Too many Joe Faraday novels are never nearly enough. Graham Hurley is the doyen of police-procedure thriller writers, and his One Under is a classic of the genre that he now dominates.
As with all his Faraday books this is a crime novel for grown-ups. There are no cross-city car chases here; no melodramatic dénouement wherein the hero single-handedly beats the black-hearted villain into submission; and, indeed, there is no brilliant individual sleuth who defies all odds and with razor-sharpness uncovers clues that are unfathomable to everyone else.
Instead, the intelligent, unassuming and, to many of his colleagues at least, the slightly aloof Faraday is the leader of a team that does the painstaking work of cleaning up crimes committed in the unglamorous but compelling city of Portsmouth in England. This is a tale of teamwork, not Dirty Harrys. Among the disparate group of detectives and straight-out Bobbies-on-the beat is Paul Winter, a flawed and superficially unattractive detective on both the professional and personal level.
Hurley has created flesh and blood with Joe Faraday and his subordinate, Winter. The inveterate bird-watcher, Faraday has his own crosses to bear – he is a widower with a young adult deaf-mute son. Like most others, he seeks companionship but remains outwardly calm and philosophical when, as again, with pretty well all of the rest of us, life takes frequent unforseen and unfortunate twists. Winter, also a widower, is by his own description, a FOB – a Fat, Old Bastard. He paints an unattractive picture as he often drinks copiously and sloppily and may, on occasion, be seen to scratch at a pub floor in search of a dropped peanut. He’ll ram anything into his mouth to appease that massive belly of his. But he is a good and committed detective even if he is no team player in a team game.
The opening of One Under is a gripping lead to, ostensibly, a shocking crime even by the standards of Pompey’s (Portsmouth’s) low life. It results in Faraday and his extensive squad being assigned to the case to try to fathom what actually has happened and to pin it on those responsible. Enquiries result in the strong suspicion of a quite separate serious crime and we follow the course of the investigations into both.
As these dual investigations unfold, Hurley puts us smack-bang right into Serious Crime Room briefings, informal bar chats, into the squad cars that take us through the warrens of the city’s unsavoury suburbs of the underclass, and we become close witnesses to the scribbles in police notebooks as they interview many and varied ‘persons of interest’. Along the way, we are introduced to memorable characters such as the menacing but cunning “Bazza’ McKenzie, who police well know to be the drug king of Portsmouth, but have been unable to produce the evidence to lock him up.
Slowly, ever so slowly, diligence and technology, and a little bit of luck, begin to shed some light on the investigations. The net closes…… somewhat. But, just as the vast majority of us are well aware, life doesn’t tie up every loose end. The Pompey police end up with acceptable results in one of the cases but the other has inconvenient threads left dangling; so much so that it is quietly tossed into the No-Further-Action basket’: nothing to see here. Meanwhile, the intimidating “Bazza” McKenzie continues to dominate the City’s underworld untroubled by the snooping of the “Old Bill”………… For now.
Take a bow, Graham Hurley. This is one of his many great books.