The Neighbour’s Secret by Sharon Bolton

The narrator of Sharon Bolton’s new novel is the very definition of a nosy neighbour. Living in the middle of three adjoining cottages with very thin walls makes it easy to hear the people on either side: the narrator knows what music they listen to and what they watch on television, who they speak to on the telephone and what time they get out of bed in the morning. In the evening, as it gets dark and people turn on their lights, it’s time to take a walk through the streets of the small Cumbrian village specifically to pry through illuminated windows to see the residents going about their daily lives. This is why the narrator becomes frustrated when Anna Brown moves in next door and stubbornly remains a woman of mystery, giving away very few clues to her past.

Yet the narrator is also a mystery, reluctant to share personal information with either the reader or the other characters. For a long time we don’t even know their name, which is why I’m being equally secretive in this review! Let’s focus on the plot instead. There are two separate storylines that alternate throughout the book, starting to come together towards the end. In the first, the narrator and Anna, who have formed a tense friendship, investigate the disappearances of several teenage girls at the InGathering, a yearly event held by the local church. The details of this event are – like everything else in this book – shrouded in mystery, but the church seems to resemble a cult with rituals and traditions that they prefer to keep hidden.

The other narrative is set a year earlier and describes the meetings between a psychiatrist and her patient, seventeen-year-old Jago Moore. Jago stabbed one of his teachers at school and the authorities want an assessment of his mental condition before deciding what action to take. This storyline seems quite unrelated to the other, until we start to suspect who the psychiatrist is. Again, though, not everything is as it seems and there are multiple twists and turns as we head towards the conclusion of the book!

I was able to guess some of the plot twists before they happened, but not all of them and not always very far in advance. It’s easy to make certain assumptions about some of the characters and situations in the book, but these assumptions aren’t necessarily correct and Bolton very cleverly creates confusion and misdirection from beginning to end.

The central mystery surrounding the disappearing girls at the InGathering was actually the part of the novel that interested me the least and I found the revelations about what was really going on at the church quite far-fetched. The Jago Moore sections, however, were chilling – Jago is clever and manipulative and I found his behaviour terrifyingly believable. The whole book has a dark, creepy atmosphere; the village of St Abel’s Chapel in the Lake District should have been an idyllic setting, but with so much secrecy and with most of the action taking place in the middle of the night, it feels like a sinister place rather than a picturesque one.

Although this isn’t one of my absolute favourite books by Sharon Bolton, I did enjoy it and liked it better than last year’s The Fake Wife. It seems that her next book, coming in 2025, will be another standalone; I’m looking forward to it but would also like a return to the Lacey Flint series, which I love!

Thanks to Orion for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

The Labyrinth House Murders by Yukito Ayatsuji

Translated by Ho-Ling Wong

This is a good example of why it’s often worth giving an author a second chance. I was disappointed with Ayatsuji’s The Decagon House Murders, finding the characters very wooden and the plot a poor imitation of And Then There Were None, so I had decided to stick with Japanese crime authors more to my taste, such as Seishi Yokomizo. Then I read lots of glowing reviews of The Mill House Murders, the second in Ayatsuji’s series to be released in a new English translation, so when I saw the third one, The Labyrinth House Murders, on NetGalley I decided to give him another try.

The Labyrinth House, we are told, is the work of the same architect who designed the Decagon House and the Mill House. As its name suggests, the house contains a labyrinth of passageways with the rooms arranged around the edges, so that to get from one room to another it’s necessary to enter the maze. The design is inspired by the Minotaur myth and all of the rooms are named after characters associated with the myth. This very unusual house is the home of the mystery writer Miyagaki Yōtarō.

Miyagaki is in poor health but, as the novel opens, he is preparing for his sixtieth birthday and has invited a group of friends and colleagues to celebrate with him at the Labyrinth House. These include four younger crime authors whom Miyagaki has mentored, a literary critic, his editor Utayama and his wife – and a friend, Shimada Kiyoshi, who is the series detective. As the guests assemble at the house, they are greeted by Miyagaki’s secretary, who gives them the shocking news that their host has committed suicide, leaving them a recorded message to listen to. The recording instructs them not to leave the house or call the police for five days and in the meantime the four authors must each use the time to write a detective story. The four stories will be judged by the other guests and the winner will inherit part of Miyagaki’s fortune.

This book was much more fun than The Decagon House Murders. Although the plot is obviously very contrived, that didn’t bother me and I found it easy enough to just suspend disbelief and accept the premise. Once the story writing competition begins, murders start to take place (in very imaginative ways) and I was completely gripped until the end. My only real criticism is that one of the clues to the solution is something that only a man would think was plausible; Ayatsuji should maybe have discussed it with a woman first before basing a key plot point around it. Sorry to be vague!

I loved the setting of the Labyrinth House and the way so many aspects of the Minotaur myth are worked into the plot. A map of the house is included to help the reader appreciate the layout of the rooms and the labyrinth (and this is where I wished I had a physical copy of the book instead of the ebook). The house has an eerie, unsettling atmosphere and I worried for the characters every time one of them went wandering off on their own! Being originally published in 1988, there are also lots of little details that set the book in that period: the way everyone smokes indoors; the word processors the authors use with floppy disks to save their work; the landline telephones that can so easily (in crime novels, anyway) become cut off from the outside world.

The characters have a bit more depth than the ones in The Decagon House, although I’m finding that characterisation doesn’t seem to be a strong point in any of the older Japanese crime novels I’ve read. Most of the book is written from Utayama’s perspective, although Shimada is the one who does the detective work – and, thankfully, explains some of his deductions to Utayama as he goes along so that the reader can follow what’s happening. And did I manage to solve the mystery? Well, no, I didn’t, but Ayatsuji conceals an important piece of information from us until the end of the book, so I don’t really consider this a fair play mystery anyway. There are also multiple plot twists and a story-within-a-story structure, just to make things even more difficult!

I’m pleased to see that the next book in the series, The Clock House Murders, is being published by Pushkin next year and also pleased that they’re sticking with Ho-Ling Wong as translator, as he’s done such a great job with this one. Meanwhile, I’ll go back and read The Mill House Murders, in the hope that for some reason it was only The Decagon House I didn’t connect with.

Thanks to Pushkin Vertigo for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

This is my sixth and final book for this year’s RIP XIX challenge.

The Examiner by Janice Hallett

It’s September 2023 and six students are preparing to start Royal Hastings University’s new Multimedia Art course. The course is led by Gela Nathaniel who has personally selected her students from different backgrounds to ensure a range of skills and artistic knowledge. There’s Jem Badhuri, an ambitious and enthusiastic young woman who works mainly in sculpture and sound; Alyson Lang, already an experienced and talented artist; Jonathan Danners, whose family own an art gallery; Cameron Wesley, a marketing executive trying to juggle the course with his job; Ludya Parak, a graphic designer and single mother; and finally, Patrick Bright, a man in his fifties who runs an art supplies shop.

Almost as soon as the course gets under way there are hints that something is wrong. Some of the students seem to be hiding secrets and tensions quickly develop between them. Then, five of the group go on an overnight trip to Somerset to visit a museum and it’s not clear whether all five have returned again. Is the missing student still alive or have they been murdered and the others are covering it up? As the course comes to an end, Ben Sketcher, an external examiner responsible for giving an independent assessment of the course and the students’ grades, is given access to all the communications between Gela and her class and must decide whether a crime has been committed.

The Examiner is written entirely in the form of emails, WhatsApp messages and transcripts of chats from the Royal Hastings University messaging app, Doodle. This makes it easy for Hallett to conceal the truth from the reader because each character only reveals what they want the others to know and they aren’t necessarily always being honest. Clues do eventually begin to emerge but the full picture doesn’t become clear until Ben has read every message and every email. Readers of Hallett’s The Appeal or The Mysterious Case of the Alperton Angels will already be familiar with the epistolary format she uses and to be honest I think it’s something you either love and connect with immediately or you don’t. If you didn’t enjoy her other books this one probably won’t change your mind. Personally, I find them unusual and imaginative – and very gripping, as the short length of the emails and chats makes it difficult to stop reading!

The Multimedia Art course is a year long and during that time the students are given various assignments and projects to complete. Their responses to these are provided in the book and although I know very little about multimedia art I enjoyed reading them as they give a deeper insight into each character. I was particularly intrigued by Jem’s work with soundscapes and binaural audio and Patrick’s experiments with resin. Gela’s notes as she examines and grades each project are also interesting as they give us clues about how she views each student and her relationship with them. Why does she show such favouritism to the overqualified Alyson, for example? Why does she make so many allowances for Cameron, who barely attends the course and makes very little effort when he does?

When I eventually discovered what was going on behind the scenes of Gela’s Multimedia Art course I felt slightly let down because it seemed so far-fetched and not what I had expected. Still, the fun was in getting there and watching the dynamics play out between the six students along the way. Although The Twyford Code and The Alperton Angels are still my favourite Hallett novels, I did love this one as well; it’s maybe not the best place to start with her books, but I think existing Hallett fans will enjoy it as much as I did.

I’m counting this as my third book for this year’s RIP challenge.

The Meiji Guillotine Murders by Futaro Yamada

Translated by Bryan Karetnyk

It’s 1869 and Japan has entered the Meiji era. The Tokugawa shogunate has fallen and the Emperor Meiji has been restored to the throne. After centuries of isolation, Japan is finally opening up to foreign trade and undergoing social, industrial and military reform. In Tokyo, a group of corrupt rasotsu (policemen) have found ways to exploit this period of change and upheaval for their own gain. With the arrival of two Chief Inspectors from the Imperial Prosecuting Office, Kawaji and Kazuki, it seems that the rasotsu will be forced to mend their ways – although the two men have other things to occupy their time as well as dealing with corruption.

With a number of bizarre murders taking place around Tokyo, Kazuki and Kawaji (based on a real person who is considered the founder of Japan’s modern police system) engage in a friendly competition to see who can solve the crimes first. A separate chapter is devoted to each case, which at first seem to be unrelated, making the book feel almost like a collection of short stories. There are five cases for the two detectives to solve, with the help of Esmeralda, a young Frenchwoman from a family of executioners whom Kazuki has brought to Japan along with that most deadly of French weapons: the guillotine. Despite the title, the guillotine is not necessarily used to carry out all of the murders in the book, but it represents the changes that Japan is experiencing as the country becomes exposed to modern, western influence. It also provides a reason for Esmeralda’s presence in Tokyo, which is important as she has a significant role to play in the solving of the mysteries.

The Meiji Guillotine Murders was first published in 1979 and is one of several Japanese crime novels that have recently been made available in English by Pushkin Press. However, although I’ve loved some of the others, I didn’t enjoy this one quite as much. Bryan Karetnyk’s translation is clear and readable (I’m already familiar with his work through some of his other translated novels), but I had problems with other aspects of the book. I struggled with the number of characters, particularly as so few of them have clearly defined personalities and with more and more of them being introduced with each new case the detectives investigate. My lack of engagement with the characters made it difficult for me to concentrate on following the plot, which is important as all of the separate cases are quite complex and you do need to be paying attention! I persevered and was rewarded with the final section of the book where, after some surprising twists and turns, everything is tied together perfectly.

I did like the historical setting of the book and felt I was learning a lot about Japan during the Meiji era. At times it seemed more like historical fiction than a murder mystery, which was fine with me, but I think someone picking the book up expecting a more traditional crime novel may be surprised by the amount of historical detail. It’s an interesting, unusual book, and although I’m not sure whether I would read any more by Yamada, I do hope more of them are translated into English for those readers who loved this one. I’m enjoying discovering Japanese crime authors through Pushkin and so far my favourites have been Seishi Yokomizo and Akimitsu Takagi.

Thanks to Pushkin Vertigo for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

This is book 7/20 of my 20 Books of Summer 2024.

Book 24/50 for the Historical Fiction Reading Challenge 2024

The Noh Mask Murder by Akimitsu Takagi

Translated by Jesse Kirkwood

My 20 Books of Summer reading is off to a good start with this 1949 Japanese locked room mystery, now available from Pushkin Press in a new English translation. Thanks to Pushkin, I’ve been able to try several Japanese classic crime authors over the last few years, including Seishi Yokomizo, Yukito Ayatsuji and Soji Shimada. The Noh Mask Murder is the first book I’ve read by Akimitsu Takagi and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

The novel opens with a discussion between Koichi Yanagi, a chemist who has recently returned to Japan after serving in Burma during the war, and his old school friend, Akimitsu Takagi (yes, the author himself, who appears as a character in his own novel – just like Anthony Horowitz in his Horowitz and Hawthorne series). Akimitsu explains to Koichi that he wants to write a new kind of detective novel, one based on a mystery he has solved for himself in real life:

‘I’d tackle some fiendish real-life mystery, then set down precisely how I solved it in the form of a novel. My readers would be provided with the exact same evidence as the author. They’d be able to follow the detective-narrator’s train of thought, assess the appropriateness of his actions – and even come up with their own alternatives. But I don’t imagine an opportunity like that will ever present itself…’

His opportunity comes sooner than he had imagined when Koichi stumbles upon a mystery at the Chizui family mansion, where he has been staying since returning from the war. The head of the household, Professor Chizui, who was once a friend of Koichi’s, died ten years earlier and the house is now inhabited by his two children and the family of his younger brother, Tajiro. The first sign that something is wrong within the Chizui mansion comes when an eerie figure wearing a sinister Noh mask is seen at one of the windows. Soon after this, Tajiro is found dead inside a locked room, with a smell of jasmine in the air and a Noh mask lying on the floor beside him. Akimitsu Takagi joins Koichi at the house to investigate the murder, but when they discover that someone has called the undertaker to order three coffins, it seems that there’s going to be more than just one murder to investigate!

The mystery is a fascinating one and although some time is spent discussing the mechanisms of how the locked room murder took place, the story never becomes too bogged down by the puzzle aspect; the focus is on the characters, their relationships and their motives. I did find the structure slightly confusing at times as we know we’re reading a book within a book written by Akimitsu Takagi (as both character and author), but within that there’s a journal written by Koichi and a long letter written by Hiroyuki Ishikari, the public prosecutor, so the narrative is sometimes three layers deep. There are some clever twists towards the end, however, which might not have worked if it had been structured differently.

Apart from the mystery, I found it interesting to learn about the different types of mask used in Japanese theatre and how although the Noh mask, which represents a demon, cannot change expression the actors can still use it to show various emotions by tilting the mask up and down and by the clever use of lighting. With the story being set in the post-war period, it’s also interesting to hear the characters reflect on the irony of being so concerned with the death of one person after living through a war in which millions died. If you kill a man in peacetime you’re considered a murderer, says Tajiro’s son, Rintaro, but if you kill a man on the battlefield you’re given a medal.

I really enjoyed The Noh Mask Murder, then, but be warned – in the prologue, where Takagi is discussing his plans for a detective novel, he casually spoils the solution of Agatha Christie’s The Murder of Roger Ackroyd. Not a problem for me as I’ve already read it, but I wish authors wouldn’t do that!

Thanks to Pushkin Vertigo for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

This is book 1/20 of my 20 Books of Summer 2024.

They Found Him Dead by Georgette Heyer – #1937Club

This week, Simon of Stuck in a Book and Karen of Kaggsy’s Bookish Ramblings are hosting another of their very popular clubs, where we all read and write about books published in the same year. This time it’s 1937 Club and for my first book I’ve turned to a favourite author who can be almost guaranteed to have had at least one title published in any chosen club year. In 1937, she had two and although An Infamous Army, a novel set before and during the Battle of Waterloo, is one I read a few years ago and didn’t particularly enjoy, I’m pleased to say that I had a much better experience with this one.

They Found Him Dead is one of twelve contemporary detective novels written by Heyer. It begins with the family, friends and business associates of Silas Kane assembling at his country house to celebrate his sixtieth birthday. As with many large gatherings, there are various tensions between members of the group, but when Silas is found dead at the bottom of a cliff after going out for his usual evening walk, the police decide that it was just a tragic accident. Only fourteen-year-old Timothy Harte, half-brother of Silas Kane’s nephew Jim, suspects murder – and when Kane’s heir, Clement, is shot in the head several weeks later, it seems that he could have been right.

Superintendent Hannasyde and Sergeant Hemingway arrive from Scotland Yard to investigate and quickly discover that there’s a large number of suspects including several nephews and nieces in the line of inheritance, some of Kane’s business partners and even his elderly mother, a woman in her eighties. However, they first need to decide whether they really are dealing with two murders or just one – and if there have been two, were they both committed by the same person?

I thought this was an entertaining novel, although I did panic at first due to the huge number of people introduced in the opening chapter. I wished I had drawn a family tree to keep them all straight in my mind, but after a few more chapters everything had settled down anyway and the characters and their relationships became more clearly defined. As a mystery it’s not a very clever or original one – in fact, it’s quite formulaic in many ways, with the country house, family party, motives revolving around inheritances and business deals and the Scotland Yard detectives all being very familiar to anyone who has read a lot of Golden Age crime. The murderer is also quite easy to guess, once you’ve picked up on one very obvious clue.

What I really enjoyed about this book was not the plot but the characters. I particularly loved Timothy, who has an active imagination leading him to see drama and conspiracy in every situation and is nicknamed Terrible Timothy by Sergeant Hemingway. He does actually help to solve the mystery, but not in the way he had expected! There’s also a bit of romance (although it’s quite understated and not a big part of the book), with Timothy’s half-brother, Jim Kane, falling in love with Patricia Allison, companion to Silas Kane’s mother. I liked these two characters as well; in general, the characters in this book are a more pleasant bunch than in the other Heyer mysteries I’ve read! A few of them also appear in her 1951 novel, Duplicate Death, which I read before this one and I’m now wishing I’d read them in the correct order!

I still have a lot of Heyer’s mysteries left to read and am looking forward to them. They don’t really compare to Agatha Christie’s when it comes to plotting a crime, concealing clues and creating red herrings, but they’re still fun to read. This was a great start to the 1937 Club for me and I’m also enjoying my second book, which I’ve almost finished and will be reviewing later in the week.

Impact of Evidence by Carol Carnac

“The snow and the floods have been abnormal even for these parts,” said Rivers. “I’ve had several investigations in country areas, but I admit I’ve never struck anything quite like St Brynneys. It has a secret quality, and its remoteness affects all the people who live in it.”

First published in 1954, Impact of Evidence has recently been reissued as a British Library Crime Classic. It’s my first Carol Carnac book – I haven’t read Crossed Skis, the other one currently in print – but she also published as E.C.R. Lorac and I’ve read her before under that name. This one is subtitled A Welsh Borders Mystery and is part of a series featuring Chief Inspector Julian Rivers and his sidekick, Inspector Lancing.

The novel begins with a car accident near the village of St Brynneys in the hills of the Welsh borders. Elderly Dr Robinson – whom everyone agrees was too old to be driving – has collided with Bob Parsons’ jeep, with both vehicles being thrown off the road by the impact. Parsons has been lucky and escaped with minor injuries and concussion, but the doctor, whose car has ended up in a stream, has been killed. The Lambton family, who live on a farm nearby, hear the crash and hurry to the rescue, but after retrieving the doctor’s body from the car, they make a shocking discovery. There’s a second body in the back of the car – a man none of the local people have seen before, and as St Brynneys has been cut off from the world for the last few days due to extreme winter weather, nobody knows where he came from.

A local police inspector visits the doctor’s house to try to get to the bottom of the mystery, but when he suffers a fatal accident on the stairs, the mystery only deepens. Chief Inspector Julian Rivers and Inspector Lancing are called in from Scotland Yard, and with the roads still impassable they require the help of the army to access the area. Once they reach St Brynneys, Rivers and Lancing begin their investigations and uncover tensions between the local farming families, the possibility of blackmail and a range of theories to explain the presence of the unidentified corpse.

As my first Carol Carnac book, I’m not sure if there’s anything significantly different between these and her books published as E.C.R. Lorac. The writing style feels very much the same but I haven’t really read enough of her under either name to be able to comment on any other differences. What struck me most about this particular book was the setting and the wonderful atmosphere Carnac creates. The novel is set in a place that has experienced several days of very heavy snowfall, followed by a thaw that has caused flooding, destroying bridges and blocking roads. Carnac’s descriptions of the flooded countryside, the damaged infrastructure and the effect all of this has on a small community really convey a sense of isolation and remoteness. Also, with no routes in or out, this means the suspects (and for that matter, the victims) are limited to people who were already in the area when the snow began.

The actual mystery, I felt, took second place to the setting – which is not to say that it wasn’t interesting, because it was, but I think the descriptions of the snow and the thaw and a society severed from the outside world are what I’ll remember about this book rather than the plot. I’ll try to get round to Crossed Skis at some point and hopefully some more of the Lorac books as well.