For ten years, Maigret has been in the habit of dining with
his friend Dr Pardon. Even though they don’t use each other’s Christian names,
the doctor ranks among one of Maigret’s closest friends.
It’s after one such dinner that Pardon contacts Maigret to
seek advice. Following their social evening, a couple arrive at the doctor’s
home in the early hours, the woman needing urgent attention. The woman, a blond
beauty from northern Europe, has been shot in the back and the man claims to
have been an innocent bystander who found her in the street after witnessing
the drive-by shooting. Once the
treatment has been given and the doctor has set about tidying up, the couple
disappear, driving off in a swanky red Alfa Romeo that is later found at the
airport.
The next day, a wealthy Lebanese gambler is found dead by
his maid. He’s been shot and his attractive Dutch wife is nowhere to be seen.
The other members of the household, an offhand secretary who is like a brother
to the victim and a group of servants who work in unusual ways, appear to know
nothing about anything.
Maigret’s attempts to see behind the thick curtains or
resistance that are being held firmly closed by all concerned soon come to
fruition as he pieces together the evidence by following his intuition to shed
light on the truth.
The Nahour case is nicely set up and the limited cast offers
a traditional whodunit of real quality. It’s tense and puzzling and a pleasure
to read, though the ultimate conclusion felt a tad flimsy given the pleasure
offered by the journey and the atmospheric settings.
Here’s another gem from Don Winslow. The kind of book that
had me relishing the prospect of returning to the pages to find out how the
hell things were going to play out. It’s a long, deep, fast, tense, gripping,
entertaining and slightly flawed noir to my mind and one I can highly recommend.
This one’s an in-depth study of the Manhattan North task
force (da Force) run by the king of the area Detective Sergeant Denny Malone
and his team. They rule their patch with a mixture of power and fear and the
more subtle art of building relationships and finding balances. There are
snitches, murderers, victims, bosses, addicts, pushers, family and politicians
to juggle, so ruling the land isn’t an easy business. Throw in the rivalries
between gangs and their drug-lords and the racial tensions of the city and it’s
one hell of a melting pot.
The dynamics of the team are altered dramatically following
the death of the darling of the bunch, Billy O. Not only does it leave the band
of brothers devastated, it leads them into a new level of corruption that they
may never have imagined.
The disintegration, or rather the re-defining, of the moral
code in the task force is a slow process. It’s been happening from the early
days of their careers and has build up one tiny step after another, toe-by-toe
movements to begin with, giant strides as time has gone on.
It’s not long before internal affairs and the Federal Bureau
get involved and Malone is forced to cross a line he never imagined he could be
forced over. He’s on a slippery slope and even with his strong and determined
fingers, he slowly loses control of the information he is expected to provide.
As the world closes in, it’s impossible to imagine an ending
the story that will satisfy every need. As much as I was desperate to find out
how things played out, I also wanted to see how a master could close out the
game. Truth be told, it’s a master stroke and the satisfaction as I read the
final page was immense.
The Force (US) is a great read and an epic one. It has all the
ingredients of a thriller that you could possible want. The emotional
engagement is total and the intensity of the involvement is high.
Not that this is my favourite Winslow read. There were a couple
of issues, some of them personal, that I’ve been trying to work out since
finishing.
Mr Winslow often has a rather poetic style that builds into
rhythms and paces which are beautiful to behold. I didn’t feel them here, which
is perhaps because of the nature of this beast. I missed that aspect to the
read.
There are also sections where the momentum changes
significantly. This is inevitable. After running at a sprint for long sections,
there has to be space to take a breather. A couple of times this switch was
jarring. This sometimes comes in the form of the nostalgic tales of police work. They're wonderful in their own right and add the background I love, but they are by nature reflective and therefore can stand in the way of the movement of the story. It’s a small thing, but I’m mentioning it anyway.
And the big one for me lies in the whole perspective of
watching the corrupt world of systems designed to protect. There’s a quote
from Stephen King on the cover of my copy, ‘Think The Godfather, only with cops’, which is actually nicely put. When
we’re dealing with gangsters and criminals, the fact that they can are butchers
capable of the lowest acts of depravity can be romanticised by the sense of
loyalty, order and regulation. When respect and honour are brought into play,
the darkest villain can be viewed sympathetically. Turning this on its head isn’t
so easy. Where you start with a code that’s pure in its intention and corrupt the
hell out of it, those codes and bonds may be strong, but it’s far more
difficult to sympathise with dirty cops than honourable scum. The guys of the
force are absolute bastards in the way they rule their streets, vent their
prejudices and treat their loved ones. Even when the point is made that the
work and the success of keeping peace and order requires a certain level of
toughness and demands that the cops see and experience things none of the rest of us would
want to even think about, it’s an uneasy shift. Winslow did manage to drag me
in to root for these guys and that is a testament to his level of skill. Every
so often, though, the levels of behaviour gave me a swift kick to remind me that
there was thinking to be done. The opening of the book lists the names (three
pages worth) of law enforcement personnel who were murdered in the line of
duty during the period of writing. It’s a brilliant mark of respect and a frighteningly long list, so what
follows in terms of the corruption is magnified in intensity and is even harder to
swallow.
Now the dust has settled for me, a week on from my read, as
well as the strength of the story the unpicking of the tiers of the justice and
the political system stick hard and fast. It seems like the further one rises
up the ladder, the bigger the payouts become. Power corrupts and absolute power
corrupts absolutely and I know that it’s only a work of fiction but the levels
of are stomach churning. I was left feeling angry about so many things and
wonder if I can channel that anger into ways of making changes in some way.
Having just witnessed the arrival of Boris Johnson at Number 10, I have to
wonder if things can ever really be changed as another product of wealth and the
elite private education takes the reins and sets up cabinet to reflect whatever
underhand and unethical promises were made during his campaign for leadership.
Meanderings over.
You should read this one.
And when you do, may da force be with you.
Mme Monde jumps the queue at the police station using the
arrogance of status to set up an appointment with the superintendent. Her
husband has gone missing, leaving her in a difficult financial position that
requires that he be found.
Monsieur Monde, however, has no intention of being located.
Nobody has noticed it was his 48th birthday and, unless he does
something drastic, his anniversaries will remain unmarked until he reaches the
grave. The stifling world of work, respectability, the disappointment in his
family and his mundane routines are the sum of his protected life and he
finally decides to do something he has longed for before – to leave it all
behind and start again by joining the people he has observed getting on with
things without pretention or expectation.
He removes a huge amount of cash from the bank, trades his
tailored suit in for something off the peg, shaves off his moustache and boards
the train for Marseilles.
From his hotel room, he overhears the violent breakup
of a couple and, worrying for the safety of the woman involved, goes to
intervene. Before long, he and Julie are joined at the hip. She’s free and easy
in her skin and it’s not long before their relationship becomes physical.
They head to Nice, home of minor celebrities and those in
search of a good time. An unfortunate series of events follows, though Monsieur
Monde is untroubled. It’s precisely the challenges of daily life and the weightlessness
of lacking purpose that he sought. He winds up working in an illegal gambling
establishment where his job involves the careful observation of the clientele.
All seems to be going well until the appearance of the morphine-addled Empress
and her sidekick, who just happens to be Monde’s first wife. Action is required
and Monde is once again reminded that it takes more than the removal of a
moustache to change one’s way of being.
This is a story that really had me hooked. It’s difficult
not to care for M. Monde from the off, to admire his decision and his courage. In
waiting for everything to work out, each of his actions and encounters adds a
new layer of tension. The stifling world of cheap hotel rooms and seedy bars offers Monde a sense of liberation as he sucks in the simple pleasures
of the world. The cold ways of his wife are a polar opposite to the honest
affection of Julie and his new friends. The freedom of his daily grind is a stark
change from the mechanical motions of success.
All in all, it’s a terrific piece that falls slightly short as it wraps up. The ending was unexpected and, though satisfying , there may
have been a more engaging conclusion. My favourite sections all came early on,
those following the thought processes of Monde as he decides to take the leap
and is taken up by the flow of life like a leaf in a fast-flowing river.
Small Presses = Life Blood for titles and talent that don't get a look in on the mainstream shelves. It helps to encourage new writing that isn't constrained by the need to make a huge profit and, therefore, allows freedom to be whatever an author wants to be.
Not that the small presses don't need to make money. It takes effort and commitment to keep an independent publisher going and a little reward for that effort, whether that be to compensate for some of the time invested, to offer encouragement that it's worth carrying on or to help to keep afloat and invest in future titles really matters. Buying a book or two is a great way to offer support, to say thanks and to ensure the material you enjoy reading continues to be available.
It's even easier to do that when you purchase a title during the Indie Crime Crawl. I'm a little late to the party, but if you purchase a book before the 21st July directly from the publisher, you'll get a range of deals. Check out what's on offer by following #indiecrimecrawl over on Twitter.
I believe the Down and Out Books family are offering 20% discount (by applying the code indiecc20) or 25% discount for purchases totalling $50 or more (using indiecc25).
There's some pretty cool merchandise out there, too, if your shelves are already croaking.
The list of those involved is on the picture at the top of the post and none of them will disappoint, I'm sure.
Go check it out. You know you want to:
Shotgun Honey
Down And Out Books
All Due Respect
Polis Books
Prospect Park Books
Fahrenheit Press
69 Crime
ECW Press
Red Dog Press
Run Amok Books
Orenda Books
Crippen and Landru
The Dome Press
A body is found in the Bois de Boulogne, face bashed in and
in an unnatural position. Fumel, acting on instinct, calls Superintendant
Maigret even though it’s against current procedural policy.
Maigret knows the victim, but is unable to take an active
role because he’s investigating a series of armed robberies in his beloved
Paris. His curiosity, however, has been sparked and he can’t help becoming
involved. He immerses himself in the world of the victim (the Swiss, Honore
Cuendet). Maigret’s affection and respect for the dead burglar grow as he
learns more about the victim’s solitary, self-contained lifestyle.
With typical attention to detail, old-fashioned police work
and the odd slice of good fortune, both cases are eventually solved, though
only one is taken to its full conclusion.
The beauty of Idle Burglar lies in the revealing insights
into Maigret’s feelings. As an old man, he’s acutely aware of the changes in
the world of the police and in his city. The vulnerability this creates allows
him to take chances and set about pleasing himself more than ever: he shares
information with his wife; leaves the office whenever he pleases; and shows
real tenderness to Cuendet’s mother and respect and friendship to his long-term
colleagues. These dimensions add a little extra to the usual Simenon and place
this right at the top of the Maigret tree.
And if there ever was a book to get you hankering of a
simple life of wine sipping and world watching, this is probably it.
