CLASSIC CRIME
BARRY TURNER
THE MAN THAT GOT AWAY
by Lynne Truss (Raven Books. £12.99 304 pp) GrAhAM Greene set the tone for post-war Brighton as the heartland of crime and corruption but now Lynne Truss performs a reverse roll to give us a knockabout farce of mayhem and murder centred on the town’s constabulary.
As the brightest of the force, novice Constable Twitten is painfully aware that the mastermind of all that is crooked in Brighton is right there in police hQ.
But who else would believe that the motherly charlady, dispensing tea and buns, has a dishonest thought in her head? Certainly not Inspector Stein who will go to any lengths to persuade himself that a heinous crime is no more than a delusion.
The plot takes in a confidence racket, a beachside murder and an undercover operation that goes spectacularly wrong. As with all good farce, the speed of action deceives the senses. But no matter. Sit back, relax and enjoy a feast of black humour.
INDIAN SUMMER
by Sara Sheridan (Constable £8.99, 352 pp) We Are still in 1950s Brighton but this time the mood is much darker. heading a debt-collecting agency, Mirabelle Bevan has a social conscience that leads to trouble with the criminal fraternity and police. her curiosity is aroused by the secrecy surrounding a children’s sanatorium where there’s more on offer than home comforts and fresh air.
When a local priest, a frequent visitor to the sanatorium, is found dead, Mirabelle is up against a conspiracy of silence that takes in police corruption. Meanwhile, she has to sort out her troubled love life and drink problem.
Sarah Sheridan has few rivals in racking up tension but her distinctive skill is in exposing the myth of 1950s Britain as a haven of stability where everyone knew their place and the police were wonderful. As Sheridan shows all too vividly, it was anything but.
DEAD OPPOSITE THE CHURCH
by Francis Vivian (Dean Street Press £9.99, 168 pp) The title itself is a bit of a puzzle, suggesting a story about a homicidal vicar. Instead, the plot centres on a provincial newspaper where the loathing of an aggressive editor leads to his early demise, stabbed to death, we are led to assume, by one of his disaffected reporters.
With his eye for sharp dialogue, Francis Vivian leads us on a rollercoaster chase with the chief reporter, a prime suspect, matching wits with a good cop/bad cop partnership intent on giving the newsroom a hard time. A suspicion of there being more to the killing than professional angst is confirmed by a dispute over the ownership of the paper, a highly profitable enterprise.
If this sounds unlikely in the social media age, keep in mind that this was over half a century ago. Those were the days.