Philip Kerr’s Bernie Gunther series is one of my favourites. The quality of the writing alone elevates each of his books above the average crime novel. So I was interested to see that Kerr had written a standalone thriller billed as a ‘modern horror story’. Horror isn’t a genre I’m particularly fond of, although supernatural mysteries hold more appeal, so I was intrigued to see what I’d be reading, And for most of the book Prayer was a conventional, intriguing and well written thriller that opened out into something else completely.
Gil Martins is an FBI agent who investigates domestic terrorism. Despite his religious wife, he finds himself slipping away from his faith which causes a rift in his marriage. He investigates a seemingly unconnected series of deaths where people, who by everyday standards could have been considered to have benefitted society in some way, are suddenly found dead. When a woman, who is dismissed as mentally ill, states that the victims have been killed by prayer Gil is dismissive of the claims. However, as he digs deeper into the shadowy world of the large religious congregations, he discovers something that shakes his atheism to the core.
I found this book impossible to put down once I’d started it. It’s rare these days that I come across something like this but it was a genuinely compelling read. In many ways it read like a modern fable, so removed is the world that it depicted from British life. The US religious movement came across as sinister in its fervency but as the implications of what is happening becomes clear the book is about much more than the influence of large churches.
Towards the end of the book, as the narrative changed from thriller into a confrontation with the supernatural, I felt the narrative lost some of the tension as anything seemed possible. But the book was an interesting exploration of the mechanics of faith, prayer and ultimately the nature of God.
Thanks to Quercus for my review copy.
Historical crime fiction can be a problematic area for me as the quality varies widely. It’s a genre that has expanded considerably over the last decade or so but I like to pick and choose my writers based on recommendations and favourable reviews. One writer I particularly enjoy is Philip Kerr, whose books featuring the inimitable Bernie Gunther evoke the tensions and mutual suspicions endemic in Nazi Germany.
In A Trace of Smoke, Rebecca Cantrell uses a slightly earlier period of 1931 Berlin as a setting for her murder mystery featuring crime reporter Hannah Vogel. Cantrell came highly recommended by a number of bloggers including Norman at Crime Scraps and Margot at Confessions of a Mystery Novelist both of whom have a good eye for quality writing.
Hannah Vogel is a crime reporter whose articles appear in the Berliner Tageblatt newspaper under the name of Peter Weill. When looking for inspiration for crime features, she visits the Hall of the Unnamed Dead at Alexanderplatz police station to investigate recent bodies discovered on Berlin’s streets. One Monday she studies the photographs of the weekend’s corpses and discovers the image of Ernst, her homosexual brother recently pulled from the Spree river. Determined not to reveal her connection to the body, she investigates the people in her brother’s life and discovers relationships that stretch to the highest echelons of Nazi society.
Her investigations are complicated by the arrival of Anton, a five-year-old orphan on her doorstep one evening. He claims that Hannah is his mother and that her dead brother was his father. And he has a birth certificate to prove it. However it is clear that Anton’s appearance is connected to her brother’s killing and soon events collide leaving Hannah to fight for her survival.
This was a very readable book with an interesting cast of characters and a well thought out murder plot. The character of Hannah Vogel was given a believable back-story, with an abusive father, an upwardly mobile sister and a brother who had spent his formative years hiding his homosexuality. Other characters were also well written, particularly Hannah’s friends Bettina married to a police officer and Sarah who has fled to America.
The writer has lived in Germany and she has used her knowledge of the city to good effect, with wonderful descriptions, for example, of the Jewish owned Wertheim department store and the decadent El Dorado gay club. It’s a Berlin that is different to Kerr’s even through some of the settings overlap but given that A Trace of Smoke is set in the early 1930s, you can see the characteristics of early Nazism without it yet having reached its full expression.
I wasn’t too keen on the love story in the book. These parts veered slightly too much on the romantic for me but I’m sure would appeal to others. But otherwise it was a very enjoyable read with a very well thought out plot.