1.5 stars
If you loved, loved the other books in this series, you'll probably at least like this one. I've read 3-4 of the Hill/Jordan books, usually sporadically and out of order, but most of them are definitely a cut above the standard crime novel. McDermid has a way of writing her killers-of-the-book and (particularly) her victims-of-the-book which makes them actual human beings. I've never felt such sorrow for a victim as I have in her second book in the series, "Wire in the Blood." I know I negatively reviewed them when I first read them, but I re-read them a few months ago and appreciated what good novels they are.
This one, however, lost its punch for me. I would never usually spend this long reading a book (save the 900-page monstrosity that is Henry Fielding's Tom Jones) but I actually quit reading it altogether. I didn't exactly plan to go back to it but I saw it on my Kindle screen and thought, damn it, I've paid for it now, I might as well finish it. Some of McDermid's usual talents have deserted her for this one. The victims are quick strong-woman sketches, and then they're brutally-murdered with conveyor-belt precision.
Confession: I have never been particularly enthralled by the relationship between Hill and Jordan. Crime novel convention dictates that the attractive cop must have a relationship with his/her companion, be it partner, murderer (in the case of Silence of the Lambs and Heartsick) or, in this case, psychologist. This book is definitely self-contained, and can be read alone, but follows on directly from the previous book in the series, The Retribution, in which disposable supporting characters were either murdered or mutilated at the hands of another savage killer of women. The blurb says that "Guilt and grief have driven a wedge between long time crime-fighting partners psychologist Tony Hill and ex-DCI Carol Jordan", and this is certainly true, but their methods of coping are so traditional and bog-standard - Tony is lonely and isolated and guilty, Carol is lonely and isolated and angry - that my eyes glazed over.
I usually like McDermid's epic take on the crime novel, where all people have a voice, but due to repetition and the general tick-box averageness of the novel, it felt padded by about 200 pages. This might have more impact to someone who really, really cares about Hill and Jordan - and I certainly like them as characters - but there was no particular originality or spark in the tale of their grieving.
Which brings me neatly to the case-of-the-book. A control-freak man is kicking women to death and gluing up their labias - a horror show which is so blatantly designed to bring Hill and Jordan back in the same room together that it left a bad taste in my mouth. The blurb also says "when the evidence begins to point in a disturbing direction, thinking the unthinkable seems the only possible answer", which seems to be total false advertising to me. At least in McDermid's first, The Mermaids Singing she delivered pretty richly on the promise that Tony would be changed forever by his run-in. As you might guess, the blurb implies that Tony comes under suspicion for the murders. This is the biggest wash ever.
Neither of the two non-Tony POVs ever doubt - Carol and Paula, Carol's once-junior, now promoted - that Tony is innocent. Nor does the reader. (I know, I know, all you Hill/Jordan fanatics are coming after me with pitchforks: "OF COURSE WE WOULDN'T THINK THAT OF TONY!!!") Even worse, though, I never doubted that Tony would get out and be exonerated, and - worse still - neither does Tony. The killer brutally murdering women who just happen to look like Carol Jordan (and, yes, it does turn out to just be a coincidence) is so blatantly a catalyst for Carol to emerge from her little isolated cottage and get back to police work that it made me roll my eyes hard. There's no dramatic tension in this particular plot contrivance at all. I almost wished that McDermid had just written on the pages concerning this, "Look, I have to bring my two lead characters back in the same room somehow."
A much-noted things in other reviews is the introduction of DCI Fielding, played by Siobhan Lahbib in "Wire in the Blood", the television series, who was Carol's replacement after Hermione Norris, who played Carol, left for pastures new. I can understand why McDermid needed to change up Fielding's character as, in the TV series, she is a little too much of a Carol-substitute, so, even though Lahbib is really good from what I remember, there's not a whole lot of distinction. Still, that is no excuse to relegate strong, interesting, maternal Alex to the supporting, non-POV role of a bureaucratic pen-pusher who could come with a sign over her head saying "CONFLICT."
We only see her through Paula's perspective and Paula constantly unfavourably compares her to wunderkind Mary-Sue Carol Jordan and accuses her of being a clueless bull in a china shop who won't listen to her own underlings, pursues innocent men and just wants to get a result (and the reader is meant to agree). Of course these police officers do exist, but I'd prefer for Alex to have her own POV so she could be her own character, rather than a mindless antagonist and Carol foil (by being everything Carol's not - by which I mean a mindless, idiotic dictator who rules over her team with an iron fist). This is irritating and unforgivable and made attractive, strong, sympathetic, intelligent, always-right Carol even more of a Mary-Sue. Paula is almost as bad - the only interesting thing about her is that she's a lesbian and she takes in the son of a murder victim (and it was nice to see Dr. Blessing again). Nevertheless, this plot thread comes to nothing - like almost all of them in C&B - and Paula's voice and outlook is nearly indistinguishable from Carol's.
In summary:
As a character study of survivor's guilt and recovery, it's a limp part-failure. If you are really invested in the characters of Hill and Jordan, their endless trudge to be back together - in however small a capacity - might seem thrilling. For me, it just felt like every other depiction of guilt I've ever seen in a crime show (Carol thinks she should have died instead! Carol blames for Tony for not being psychic! Tony blames himself! Tony stares lovingly at Carol! Carol is having none of it!) with absolutely no variation.
In another review, I saw a Hill/Jordan fan agonising over a quote from one of McDermid's interviews, saying that she could never conceive Hill and Jordan in a normal relationship. Well, it's starting to show. Having smoothed out most of the uglier aspects of their characters (Tony's impotence gets not even one mention, which wasn't surprising, as McDermid admitted to regretting this choice. Yes, it's dark, but it's one of the few distinguishing strokes in the Hill/Jordan novels), we're left with a "will-they-won't-they" which is stuck in total stalemate, and so lacks any punch or verve. Although C&B closes out on a note of mild hope for Hill/Jordan shippers, it confirmed for me what McDermid's novels' central relationship have become by book eight: one baby step forwards, one massive shove backwards. This is wearing for me. Another tune, please.
As a detective novel, the police work is even worse. It's non-existent. Everything we need to know about the killer (and I mean everything - motives, means, opportunity, even job type and how he knows the victims) is revealed in his POV. Interesting components of his back-story, like his stepmother and father, are never seen. Instead we're left with a misogynist killing women and revealing all his vital information in the chapter before the team are supposed to know it, which makes the tiny segments of "police work" feel like trudging through endless wheel-spinning pages to play catch-up. As a result, Tony's supposed genius and Carol's return to work seem psychic, convenient and dry. Tony is the only other suspect and it comes to one of the least exciting conclusions I've ever read.
Fingers crossed for a return to form in book #9.