The Shadows in the Street is the fifth book in Susan Hill's detective series of books featuring Simon Serrailler. However this series deviates from the convention, where a named detective, plus possibly their sidekick, use their consummate skill and experience to solve devious crimes. Simon Serrailler does not feature much in the novels at all, frequently entering very late in the story, and sometimes being only on the periphery of the action.
This novel follows several murders of prostitutes in Simon Serrailler's home town, the fictitious English cathedral town of Lafferton. At the start we are introduced to the main character Abi, following her miserable and pitiful existence as a prostitute, from which she hopes to escape, and which the author describes with great insight and compassion. From Abi's point of view, we see the typical life of a young prostitute, penniless, subject to violent boyfriends, drug addiction and dependent on other prostitutes for random and chaotic childcare. We see the trap from which she feels she cannot escape, and we see her care and love for her children.
Susan Hill's style is direct and simple; plain and down-to-earth - in fact typical of Yorkshire folk - she originally came from Scarborough. "Yorkshire is so much part of me," she has said, explaining that her spare uncluttered prose is quite deliberate, "The moment anyone starts thinking 'I'm going to be a stylist' they're finished." In the same interview, she said of the Simon Serrailler series that it was "my contemporary fiction, where I look at the world as it is". She describes both the potential victims, and also the middle-class residents of Lafferton, whose attitudes to the prostitutes are sympathetic and judgemental by turn. The author is careful to present a full and unbiased picture, giving each individual to whom she turns her analytical eye, due care and attention.
The novels are heavily character-oriented, which is perhaps not surprising given that Susan Hill was a well-established novelist before ever venturing into crime novel territory. Each one in the series has an element of mystery, and each is a page-turner, but the reader becomes much more involved than usual with the lives of the individuals the author has created. This is nicely balanced between the characters specifically drawn for the current novel, and the running story, which is based on Simon Serrailler's personal and family life.
An intellectual aesthete, rather in the mould of P.D. James's poet-detective Commander Adam Dalgleish, Simon Serrailler is also a rather introverted artist - this time of the visual variety. We therefore come away from the book with a solid understanding of the main characters, an involvement in the eventful lives of Simon Serrailler's twin sister Cat, who is grieving heavily in this novel, his nephew and niece, his stepmother Judith and his curmudgeonly father. We even explore the personalities and lives of his work colleagues, including Detective Sergeant Vanek, to whom Simon Serrailler is a hero who can do no wrong. Yet Simon Serrailler's character is more shadowy and far less clearly delineated.
In the main Susan Hill uses the viewpoint character of Cat to reveal the author's compassion for her characters,
"She looked at the girls again as they stood by a street lamp lighting cigarettes. They were probably no more than twenty, thin, hollow-eyed, their legs without tights under the short strips of skirt. Sexual disease. Drug-related illnesses. Every sort of violence. Even just exposure to the cold. Those were only a few of the risks they ran every night….The street lighting threw hard shadows, but when they turned their faces to it, they were the faces of children."
Simon Serrailler is introduced to the story as having recently completed an exhausting investigation, for SIFT (The Special Incident Flying Taskforce) which necessitated him taking leave afterwards. When the news breaks of a 17-year-old girl, strangled and thrown into the river in Lafferton, he is holidaying on Taransay, a remote Scottish island. He is toying yet again with the idea of painting watercolours for a living, and has formed a relationship with one of the island's residents. It is strictly a holiday romance, with no strings attached, although some humour is injected into the narrative when her burly intended husband takes a rather dim view of this.
However there is little humour in this novel, its focus clearly being on the social issues. Simon Serrailler is rapidly brought back to Lafferton to investigate the case. Since another prostitute is missing, the police are keen to establish whether that case too will prove to be one of murder.
The mystery to be solved in this novel almost seems to be a way of exploring the characters and psyches of those involved. There is a new Anglican Dean of the Cathedral, who is causing ructions amongst his parishoners by instigating changes too quickly, sweeping away many of the treasured traditions. Or is it his wife who is largely responsible for this? Commonly referred to as "Mrs Proudie" by members of the congregation - a nice light-hearted touch - the reader understands that this situation is a mirror-image of that in Anthony Trollope's "Barchester Towers". The Dean's assistant, Miles Hurley, seems to be a calming and restraining hand. A young Baptist minister, Darren, also runs an Outreach programme, visiting the prostitutes' locations weekly with his van, doling out tea, sandwiches, a cheery smile ... and a religious pamphlet. We watch the discussion between the "Magdalen" committee set up to help the young prostitutes, and the various ways in which events are mismanaged as the various factions of do-gooders - whether doctors, clerics, or neither - cannot see eye to eye.
We also follow Leslie, a lonely librarian who watches the prostitutes and is well known to them. Just as they seem to be his only friends, he is their knight in shining armour, taking them sandwiches and flasks of coffee to keep out the cold, without any apparent underlying motives. But he harbours violent thoughts about his co-workers, and although he lives with his mother he keeps his night-time activities secret from her. The police are naturally very suspicious of his behaviour.
Another major character is a violent drug-pusher and addict, Jonty Lewis, who has a history of violence towards prostitutes. Then there is the shadowy "beanie man", an unknown quantity referred to this way jokily by the prostitutes because of his headgear, and as a way of defusing the threat they feel from him. And there is one character who has bipolar disease, and again, this informs her whole life. As soon as she starts to feel stable, in common with many bipolar patients, she stops taking her medicine. This has dramatic consequences for the story. And not everyone who is strangled or disappears is a prostitute, which puts the entire police investigation, which is now focussed on a specific serial killer profile, back several paces.
Cat, Simon Serrailler's sister, is a GP, and hence privy to many of the problems explored in this book - drug dependence, depression, guilt and other aspects of mental health - plus the emotional issues of grief she herself feels. Viewing the events through her eyes enables the reader to look a little deeper than the linking mysteries of the book, and into social and psychological issues. Susan Hill portrays the emotional inner turbulence of her characters, such as the difficulties of someone who is trying to care for someone with bipolar disorder, with great perception and insight. Her literary novels have dealt in the past with the psychology of grief, and the difficulties of serious psychological disturbance. It makes for very interesting crime fiction to have an author of such literary merit incorporate these features within the frame of a detective novel. The ending to the mystery is satisfying.
For detective fiction aficionados, it is possible to guess the perpetrator towards the end, not by sifting though complicated clues, but more by the way the book is written. And this is an author who can write,
"Missing Chris, feeling totally bereft of him, wanting him back, sinking to the depths every time she remembered that he would never come back, longing for him so that she felt ill and incapable of functioning as a human being – all of it needed no prompting, like some memories that were touched by a piece of music, or a chance remark, or going into a particular building. All of it was now part of her, wrapped around her like a second skin.
Bereavement, she had discovered, was about many things, but one of those, and the one which few people seemed to know or warn about, was a long-lasting, overwhelming physical and mental tiredness. Even now, a year after Chris’s death, she felt exhausted for much of the time, with an exhaustion that seemed to be beyond deep and to bear no relation to whatever else she might have been doing or even to how much sleep she got."