British

Psychologist Alice Quentin had a rough time in Rhodes’ last novel, A Killing of Angels. A consultant for the police, she got caught up in a serial killer case that almost ended her own life. So, in this book, for a relaxing change of pace, Alice decides to spend some time at a hospital for the criminally insane, doing research. Ahhh, how refreshing!

Rhodes is devoted to a Victorian love of coincidence and it actually serves her quite well, especially in this novel, where the central crime is connected to the very Victorian Foundling Home. Really, the entire set up could not be more Victorian – the hospital where Alice is doing her research is an old, somewhat renovated throw back out in the country, and Alice has rented a picturesque, if freezing, cottage in the middle of the woods, the kind you might think belongs in a fairy tale. It’s probably the one belonging to the witch in Hansel and Gretel. read more

Judith Flanders is a well known expert on Victorian manners and history, whose most recent book The Invention of Murder sits on our history mystery table. This is her first foray into fiction, and it’s delightful, causing me to both laugh aloud and copiously dog ear pages as Ms. Flanders is exquisitely quotable.

I loved her premise and setting. Her main character, Sam Clair, is a senior book editor at a major British publisher, and she’s in her forties. Flanders makes full use of Sam’s age, experience and gender, sliding in blindingly astute vignettes illustrating how women of a certain age tend to be ignored. As this book proves, ignoring a middle aged woman comes with its own perils. read more

A new Crombie book is an event. Her Gemma James/Duncan Kincaid books have become instant classics, on a par with Peter Robinson’s, and I used to say, with Elizabeth George’s, but at this point I far prefer Crombie’s books to George’s. Her books are tighter and the character’s lives aren’t completely – or even at all – bleak and depressing. Gemma and Duncan have their problems, yes, but they are the problems of a normally lived life with a houseful of children ranging from teen to toddler. read more

Of all cozy writers, I think Malliet has the purest, most elegant prose.  Her writing is a joy to read.  That alone would set her books apart, but she’s also deliciously re-visiting the British village mystery and making it her own, to the delight of mystery fans everywhere.  My customers have quickly made her Max Tudor series a favorite.

So far she’s used seasonal titles and in this one she’s up to her last season, summer, as she spins a tale set inside a convent.  Max, the vicar of Nether Monkslip, has been asked by his bishop to look into a mysterious fruitcake poisoning originating in the convent of the Handmaids of St. Lucy.  The fruitcake is a bit of a specialty and the victim was the unpleasant Lord Lislelivit, happily recovered but angry and demanding answers. read more

This charming book is one of those told by a natural storyteller. Someone who just plain wants to tell you a story – other examples of this art form would be Donald E. Westlake, Lawrence Block, Michael Bond, and Elizabeth Peters. Robertson has no agenda other than giving your brain a nice workout as you figure out the puzzle along with his characters and relating a good yarn. Success on all fronts, as far as I’m concerned.

This is the third in Robertson’s series of Holmes embroideries set in the late 90’s. I can’t call this a pastiche, really, as only Sherlock’s address and letters to him are part of the equation, though the cases are solved by good old deductive reasoning. The central characters are Nigel and Reggie Heath, whose law firm happens to occupy 221B Baker Street. Letters addressed to Sherlock Holmes are delivered there, and a condition of Reggie’s lease is that he answer them. read more

Minotaur does a good job picking up and publishing British police procedurals and this is one of their latest finds – a genuine, no-holds-barred procedural with not one central female character, but three, which makes it a bit different.  The men in the book are either villains, eye candy, present or ex husbands, or sidebar co-workers.  It’s the women Staincliffe is interested in and that sets this novel apart.

It’s labeled on the cover a “Scott and Bailey” novel which gives things away a bit as the two main characters, Janet Scott and Rachel Bailey, are immediately front and center.  Janet’s boss, Gill, encounters Rachel on a crime scene and likes her enough to ask her to join her elite homicide team, which is Rachel’s dream job.  Janet is older, seasoned, experienced and irritated with Rachel, who is like an overeager puppy, charging in and acting without thinking.  Part of the novel is definitely concerned with Janet and Gill’s efforts to “train” her to act like a grown up police officer. read more

Kate Rhodes joins a new crop of British writers featuring feisty young female heroines – either police themselves or police consultants.  I’d compare her books to those by authors like Jane Casey and S.J. Bolton, both of whom highlight young female cops as their central characters.  Rhodes writes about a psychologist who consults for the police.  Both her first novel, Crossbones Yard, and this one, A Killing of Angels, are about serial killer cases.

Rhodes’ detective is one Alice Quentin who has a troubled backstory and family but whose police cases take her into a whole other dark realm, as she profiles “serials” for the cops.  All three women write about the tricky maneuvering women have to do to function in the very male atmosphere of a police station.  It’s feminism 2.0.  These women are accomplished and willing to figure out how to function within the system but often at the cost, at the suggestion of these authors at least, of a functional personal life. read more