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CJ Carver describes herself as “half-English, half-Kiwi” and Spare me the truth is the first of her novels I have read, despite it being the eighth she has written.  And I will be reading more!  Spare me the truth is a complex thriller with brilliant plotting that keeps the reader guessing how all the various threads of the story are ever going to weave together.  There are three main storylines, one involving G.P. Grace Reavey, who starts finding out about the secret life of her mother, after being threatened at her mother’s funeral.  The second features Dan Forrester, a man suffering from amnesia, the nature of which is called into question after he is contacted by Grace’s mother prior to her death.  And the third is the story of Lucy Davies, a young cop who has been sent to the boonies from the Met after she has exhibited some forthright behaviour at work.  There are fragments of cases uncovered in each of the storylines – and there is a teaser Prologue as well, where we meet Stella, Grace’s mother, and that has to be fitted into the puzzle.  The fragments involve grisly deaths, third world dumping, Big Pharma and sonic weapons – and yes they do all tie together in the end.  And as well as the technicalities of the story we are drawn into the personal lives of the three main characters.  Dan’s amnesia has resulted from extreme trauma – and his belief in his apparently stable and supportive family becomes very shaky as his accepted history is called into question.  Grace is thrown by her discoveries about her mother, and also by the uncertainty resulting from her partner wanting to move to remote Scotland.  And my favourite character, Lucy (“… didn’t want to get caught without a corkscrew or a sugar hit when the going got tough”) is constantly fighting her tendency to ‘liveliness’, knowing that this ‘problem’ is why she has been banished from the Met – to which she is desperate to return.  But things get more complicated for Lucy when she realises her confusing condition might actually be part of the case she is working on – but that if she admits to her problem it might stymie her career plans for good.  And to make matters more complicated still, the object of a haunting one night stand turns up to head her investigation.  All so engrossing – the only slightly jarring note for me was the phone calls from Chennai, they were a great part of the puzzle solving but do young Indian men really constantly talk in the present progressive: “I cannot be telling you this, … I must to be taking him a message, … How can I be helping you?”  Spare me the truth is a great read – and from CJ Carver’s website it would appear there are more Dan Forrester novels to come.  Excellent!

In my last review of a Grant Nicol book – The mistake, also set in Iceland – I suggested a longer novel might allow us more time to get to know his characters, saving them from the “all women are victims, prostitutes or evil; all men are well meaning, just following orders or psychologically damaged” array.  A place to bury strangers is a full-length novel – but we haven’t really moved on in terms of characterisation.  I had hopes for Eygló (no surname provided) – a woman copper who seemed to have a bit of nous, but she disappears from the narrative very early on – after having been called to the murder scene where a low-down-in-the-chain drug dealer has been incinerated, and a message in Norwegian written in black paint on the wall behind him.  She is called off (from the crime scene and the novel) when she and her partner get word that a policeman has been shot.  That policeman is Detective Grímur Karlsson, who we know from earlier novels.  And Karlsson is even more depressed now – he is ageing, and unpopular at work from having a habit of not solving crimes (or rather letting perpetrators go due to a confused moral compass).  Karlsson has been shot whilst following a young woman he fears is in danger and things not going well.  Karlsson’s boss Ævar – worried about his job – focusses on a Norwegian for both crimes.  This Norwegian’s frequent visits to Iceland are always accompanied by crimes that, until now, don’t really worry the Police, as they all involve damaging drug dealers.  The novel jumps about all over the place time-wise (in part I suppose because of Karlsson being out of action for most of the ‘current’ timeline) – and the only way I could keep track was to memorise the date of the incineration and shooting and therefore knowing what events were ‘before’ and which ‘after’.  Laid out in a line the novel is about illegal migrant workers and their vulnerability, women and their vulnerability, the evil of drugs, and the corruption of the elite – oddly enough in this case circling around Icelandic fishing quota.  And all of these topics are relevant and worthy of a crime novel, and Iceland is a great setting, but with all combined A place to bury strangers doesn’t really get to the heart of any of them.  We get the stories of many women, and their end is implied, but their journey ignored.  We almost get to know Knut Vigeland ‘The Norwegian’, we almost get to know Svandís the young drug addict, we almost get to know many characters who I would have liked to know.  And despite the long paragraphs on Karlsson’s world weariness I still didn’t get to understand him – some of his ethical calls sounding decidedly dodgy.  And do they really talk of ‘lollies’ in Iceland?  Despite this review there is much to enjoy in this novel – the atmosphere is good and the situations inventive – it was just too busy for my taste.

The second in Hayton’s Ngaire Blakes series and another great read!  Ngaire is still coming to terms with traumas suffered prior to and during the first installment (The three deaths of Magdalene Lynton) and is working temporarily in a law firm.  When two horrific murders put her in the frame as a suspect she bolts up North to seek refuge with her estranged father Patariki, and his just about off-the-grid mates.  We learn more about Ngaire’s background – not only her Dad but also her wannabe actress Mum Maralyn, who lives in Los Angeles.  With Ngaire up North the novel is run in parallel, with her police mates in Christchurch investigating the murders and her trying to piece things together in her new hostile environment.  Both victims were counsellors Ngaire had consulted, and when a long ago former colleague is attacked the pieces start falling into place – but probably not soon enough for Ngaire to escape becoming a victim herself.  Especially given that those back in Christchurch are following a false trail – or are they?  The plotting is very clever, the resolutions of the various plot-lines satisfying – and in one case quite chilling – and there are some genuinely thrilling, and moving, moments.  As with the previous book Ngaire is a flawed character who is not great at fitting in or reading those around her, but again those around her see her in a better light than she sees herself.  The end hints at more Blakes mysteries – here’s hoping!

This is cold case mystery story telling at its best – in fact the case was determined not to be a case at all forty years ago when a determination of accidental drowning was made – but now there is more than one person claiming responsibility for the death of Magdalene Lynton, and a lot more suspects turning up. And what makes the solving of this cold case so satisfying is the character determined to sort out what actually happened – Detective Ngaire Blakes.  Blakes is a cop with a traumatic incident in her recent history, and she encounters more such incidents as this story progresses.  She is a physical and mental wreck, and does a good deal of the investigating while not officially working for the Police – off on sick leave.  She carries guilt and fear, and misreads her work environment completely – she also does a quite reprehensible thing to her friend and colleague during the story.  In other words: she is a mess, but she is also determined to give Magdalene some measure of justice.  Blake becomes involved in Magdalene’s story when Paul Worthington, a frail man with terminal cancer, arrives at the Police Station to confess to the crime.  When Blakes puts Worthington’s version of events alongside what was discovered at the time of the death, and all of that alongside the scant information gleaned from surviving witnesses, the pieces don’t fit.  Blakes is assisted in her investigations (both official and unofficial) by two friends.  First is her Police colleague Deb, and second a reporter Finlay – whose background knowledge of the victim and the religious community she came from was the only thing in the plot I found slightly contrived.  We discover Blakes through her colleagues and the reaction of those she interviews – as her own appraisal of herself is tainted by trauma and guilt.  She is compassionate and brave – worthy of forgiveness and loyalty – someone who looks beyond the obvious to try and get to the truth.  She makes judgements about other characters by what she finds out about how they behave rather than what they tell her about themselves – and I really liked that the reader also starts to judge Blakes by her deeds and not what her thoughts ‘tell’ you about her.  Forty years of silence about what happened to Magdalene testifies to the fact that Blakes is not the only character to err when judging their own culpability and worth.  Magdalene’s story is tragic and the characters we meet: e.g. the lawyer William Glover who used to be Magdalene’s boyfriend Billy, Magdalene’s mother Mary, Isaiah who grew up in the religious community with Magdalene – are all complex and believable.  Some of the Americanisms (presumably added for the US market) jarred a bit in the NZ setting, but I found The three deaths of Magdalene Lynton a great murder mystery, with a flawed but noble main character that I want more of.

How a quick but catastrophic event can set lives careering off at tangents.  For Carla Reid the traumatic events that take place on her farm on the night of her wedding anniversary – when the only glitch had been her son’s announcement he didn’t want to return from the city to help on the farm and her harsh words afterwards – lead to years of suffering.  For Ben Toroa, one of the young perpetrators of the home invasion, it leads to years behind bars.  Ben’s life did not have any expectation of future comfort, except maybe earning respect from his crew, so his life didn’t veer so much off course, but he still has a journey to make, and surprisingly Carla eventually becomes part of that journey.  The last time we spoke alternates points of view, that of Carla, of Ben, of other characters who become part of the story – and most difficult for me the voice of Beyond – that world of continuity that Ben has become separated from due to urbanisation and a history of systemic racism.  Sussman’s book is one of hope and redemption – but not saccharinely so; the journey the characters make is far from easy or smooth.  If all we need is “to belong … to be loved” there is a way through.  If we have that love and belonging and it is taken away from us the way back is hard.  If we have never had it we try and create it: gangs, drugs, trying to earn respect.  If we have never had it, we suffer from the ignorance of not knowing what it even is to be loved and cared for – especially if we are also literally ignorant through lack of education to help us understand and navigate.  According to the Acknowledgements The last time we spoke took about eight years to write – nicely echoed in the text where a journalist has had Carla and Ben’s story in his mind for eight years.  So maybe another message from this moving book is the importance of patience for those in trauma; to be patient themselves and also to realise the patience of the Beyond.