Library Limelights 164

Camilla Lackberg. The Girl in the Woods. 2017. UK: HarperCollinsPublishers, 2018.

Ahh .. seduced by overblown bestseller hype, I had a senior moment forgetting this is an author I had previous reservations about (isn't that why I began to record my reading?!). Same town in Sweden, same half-incompetent cops who make you want to scream at their procedural lapses, especially their boss Mellberg. A little girl, Linnea, is found dead in the exact spot a similar four-year-old, Stella, was killed thirty years before. Two thirteen-year-old girls were convicted in the old case. Now Helen still lives in her childhood home, a fragile woman burdened with secrets. Her pal Marie went on to success as a gorgeous but emotionally absent film star. The police try to connect the two cases, but there are so many characters here, it gets tiresome remembering which teenager belongs to which parent and why they are all angry.

The almost six hundred pages could have been cut way down to tighten up. As it is, it's not just the overall looseness of tackling of too many themes — bullying, hate crimes, refugee immigration, child neglect, witchcraft; they are handled as if to create suspense (and sometimes do) but we are distracted by all the domestic issues of five different cops. At the same time, author Erica is writing a book about the first murder. Add to that not one, but two, parallel stories and the weight self-flattens. I don't care if Paula's mother is getting married; I don't want to hear repetitive descriptions such as a child's hair glowing in the sun. In spite of the verbiage, the characters' various inner struggles are not always clear and some of their behaviour is less than credible. The graphic scenes of assault and torture could have been modified, thank you. Am I being unfair?

One-liners:

She looked up and met Peter's gaze, which was just as shattered as her own. (76)

"We're sitting here with a big mess on our hands, and we need to sort it out somehow." (287)

All across Sweden, refugee centres had been set on fire, and in most cases no one had been arrested. (352)

She prayed until her legs went numb and her arms lost all feeling. (402)

Two-liner: His longing for home was so sharp, and remorse tore apart all the hope he'd had for a better life. He was shipwrecked. (525)

Sam:

Sam knew he'd be able to hit the target, even at that distance. He'd been practising at greater distances during the periods when James was away. But for some reason he didn't want to show his father exactly how good a shot he was. He didn't want to give him the satisfaction of thinking his son had inherited something from him. He didn't deserve any credit. Everything in Sam's life was in spite of James, not thanks to him. (94)

Marie:

She wanted to be rid of all the thoughts that had started haunting her when people began talking about the missing girl. All those memories of a laughing Stella running ahead of her and Helen. 

Marie sighed. She was here now, about to play her dream role. This was what she'd been working towards for so many years; it was the thing that had kept her going after the roles in Hollywood dried up. She'd earned this part, and she was a good actress. It didn't take much effort to immerse herself in a role, pretending to be someone else; after all, she'd had plenty of practice, ever since she was a child. Lying or acting ‒ there was so little difference between the two. She'd learned to master both early on. (70)

James:

The older he got, the less reason he saw to go home. The military was his home. This did not mean he looked upon his men as family; anyone who thought soldiers regarded their comrades as brothers couldn't be more wrong. The troops serving under him were pawns, a means to an end. And that was what he longed to return to. Logic. Pure, simple lines. Easy answers. He was never involved in the process that required difficult questions. That was politics. That was power. And money. Nothing ever had to do with humanity, aid, or even peace. Everything had to do with who had power over whom, and to whom the flood of money would be steered through political manoeuvring. That was the extent of it. People were so naive, always wanting to ascribe nobler motives to their leaders. (251-2)

Helen in retrospect:

Sometimes Helen envied Marie. Maybe things were better where she was now. Maybe she'd found a good home with nice people who liked her. That was her hope, at any rate, even though the thought filled her with jealousy. 

In the meantime, she had ended up in a prison far worse than any with bars on the windows. Her life was no longer her own. In the daytime her parents watched every move she made. At night her dreams haunted her, with the same scenes playing over and over. She was never free even for a second. 

She was thirteen years old, and her life was over before it had even started. There was nothing but lies. Sometimes she longed for the truth, but she knew she could never allow the truth to cross her lips. It was too big, too overwhelming. The truth would destroy everything. (432)

Nathan Dylan Goodwin. The Wicked Trade. Self-published, 2018.

Goodwin scores again in the 7th of his Morton Farrier, Forensic Genealogist series. Possibly his most interesting case yet appears in the form of Arthur Fothergill who wants to learn more about a formative period in the life of his great-grandmother Ann Fothergill. And who fathered her son?! Arthur knows from family papers and an old newspaper source that by 1820, young Ann was living a reprehensible life in and out of prison for petty crimes. Yet by 1827 she was the owner of an inn on the south coast of Kent. Morton's challenge is to find what transformed her in those years. In a word: smuggling. And there Goodwin shines, in his knowledge of uncommonly-used research sources and local history. The "wicked trade" flourished at the time, thus we meet numerous rugged characters of the era and area, complete with skulduggery, murder, and vernacular dialogue.

The switch back and forth in time is handled well although some points could have been clarified or elaborated, such as the attraction between Sam and Ann. Equally interesting is Morton's own bizarre family story that continues to unfold. His daughter Grace turns one year old, the occasion for overseas visitors and the first meeting in forty years of Morton's biological parents. Some bafflement on my part: Why did Morton haul out Jack's old love letters to Margaret in front of everyone, letters that Margaret had never seen before? The DNA evidence of paternity was a bit fuzzy since one of Ann's love liaisons died without issue; how did the use of online family trees and Lost Cousins prove the father of Ann's son? Nevertheless, Goodwin and Morton do engaging work pulling off surprises here!

One-liners:

And he still did not actually know if the two men had been interred in the fireplace during Ann's tenure of the pub. (109)

There was a bloody good chance that this crappy little outhouse held the solution to all of his problems. (299)

Two-liner:

She caught herself feeling the weight of the guineas in her purse and dropped her hand away. It was useless to deny that she craved a glass of rum. (169)

Baby talk:

"Welcome back!" Morton greeted, throwing his arms around the pair of them. "I've missed you," he said, planting a kiss on each of their mouths. 

Juliette sighed and passed Grace over to him. 

"Dadda!" Grace said, with a smile. 

Morton, mouth agape, stared at Juliette. "She just called me Dadda!" 

Juliette grinned. "Typical that's her first word. I've spent most of the last two days trying to get her to say Mummy." She leant into Grace and spoke softly: "Mummy. Mummy." 

Grace stared at Juliette. "Dadda." (82)

Oneupmanship:

Ann nodded. "What say ‒ quitter for quatter, like ‒ that I not be moving on tomorrow and be lodging here a while longer? Happen, then, I be forgetting all about men that pay you in the night time."Hester's narrowed eyes displayed such bilious anger. Short snorts of air fumed from her nostrils, as, with hands on her hips, she contemplated Ann's threat. 

Ann stretched exaggeratedly, as though she had all the time in the world to wait for Hester's decision. In her peripheral vision she spotted movement outside. Sam was walking the path to the house. Ann danced her way to the door and pulled it open. "Sam, what a delight. We be just talking about you.""What grabby weather," Sam complained, removing his boots, shooting curious looks between the two women. (103)

Kindred deconstruct:

Morton took several photographs of the occasion, very keen to immortalise the day forever. He then handed the camera to Lucy and asked her to photograph the family group. Switching to playback, he zoomed in to the image. In the centre were he, Juliette and Grace, a scene of relative normality. Beside Juliette was her mother, Margot. The further he pulled out of the picture, the more bonkers it became: his American biological father with his wife; his biological mother (who was also his adoptive aunt) with her husband; his half-brother Jeremy (who was actually biologically his cousin, and yet more familial to him than his actual half-brother, George, who was at the edge of the image, frowning) and his Australian husband; and finally, his deceased adoptive father's fiancée, Madge. 

A perfectly normal family. (208)

M.R. Hall. The Redeemed. UK: Mantle/Macmillan Publishers Limited, 2011.

Severn Vale District Coroner Jenny Cooper is persuaded to hold an inquest on the death of former porn actress Eva Donaldson, even though a mentally disturbed man confessed to her murder. It takes considerable time for Jenny to understand why her decision set off so many alarm bells among religious, political, and police circles. As well, two recent suicides may be tied into the case. Jenny comes as close as she ever had to being turfed out of office. Pity the jurors faced with overwhelming legal representation and recalcitrant witnesses at the inquest! Jenny's relentless search for the truth does not apply to close examination of her personal, hidden trauma but a breakthrough finally occurs.

Interesting tangential references to a Jesuit's Catholicism and spokespersons for the evangelical church that happens to be endorsed by a prominent MP. The latter is shepherding a bill through parliament that will curb access to pornography, with a reformed Donaldson as its poster girl. Wealthy interests want it stopped. Treatment of the mentally ill also plays a part. Sadly, Jenny is missing the mysterious McAvoy who does not reappear from an earlier novel. Coroner's Court is unique in the British justice system, and the M.R. Hall series brilliantly leads us through the procedure every time; legal complications always arise. Trust me, it will more than satisfy the legal eagles among crime fiction fans. I defy anyone not to like Jenny and her adventures.

One-liners:

"You're quite the detective, Father," Jenny said, feeling a stab of unchristian hostility. (48)

It was now officially undeniable: being professionally competent meant being a bad mother. (91)

If there was a fate worse than death, Jenny thought, it had come to her father. (161)

The power of a taped confession was such, Jenny soon realized, that only the most cynical and experienced of lawyers could resist its allure. (194)

The British civil courts accorded total anonymity only to royalty and the extremely rich. (276)

More hostility:

"I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll ask the pathologist to complete his examination today. That way you can have Eva's body tomorrow, and I give you my word I'll deal with this matter as swiftly and discreetly as I can." 

"Before the Decency Bill has its first reading?" 

She guessed he had been speaking to Turnbull; they were men who would understand each other. 

Donaldson held her in a steady, evaluating gaze. "You understand my cynicism, Mrs Cooper. This industry my daughter was working to shut down isn't a sideshow, it's a powerful force. Its interests are secretly owned by many hugely successful businesses. These are people who would stop at nothing, baulk at corrupting no one, to protect their revenue." 

"If anyone offers me a brown envelope you'll be the first to know. Meanwhile, can I assume you'll allow me a day before making a complaint?" 

"No. You're a bloody fool and deserve whatever's coming to you." Donaldson rose from his chair. "If I were you, Mrs Cooper, I'd be wary of far more than brown envelopes." (84-5)

Son confronts Jenny:

"Is it something that happened to you?" 

"What?" 

"Dad says it sounds like post-traumatic stress disorder. Apparently sometimes it can be some tiny thing that sets up a reaction in the brain, like being frightened by a dog. Something can trigger it years later." 

"He's a psychiatrist as well as a heart surgeon now, is he?" 

"Was there something?" 

"Ross, please. We've talked about this before. I've been through a tough time and now I'm getting better." She forced a smile. 

"Mum, you've started not looking at people when you're talking to them. Your hands shake. You don't get better by taking more pills. Someone's got to be honest enough to tell you that." (118-9)

Court is now in session:

It was an impressive array of legal talent and the nods and smiles they exchanged amongst themselves told Jenny that despite representing different clients they were united in wanting the same result, and quickly. Her suspicions were confirmed when, as Alison swore in the eight jurors who had been chosen by lot from a pool of fourteen, the lawyers huddled and whispered to one another, as if finalizing battle plans. 

The preliminaries dealt with, Jenny turned to address the newly empanelled jurors, who sat in two rows of seats to her left positioned at ninety degrees to her and the advocates' desks. In an arrangement far more intimate than that found in a regular courtroom, the six women and two men would sit in the thick of the action, almost within touching distance of the small table and chair which would serve as a witness box; close enough to Jenny and the lawyers to spot every tic and gesture. (189-90)