Ian Rankin. A Song for the Dark Times. UK: Orion Fiction/Orion Publishing Group Ltd., 2020.
No, the title is not a reference to the Covid-19 blight. John Rebus leaves the comfort of retirement and his new Edinburgh flat to race north for the sake of his daughter Samantha. Rebus’ conscience smites him sharply that he neglected his family for years while policing consumed his time and energy. Sam’s longtime partner Keith is missing, a man Rebus has barely met; unfortunately it’s Rebus who discovers Keith’s dead body in a dilapidated building, part of a former Second World War internment camp. At first neither Sam nor DI Creasey appreciate her father inserting himself into the investigation—try to stop a train!―especially since Keith had recently learned of Sam’s affair with Jesse Hawkins. That makes her a suspect. Keith had been almost obsessed with the old camp; along with a few locals, he’d hoped to restore it as a tourist attraction. But the landowner, Lord Strathy, was unwilling to sell, having his own plans for redevelopment.
Rebus gets to know the locals in this outpost region, reading Keith’s copious notes and plans, trying to follow his trail—whose laptop and latest notes are missing. The neighbours include a few elderly who were interned in that very camp which had its own wartime murder. Meanwhile Rebus’ good friend, detective Siobhan Clarke, is working the murder case of Salman bin Mahmoud, a wealthy young man who was being entertained in high society and business circles. Partnered with Siobhan, whether she likes it or not, is Malcolm Fox from Major Crimes (both are Rankin “regulars”). Even drugs kingpin Big Ger Cafferty sticks his nose in with some tricky blackmail to keep Fox on his toes. The surprises come faster in concluding each case, with only slight damage to Rebus. Typically satisfying Rankin (and only one mention of the Oxford Pub).
Up North
▪ “Italians and Germans who’d been in the country for generations found themselves locked up. Later on, it was proper war criminals ‒ Nazi hard-liners and the like.” (65)
▪ “She’s got a lot to process, you need to understand that. Right now, you’re collateral damage.” (124)
▪ The building was the full bagpipe-baronial, with turrets and a plethora of crowstep gables. (126)
▪ “You’re not having her, Creasey. No way I’m letting that happen.” (148)
▪ The voice was slightly high-pitched, Germanic but with touches of Scots intonation. “If others wish to remember, so be it.” (216)
▪ “This is what we’re supposed to do, isn’t it? Make tea and pretend it makes everything bearable for a while?” (258)
Edinburgh
▪ “I think I hear the faint rustle of straws being clutched at by a police force that couldn’t find its own backside on a dimly lit bidet.” (45)
▪ “Is this where you tell me your intuition’s sharper than mine? Maybe that’s why you deserved the promotion they handed to me?” (54)
▪ “What matters is that this is your fast track to promotion once she’s installed in the top job.” (78)
▪ The younger model of gangster tended to have no boundaries and no off-switch. (90)
▪ “Got to admit, though, you’re a lot craftier than I gave you credit for.” (151)
▪ “The one thing this country does not do well is weather.” (180)
Fox joins the team
“Well said. I’ll leave the two of you to find a spare chair from somewhere and then get reacquainted.”
They watched Sutherland retreat to his office. Fox held out a hand.
“Welcome aboard.”
Clarke stared at the hand. “My town, my ship. You’re the passenger here.” She heard Tess Leighton stifle a laugh. Fox’s face began to redden.
“Same old Siobhan,” he eventually said. “Light on charm, heavy on offensive. Almost like you learned from the master.” (21)
Sam’s affair
“You know he found out about Hawkins from an anonymous note ‒ any thoughts on who would do something like that?”
“I don’t like the idea that anyone would do that.” She made eye contact with Rebus. “If you’re asking me whether Keith might have bottled his feelings up – it’s entirely possible. I’m sure it rankled that the whole village knew. Must have gnawed away at him, wondering why none of them said anything. He was definitely more withdrawn afterwards.” (116-7)
Wily Cafferty
She stopped just short of the door, turning so she was face to face with him. “He tapes everything that happens in his club, Malcolm. What makes you think he stops there?”
“The car?”
“All it takes is for him to switch on his phone’s voice memo app. Plus you’ve been in his penthouse. Chances are everything you’ve said there has been recorded.”
Fox couldn’t help looking over his shoulder at the car. It was staring to move, but Cafferty had left the rear window open, his eyes on the two detectives as he passed.
“He’s won,” Fox said quietly, statement rather than question. “I feel a bit sick.” (199)
Rumaan Alam. Leave the World Behind. Ebook download from TPL. USA: Ecco/HarperCollins, 2020.
Clay and Amanda rent an idyllic vacation house in the most isolated reach of Long Island; their teenagers Archie and Rose are content with the pool and Netflix. Not long after a blissful settling in to sunbathing, they find the internet is unavailable, the television displays only the blue screen “Emergency Broadcast” without explanation, and the phone landline doesn’t work. Of course it’s a bit disturbing—a modern family, they are all addicted to their now silent cell phones for communication and information―but must be temporary. That night they are frightened by an unexpected arrival at their door, the sixty-ish house owners, George and Ruth; when New York blacked out they knew they were unable to climb to their 14th floor condo and drove across Long Island to their second home. Awkward! Even with ID satisfactorily established, Amanda is still suspicious of their story. Let them stay or leave, who decides? Clay chooses bonhomie: after all, it’s their house and so they must stay the night.
The four adults exchange speculation about possible causes of the blackout, scenarios pessimistic, optimistic, scary, or reassuring; they’re testing personal boundaries, how they will co-exist for a while. Next day no one agrees on what to do while sensing a major shift in the very atmosphere. George blames the problem on stock market fluctuations, Ruth wants to be with her grandchildren. Clay feels friendly but useless, Amanda feels resentful at strangers being in her house, albeit rented. Clay’s drive to the local village for information merely gets him lost. The children are oblivious until a piercing, supersonic sound burns fear into all their brains. What in the world is happening?! Brief hints of apocalyptic disaster arise. Tensions in the house build to unbearable proportions. No spoilers here ... Alam keeps you glued to each page, waiting for the change that’s coming.
Teasers
▪ It was pleasant to sit outside, near naked, the sun and air on your skin reminding you that you’re just another animal. (27)
▪ Amanda tried to communicate something to her husband, but one look couldn’t contain it. (61)
▪ His gesture indicated everything around them. Who could answer for the world at large? Was it even ... still there? (109)
▪ He had driven out to show everyone that he was a man, in control, and now he was lost and felt ridiculous. (132)
▪ “Without our phones, it turns out we’re basically marooned out here.” That’s what it was. The feeling was withdrawal. (141)
▪ We have the pool, these brie and chocolate sandwiches, and though we’re strangers to one another, sure, we have one another too. (142)
▪ She blamed it on these people. They’d knocked on the door and ruined everything. (189)
▪ “That’s a flamingo.” She said it even though it was obvious. A pink bird was a flamingo. (246)
Liz Nugent. Little Cruelties. Ebook download from TPL. UK: Simon & Schuster, 2020.
Three Drumm brothers take sibling rivalry to astral heights as they revolve around the film and music scenes of Dublin ... and beyond. William becomes a film producer; Luke becomes a young rock star who burns out fast; Brian, after a teaching gig, intermittently acts as Luke’s manager. The opening scene of the book is a funeral of one brother; we are not told who died, but the grimness implies it was a murder. Thus we expect to receive clues as we read on into their background and career paths. Each brother in turn relates important events and influences in his life, providing considerable contrast with the others regarding the same occasions and family scenes. In large part this consists of taking every opportunity to criticize or demean the other two. Mother Melissa, a theatre star in her own right, is a narcissist who has never met the concept of nurture.
Will marries Susan, the woman Brian secretly loves. Will is also a #MeToo creep, a serial cheater. Luke is diagnosed as extreme bipolar, not helped by his periodic drug and alcohol binges. He loves Kate but Will saw her first. Brian finds financial advantage in assisting Luke through his yo-yo life, the latter going from washed up singer to film star. The arguments and interference in each others’ lives cause public scandals—they are all well-known figures. Trust in each other is always an issue; sometimes betrayal is not too strong a word. In rare moments, they pull together, but can furious tempers or psychotic episodes lead to killing? Will’s daughter Daisy grows up in this emotional brew of dynamics and dramatics. As Brian says at one point, “The Drumms sounded like characters from a Greek tragedy or the shoddiest soap opera there ever was.” Nugent presents an absorbing, unforgettable look from the inside out, at dysfunction to the max. She could have called it Major Cruelties.
💥What they say about themselves or what is said about them:
Will
▪ I was not unfaithful to Susan. It was only sex. (40)
▪ I did not leave my family. My wife rejected and evicted me, so she wasn’t the victim or the martyr she pretended to be. (82)
▪ “We are not here for a fucking holiday so that you can pick up women. We are here to find Luke, assess his situation, and bring him home if that’s what he needs. You are such a wanker! A married wanker!” (112)
▪ I didn’t have time for Luke. If Brian was going to live off him, he could do the babysitting. (123)
▪ Will takes what he wants. He always has. (291)
▪ “By the way, I didn’t want to mention it at the time, but your brother is a shithead. Not Luke, Will.” (324)
Brian
▪ Because his work was erratic, Brian always had more time to do the caring stuff, like helping Mum with her car insurance and house maintenance and seeing to Luke’s prescriptions and psychiatric consults. (71)
▪ “I’m the family joke, the loser, the one without a glittering career in the media.” (187)
▪ Brian had come to my rescue many times, but now I understand that he’d done it to justify the money he took; not out of love or care for me, but as a job. (272)
▪ But mostly I was incandescent with rage that he could do to Luke what he’s done to me, and steal the love of his life. (347)
▪ “What’s not cool, Luke, is that Brian has been selling your stories to the tabloids for years.” (397)
▪ In all kinds of small ways, I broke down the trust Daisy had in Susan and Will. (383)
Luke
▪ Will said it was a pity I wasn’t better looking and that my voice wasn’t stronger. Brian said I should really start going back to lectures because the band was never going to break through. (168)
▪ It depressed me that these children looked to me as a hero, their idol, when I knew I had nothing to offer anyone. I was a pop star with the right looks, writing predictably cheesy tunes, who could fill stadiums and arenas all over Europe, but I was scared and lonely.
▪ Mum and I had called a truce of sorts. Now that I was an unemployed pop star, I fitted perfectly into her role for me as a failure, and it suited us both. (256)
▪ “You were always a mental kid. I don’t know why you weren’t taken to a shrink much earlier.” (264)
▪ I had been in love exactly once, with Kate, who made me a better person. (277)
▪ Luke and Mum were more alike than either of them would ever admit. Two has-beens clawing at the dregs of their earlier successes.
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