I know Terry Deary made his name with his Horrible Histories series but I must confess I haven’t read any of them. However, his murder mysteries for adults demonstrate that he is a first-class writer. Actually, I'm a Corpse is the second, following on from Actually, I'm a Murderer, with the same three main characters reprising their roles: Tony Davies (second-rate actor with an unfortunate knack of being associated with murder victims); John Brown (assassin); and Aline James (police officer).
I was so sad when I finished Actually, I'm a Murderer because I thought there was no chance of a sequel. When I saw Actually, I'm a Corpse, I confess to squealing with delight – and I wasn’t disappointed. This book is so good in so many ways: the characters are highly believable, with John Brown touchingly showing a very human aspect. Tony is his usual clumsy self; and Aline is driven by her sense of justice. Deary is like one of those skilled people who set several plates spinning; keep them spinning for a while; then swiftly grab them, one after the other. He is a master at retaining our interest in all the plot strands: Tony’s new acting company; Aline’s new role as a sergeant; John’s mother fading in a care home; a body on a train; a bomb killing three people. Then, quickly, all the strands are brought together and it’s over, leaving the audience impressed and applauding.
The dialogue is crisp and tight, without a single wasted word; and so perfectly 1970s, with the casual but endemic sexism in the police force. The plot moves forward at a cracking pace. There is humour, with one nod to the Horrible Histories series. The book was one long orgy of delight for me – I do hope there will be another book in the series.
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