Now and The Long Good Friday. Harvey Keitel plays a sympathetic cop effectively (it's not true, I think, to say that this film is anti-men) and Michael Madsen and Brad Pitt also have key roles. They are all very good, but the film belongs to the two leads. And to Scott, who is such a fine director.

 

Alone - 2020 film review

Alone is an American film, shot in rural Oregon, which is apparently a remake of an earlier Swedish film called Gone; both movies are scripted by Mattias Olsson, but certainly Alone is minimalist in its approach to dialogue and is very heavily dependent on the two lead actors. Fortunately, Jules Willcox is outstanding in the role of Jessica, a troubled woman menaced by a psychopath played by Marc Menchaca, and her performance elevates this movie from the routine same-old, same-old into something rather more compelling.

At the start of the film, Jessica is relocating from her home in Portland. She is in touch with her parents but has a difficult relationship with her mother and it's not clear what is going on or what her plans are. She has loaded her possessions into a trailer which she drives along the endless quiet roads - until a driver of a black jeep starts to behave disturbingly.

She has more than one encounter with the driver (Menchaca) and it's clear that there's something creepy about him, even though he purports to be friendly. The tension builds as Jessica resists his initial attempts to establish some kind of connection with her. But he refuses to let go...

I won't say much more about the plot, even though its development is not exactly unexpected. Films about psychos do tend to have a certain familiarity. But graphic violence is avoided for most of the film; the suspense develops as much by implication and suggestion, and Jules Willcox's acting enables her to convey a formidable range of emotions even when she doesn't say a word. Alone is worth watching for her acting...alone.

David Roberts R.I.P.

I was saddened to learn recently, from his widow Jane, that David Roberts died on 18 December. The news came as a particular shock as I'd very much enjoyed David's company at a Detection Club dinner at the Langham Hotel on 7 November. He was in excellent form that night, even though he'd not been in the best of health, and he wrote to me after the dinner to say how much he'd enjoyed the evening. I was looking forward to seeing him again this year.

David had a distinguished career in publishing lasting over thirty years - he ultimately became an editorial director - before he turned to writing detective fiction. Sweet Poison (2001) introduced Lord Edward Corinth and Verity Browne, and the book, set in the 1930s, reflected his love of Golden Age fiction. Sweet Sorrow (2009) was the tenth and last in the series.

I knew David mainly through the Detection Club rather than the CWA, and he kindly contributed twice to Club books that I edited. 'Unfinished Business' is a story which appears in Motives for Murder, our tribute to Peter Lovesey on his 80th birthday and David paid homage by writing a nice tale about Peter's first detective, Sergeant Cribb. As far as I know, this story was David's last piece of published crime fiction.

When I invited David to contribute to Howdunit, our book about the art and graft of crime writing, he wrote an incisive piece about the changing face of publishing. He was ideally qualified to write it, of course.

From time to time, he'd drop me a nice email about books like The Golden Age of Murder or the British Library Crime Classics and it was always nice to talk to him. He was a charming and popular man, and I'm so sorry that he's gone.

Forgotten Book - The Precious Gift

Sometimes, one can own a book for a very long time before getting round to reading it. Well I can, anyway. It's not a habit I'm proud of, but it feels more or less inevitable, since although I read a lot of books each year, I acquire even more. This is my excuse for not reading John Bowen's The Precious Gift since I acquired the paperback edition in 1993 - alas, it was a review copy that I didn't have time to review. My mistake...

John Bowen was a novelist and playwright, but possibly best known as a TV scriptwriter (not to be confused, by the way, with T.R. Bowen). Among many other credits, he wrote for Wilde Alliance and co-created Hetty Wainthropp Investigates. The Precious Gift first appeared in 1992 and bears laudatory quotes from Ruth Rendell and P.D. James, neither of whom scattered praise around lightly. So why I took so long to read it, I really can't explain.

I'm so glad I finally did read this novel. The writing is excellent, with an undercurrent throughout of dry wit. It's interesting for several reasons, and especially because he chose as a protagonist a young woman with a small baby. Risky, but I think he succeeds admirably in capturing the character and lifestyle of Sarah Arnott, a stubborn yet likeable woman whose life changes forever after the discovery of a skeleton in the grounds of the house she shares with her husband Simon.

The skeleton is of a youngish woman who was pregnant and who must have been dead for more than forty years. It's clear she was murdered and buried to hide evidence of the crime. Sarah becomes obsessed with trying to find out who she was and what happened to her, taking her lead from detectives in Crime Club novels (these references supply part of the fun). One might quibble that the motive for the crime, when eventually uncovered, is a bit far-fetched, but no matter. This really is a very good story, which had me gripped from start to finish.   

Murder by Numbers - 2002 film review

The Leopold and Loeb case dates back just over a century, to 1924, but it has an enduring fascination for anyone interested in criminology. The idea of 'murder for experiment' is chilling in the extreme, I think. No wonder the case supplied the raw material for Patrick Hamilton's play Rope, which was expertly filmed by Alfred Hitchcock, and Meyer Levin's Compulsion, also made into a good film. And there's much more stuff out there inspired, in one way or another, by Leopold and Loeb's misadventure in crime.

Including Murder by Numbers, which stars Sandra Bullock, an actor who is appealing in a wide range of roles. Here she plays Detective Cassie Mayweather, a woman with a troubled past, who is assigned to investigate along with a new partner, played by Ben Chaplin in a role which demonstrates his versatility - so very, very different from Dorian Gray!

The high school classmates who are - very loosely - based on Leopold and Loeb are Richard Heywood and Justin Pendleton, who are played by Ryan Gosling and Michael Pitt, both of whom do well to humanise two unappetising individuals. Agnes Bruckner plays a pretty girl whom Justin idolises and Richard seduces. 

Tony Gayton's script is competent, but the storyline follows a fairly predictable course, and I felt that the excellent cast might have been better utilised if there had been something more unexpected about the plot. As it is, it's a well-made film that is worth watching but does not offer any fresh insights into why perfectly respectable people might be attracted to the idea of killing a randomly chosen, entirely innocent victim. And that is, sad to say, such a common phenomenon that the more we understand about it, perhaps the better the chance that society will be able to nip some of these terrible crimes in the bud.

Planet of the Apes - film review

Like most people, I have lots of gaps in my cultural knowledge and whenever I can, I try to fill one or two of them. This explains why I've now got round, for the very first time, to watching the original movie of Planet of the Apes, which dates from 1968. (You might say that there's nothing very cultural about this particular film, but I can't agree.) Astonishingly, the film has something in common with the utterly different The Bridge on the River Kwai - both were based on novels by the French writer Pierre Boulle. 

I've never read either novel, but it's impressive that someone could come up with two such distinct, yet memorable storylines. Apparently the screenplay of Planet of the Apes, by Michael Wilson and Rod Serling, is very different from the original book, but even so. The film has some ludicrous elements, but it also makes some telling social points, which are still highly relevant today.

The premise is simple. Three astronauts wake from deep hibernation after a long journey through space that has taken them far into the future. A fourth colleague, a woman, doesn't survive the trip, and her corpse is very badly aged. When they crash-land on an unfamiliar planet, they don't know where they are - and their space craft sinks into a lake, so they are stranded. The planet seems barren, but they find traces of vegetation and soon it becomes clear that there is indeed life to be found. First, the visitors encounter a group of mute humans. And then they come across the masters of the planet, who are (as of course we've been led to expect) apes.

Charlton Heston is ideal for the lead role of Taylor, a tough-minded astronaut who is determined to resist his captors. Roddy McDowall and Kim Hunter are sympathetic chimpanzees, who are devoted to science, whereas Dr Zaius is hostile - and, Taylor starts to think, this is because he knows more about the planet's history than he is prepared to admit. Zaius, incidentally, was played by Maurice Evans, a British actor who made a notable contribution to pop music history by encouraging Hal David to get involved with entertainment during the Second World War.

The twist ending in the film is famous, and deservedly so. I can see why this film was so popular, and why it spawned a media franchise. I enjoyed watching it.  

Forgotten Book - Devil at Your Elbow

D.M. Devine's Devil at Your Elbow, originally published by Collins Crime Club in 1966, was his fifth novel. The setting is a redbrick university, and the authenticity of the background owes a great deal to the fact that Devine worked at the University of St Andrews as a senior administrator. Although Hardgate University in the novel appears to be located in the north of England, the use of the Scottish spelling of the term 'bedell' rather than 'beadle' hints at Devine's Scottish background. (In another of his English-set books, similarly, he uses terms like 'whin' rather than 'gorse' and 'dux' for top of the form. I imagine what he was trying to do was to make clear that he wasn't writing about people and places that he knew).  

The story begins with a chess match played between two members of staff, the unpopular Dr Haxton (who is rumoured to have embezzled funds from the summer school) and young Peter Bream, who lectures in maths. Peter's fiancee, the glamorous (but mysterious) Lucille Provan, is a prime mover in the attempt to remove Haxton from his post. Haxton wants Peter's help to find out about the case against him, but Peter is unwilling to get involved and Lucille tells him that the case against Haxton is strong.

We are quickly introduced to various other key figures at Hardgate, including the Bursar, Ivor Matthews, Professor Edgar Simmonds, Graham Loudon, the Dean of Law, and Errol Humphreys, the Registrar. Some of them clearly have an axe to grind against Haxton. We also meet Karen Westall, who was going out with Peter until she made the mistake of introducing him to Lucille. She is still living in the same cottage as Lucille and remains on friendly terms with Peter. As for Peter, he is charming but rather weak, and has spent much of his life in the shadow of his deceased father, who was a professor at the same university. Peter isn't of the same calibre, and he knows it.

An attack on Karen is a prelude to a tragedy. Haxton is found dead and the inquest returns a verdict of accidental death. But was it? Gradually it becomes clear that old sins cast long shadows. The notoriously picky Kirkus Reviews said that this book is 'as intricate and intelligent as its main cast of characters' and this judgement is spot on. The technical storytelling skill with which Devine diverts suspicion away from the guilty part is really impressive.    

Happy New Year!

A quick note to wish all readers of this blog a very happy and healthy 2026. Over the coming months, all being well, I plan to continue writing posts in the same way as in the past. So tomorrow, for instance, will see the first Forgotten Book of the year - and it's a good one.  

During the past year I experimented with a monthly newsletter on Substack. I've been very pleased with the response to this and I aim to continue with it. I've also been receiving various extremely interesting suggestions about a paid-for newsletter (which would be in addition to, not instead of, the blog and the free newsletter). So it's likely that I shall progress that idea soon. And I welcome any ideas you may have about what you'd like to see in it. The only merit of a paid-for newsletter, I think, is if it offers value for the subscription, so the more I can tailor the contents (and extras) to what readers want, the better.

Looking further ahead, this year should see publication of the new Rachel Savernake novel in September, and four anthologies: I'm especially excited about one of these collections, and will say more about it soon. I'm also involved with the British Library on two major projects which will come to fruition this year: again, more news soon. The Crime Classics will continue to appear on a monthly basis and we have some great titles lined up for 2026.

So whatever the weather, whatever troubling things are going on in the world, there are always things to be positive about. I'm entering the new year in good heart - and I hope you are, too.