Inferno, by Dan Brown [audiobook]. Read by Paul Michael. Rearsby, Leics: Clipper, 2013.
This is, of course, dreadful tosh. But a good shout at the CD player over New Year was welcome, and although it was initially a disappointment that Jeff Harding wasn't reading this one as well, the reader was excellent, particularly in the area of Italian pronunciation. There was so much wrong with the Dante part of this that I won't even start; and the setup so that Robert Langdon could mansplain his way round another landscape was as clunky as ever. But there were some pleasing plot twists, and a lot of knitting, tidying up and reading was done while listening to this.
The cold cold ground, by Adrian McKinty. London: Serpent's Tail, 2012.
I heard about this author via @TriciaindaHouse on Twitter - an excellent source for book recommendations if you like the sort of thing I review here. This is a brilliant book, and happily it's the first in an ongoing series. Sean Duffy is a rare bird, a Catholic sergeant in the RUC in the spring of 1981. Most of his work is in attempting to contain sectarian violence, but then he comes across a very odd case - two killings of gay men within a matter of hours. Is this the work of a serial killer, or something different? There are some great "period details" here - high-security visits of Margaret Thatcher, the IRA hunger strikers, the backdrop of the Royal Wedding - and also some shocking reminders of how totally abnormal life in the North was at the time. Highly recommended. I've already got the second one on reserve.
Saturday requiem, by Nicci French [audiobook]. Read by Beth Chalmers. Rearsby, Leics.: Clipper, 2016.
It was a completely open and shut case when 18-year-old Hannah Docherty was arrested for the murder of her mother, father and brother, and she's been incarcerated in a secure hospital ever since. When Frieda Klein, a psychotherapist, is asked by the police to assess Hannah, she is horrified and haunted by the girl's condition, and begins to investigate the circumstances of the murders. What she finds makes her doubt both her own sanity, and Hannah's guilt. This is tightly plotted and fascinating.
Paper towns, by John Green. London: Bloomsbury, 2010.
Margo Roth Spiegelman is Quentin Jacobsen's next door neighbour, and an awesome rebel. Q has been in love with her forever, and is amazed when she commandeers him to go on a riotous, night-long revenge prank. And then Margo disappears. The phenomenon of paper towns was unfamiliar to me until I read this book... The setup, and to an extent the main character, who is not the narrator, is familiar from Green's Looking for Alaska, but this is an altogether different thing, and makes you laugh and cry, and believe, as I did as a teenager, that dysfunctional teens are probably the best.
The strange case of the composer and his judge, by Patricia Duncker [audiobook]. Read by Maggie Mash. Rearsby, Leics.: Clipper, 2010.
Hunters in the Jura come across a strange sight: a semi-circle of dead bodies, staring upwards into the sky. Dominique Carpentier, a judge with more than a passing interest in cults, is called up by a policeman who is also her old lover; the pair start to investigate, and realise that there is a connection between the dead and a composer and conductor, Friedrich Grosz. This is a strange sort of book - half police procedural, half a search into a mystical realm, and I'm not entirely sure it's successful; but it's a good listen, with an excellent reader.
