In Birth Marks, private investigator Hannah Wolfe gets a case worthy of the great detective novels she so admires. At first glance, this one doesn't fit the she's asked to find a missing ballet dancer, Carolyn Hamilton. When Carolyn's body is fished out of the Thames, stones in her pockets and an eight-month-old fetus in her belly, the police think it's a Single pregnant woman can't face her impending responsibilities, takes a leap off a bridge. But Hannah can't shake the suspicion that something else is going on. Hannah's investigation takes her from the London dance world to the upper echelons of Parisian society in search of the unborn child's father. But his explanation only raises more questions, and for Hannah the case grows more treacherous, fueling her own ambivalent feelings about relationships and motherhood.
Sarah Dunant is a cultural commentator, award-winning thriller writer and author of five novels set in Renaissance Italy exploring women’s lives through art, sex and religion. She has two daughters, and lives in London and Florence.
Sarah’s monthly history program and podcast on history can be found via the BBC website.
Hannah Wolfe PI is hired by Miss Patrick on a missing person case. Carolyn Hamilton is the missing ballerina. Carolyn's body is discovered in the River Thames and she was heavily pregnant. The police assume that Carolyn was unable to face single parent motherhood and took the decision to commit suicide. Hannah, however, is not so convinced that this is the case. The investigation takes her to Paris in search of the father of the baby. She is able to finally wrap up what turns out to be a complex case. Hannah is an awkward personality, She finds herself returning to talk things over with her mentor and former policeman, Frank Comfort. There is a lot of focus on babies and what it takes to be a mother. I did like Hannah's opinionated sister, Kate. This was an absorbing and engaging read. Thanks to Open Road Integrated Media for an ARC.
This book introduces the reader to Private Investigator, Hannah Wolfe. She gets a call from the man who taught her the ropes. A young woman is missing and her guardian wants someone to find out what has happened to the ballet dancer.
Carolyn Hamilton hasn’t been seen or heard from in many months. Hannah starts at the beginning, where she was last seen .. at a ballet company. But no one seems to be willing to talk about her.
Days later, Carolyn’s body is found in a river and it’s obvious she was really, really pregnant. The police think it’s a suicide. After all, it’s a single pregnant woman, and chances are she got dumped by the baby’s father, if she even knew who the father was.
Hannah isn’t willing to accept that. Her investigation takes her from London to Paris, to dealing with poor ballet dancers to the rich upper crust. The more she looks, the more questions she has and Hannah starts to think she’s in danger herself.
The book is well written, in that it is full of twists and turns and misdirection. The characters are finely drawn. I liked how the author made Hannah’s family and family issues a big part of the story. She becomes a real entity and an interesting one, at that.
This is the first of a series, so the next one in line should be quite entertaining.
Many thanks to the author / Open Road Integrated Media / NetGalley who provided a digital copy in exchange for an honest, unbiased review.
Although Sarah Dunant is far better known for her historical fiction she is also the creator of a tough as nails and acerbically funny London based private investigator by the name of Hannah Wolfe. On the wrong side of thirty and stony broke, Hannah is a hardened cynic but underneath her tough demeanour and self-deprecating humour there is a soft centre making for a thoughtful investigator with an impressive moral compunction. This tightly plotted first effort (originally published in 1991) sees Hannah channel-hopping and and in serious danger after being hired to locate a ballet dancer who has gone missing from her London lodgings. Despite its cultural references making apparent its obviously dated setting (EEC, Jiminy Cricket and a lack of mobile phones for starters), Hannah’s internal monologue of barbed observations on life and men still feels just as relevant twenty years later and injects a vibrancy into a gritty case that sees self-effacing Hannah give some serious reflection to her own feelings on motherhood.
Having returned to London after a stint of overseas security work a hard up Hannah taps up her old boss, Frank Comfort (“Comfort by name, Frank by nature”), an ex-CID copper who now runs his own security business. As the man who taught her the job, Frank throws her a bone with a request from Miss Augusta Patrick, an elderly lady who requires assistance in locating her young protégée, twenty-three-year-old Carolyn Hamilton whose gift for dancing has taken her to London. After month of frequent and consistently vacuous postcards (“an anodyne diet of weather and ballet repertoire”), Miss Patrick has heard nothing of her surrogate-daughter figure for the last seven weeks. Returning to London, Hannah finds that Carolyn has been missing for a lot longer than seven weeks and left her last position at an insalubrious second-rate dance company on the Walworth Road six-months previously and been a fleeting figure at her Kilburn flat. As a bleaker picture of debts, drugs and a failed career starts to emerge, Carolyn’s body washes up in the Thames complete with a eight-month-old foetus in her womb, painting a sorry picture of a young woman burdened by expectations and responsibilities. As the police rule Carolyn’s death a suicide for Hannah, the answers seem fudged to fit a convenient picture.
In a case which raises many more questions and some unsatisfactory answers, Hannah keeps digging and soon finds herself on the trail on a lucrative and rather mysterious personal assistant job working at a remote chateau in France for a reclusive Belmont Aviation magnate, Jules Belmont. Unwilling to be fobbed off with shrugs, shakes of the head and Carolyn’s supposed very recent departure from their employment, a determined Hannah keeps digging. But just who is the father of Carolyn’s baby and paying the rent of her flat and given her sojourn in France, just whom has been posting her correspondence to Miss Patrick from London? As Hannah’s quest for the truth takes her into a medical specifics of pregnancy, Sarah Dunant conveys a sense of the true burden that Carolyn would have faced with her obvious confusion as a young woman out of her depth and with nowhere to turn.
Whilst ex boss Frank laments that Hannah is “too political for this business” and jokes about hiring the only Marxist in the security business the mutual affection between the pair is evident in their obvious rapport. Having fallen into the security game after giving up a career in the civil service two-years down the line Hannah is still calling Frank for advice and to test the water of her theories, returning to his mantra of ‘if the answers don’t fit then you’re not asking the right questions’, when she hits a brick wall. Hannah’s eighteen-month older sister and mother of two, Kate, acts as a sounding board for the more emotive side of the investigation with Hannah frequently decamping to Kate’s Islington home for some insight on motherhood and all things maternal. Kate’s insistence that an eight-month pregnant woman would have struggled to commit suicide with a wriggling tot in her belly trumpeting its impending arrival adds weight to Hannah’s concerns.
There are obvious references to the great gumshoe detectives in the world of crime fiction and in a first-person narrative which at times feels like like an intimate audience with Hannah the lyrical prose flows delightfully in a pacy and engaging novel with a more poignant and reflective resolution than usual PI fare. Readers will, however, need to keep their wits about them as some of the finer details of the medical revelations are fleshed out into the closing one hundred pages. The dated references and distinctive London setting make for a highly recommended read full of old-fashioned English charm.
Birth Marks was shortlisted for the 1991 Gold Dagger Award and the second in the Hannah Wolfe trilogy, Fatlands, won the 1993 Silver Dagger Award presented by the CWA.
Despite the fact that the book is a little dated--printed in 1992 before cell phones and Internet, I enjoyed this mystery. I've read and liked several of Sarah Dunant's historical novels; so thought I'd try her writing in a different genre. If I had paid much attention to the reviews, I wouldn't have bothered. But I think Dunant writes an intriguing mystery that had me guessing. I like her protagonist, Hannah Wolfe, and the little quirky remarks she makes as the plot progressed. I'll read another of this series if I can find the next book. I wish Dunant would write more in the mystery/crime genre.
It started out really well, subtle and smart puns interwoven with the narrative to tell more about the heroine and comment on the world. For the main part of the book it then reminded me of Val McDermid's novels, perhaps less emotionally engaging (no laughs or worries). The fly in the ointment was the slightly offensive assurance that all women had to think about babies, which got worse towards the end when her brother in law's opinion of Hannah being afraid of men and pining after an ex-boyfriend are out of the blue considered true and a tiny moment in a bar said to be the melting of her ice-berg-y self. On the story side, the facts were so obvious that Hannah appeared stupid for never seeing them. While the steps she took were solid, this frustrating lack of intelligence culminated in an "artistically" dubious ending - with the plot so obvious, to have scrimped there, to have bailed out on the only thing the author could actually have told us was really annoying. Dunant didn't show enough about the people involved in the crime to make them come alive; one can't care about any affection or betrayal Hannah feels if she never actually has much of a connection, nor any serious problems. It's surprising to me how bland the secondary characters are, and I had to strain to see this was supposed to be a story about mothers. Dunant also writes the worst bodice ripper cliches to indicate a small sexual attraction that she couldn't show. I still remember the pleasant beginning, making me appreciate British Ladies of Crime all over again, but if this hormonol patronising gets worse, I'm not sure if I want to read her other two novels - I ordered the one that isn't about "plucking out ones hair = pampering oneself" - and moved on to Val McDermid for good.
Hannah Wolfe (“a lonely, broke, female private eye on the wrong side of thirty”) is hired to find a missing person, a young ballet dancer called Carolyn Hamilton. She’s hired by Carolyn’s benefactor and stand-in mother, Miss Patrick, her own mother not interested in her dancing ambitions and that sets up one of the key themes for the book. When Carolyn’s pregnant body is found, a suicide victim, Hannah’s detecting leads her from seedy dance clubs to France and the powerful boss of an aviation company. This is a dark book, taking the well-used private eye tropes and utilising the female character well - childbirth and motherhood feature prominently, with Hannah’s sister Kate providing some much needed opinion at times - and is all the better for it. The plot gets a little convoluted once you realise what’s happening and the last couple of chapters have a sense of tying everything up quickly, but it’s a cracking book, it moves quickly and is beautifully written. Shame Sarah Dunant only wrote three Wolfe books. Very highly recommended.
Birth Marks is 30 years old, set in that last moment before PIs used the internet, when we all had landlines with either answer machines or services, when traveling to France meant getting ripped off on exchange rates as we transferred money into francs. In fact, this setting (1990) has as much in common with 30 years before as it does with 30 years after. For that matter, so does the story-telling: wise-cracking, gumshoe riffling people's drawers to track a missing person.
And Dunant knows this is an old tale, tips her cap to Christie and Chandler and name checks The Big Sleep. So what is fresh enough about this solid if formulaic mystery to get me to round up from 3.5 stars. The narrator's voice is probably most important, self-deprecating and knowledgeable without being world-weary. Also, I like some of the author's choices about scale - in the end a small story affects a few people in 3 separate towns. Somethings are neatly tied up and others are not, which suits me as I don't mind a bit of ambiguity.
Voilà few years before Janet Evanovich started writing the Stephanie Plum books, and much in that mold. An old fashioned mystery with a plucky, slightly more modern hero digging into dirt on both sides of the Channel. Three and a half stars
A new series for me with detective Hannah Wolfe, smart, insightful and determined. Hannah is one of those brilliant people who can’t seem to pull an adult life together. She kind of fell into detective work as she also does pick up work to make ends meet. Hannah is a misfit like so many detective and her personal life is a disaster. This seems to be a requirement for good detectives.
This is an enjoyable series with smart writing, good pace and plotting. An added bonus of this book is it takes us into the closed, intensely competitive world of professional ballet. I always enjoy learning something new while following the clues. Hannah is hired to find a young ballerina who has disappeared from London. There are few clues and the more Hannah digs she finds that there has been no sign of Carolyn for six or seven months. Her surrogate Mother, who hired Hannah, has been receiving postcards that stopped one month ago. With a cold trail and few people who knew anything about Carolyn’s London life, Hannah is challenged.
The search for Carolyn keeps the reader guessing and the reason for Carolyn’s disappearance is quite a twist. A fun read and new series to read.
I have managed to read the Hannah Wolfe series I'm reverse order over several decades. I borrowed Under the Skin from the library in the early 00s, enjoyed it and then promptly forgot the author and spent many years trying to remember. Eventually remembered and finally read Fatlands in 2017 due to it being on KU.
This is clearly the weakest of the trilogy and a bit of a trudge through murky events. The PI boom of the 90s which birthed this book wasn't known for it's detailed characters, but even by the standards of the genre, Hannah Wolfe is a bit thin. Committment issues, obviously clever but jagged job path, sensible sister with 2.4 children. None of that would matter if the plot sparked the interest, but there's barely any heat here, which isn't helped but the relentlessly downbeat turn of events.
However, reading about pre-internet era detective work from the perspective of 2025 was rather interesting. Otherwise, one to miss.
Birth Marks was the first in a set of three featuring London PI Hannah Wolfe. Hannah sees herself as a Philip Marlowe kind of character; a hardboiled, wise-cracking PI that eventually solves the case. In reality she’s a little more frail, not so smart, and reliant on others, though she’s persistent and resilient. Her task is to find a missing ballet dancer who then turns up dead. She uncovers clues by means fair and foul and makes faltering headway in a case the police have ruled suicide. The plot is fairly linear and despite a bit of a twist towards the end it’s pretty predictable; there is really only one suspect once they’ve come into view. A quite pedestrian but enjoyable enough PI tale.
This was fun. Miss Patrick employs private investigator Hannah is employed to trace her protegee/adopted daughter Carolyn who has gone missing. Once Hannah begins to look into things it becomes clear that Carolyn has been missing for longer than Miss Patrick realizes. And then Carolyn's body turns up and Hannah is employed to find out where Carolyn has been all this time.
I enjoyed Hannah's sardonic humour and her relationship with her sister Kate and, although I anticipated some of them, there were plenty of twists and turns as the plot unfolded. I am going to read the others in this series now.
This book was a real page turner for me. I thought all along that I knew what happened, and then I was surprised by new developments. The character of Hannah Wolfe is well created without being boring or instructive. I am giving it only 4 stars because I personally ewas disappointed with the ending - not to say it was a bad ending, or make sense for the story - just that I didn't like it. I finished it in two days.
Genre fiction risks feeling similar and derivative even each example takes its own route getting there. Hannah Wolfe is likeable, if a bit too arch Chandleresque pastiche, and the plot mechanics workable (would the antagonists really have done what they did in the position they found themselves? - possibly). A workmanlike example that ticks off its genre requirements even if it does little out of the ordinary.
Some interesting twists. Hannah is slow on the uptake though. She says she's thinking of something else and not listening. Grow up. Hope she's smarter in next book. Wasn't impressed with her self-righteous attitude about being too good to accept more money than just a flat fee. Take the money or not, but don't break your arm patting yourself on the back.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
i LOVED this book. the main character was a wonderfully clever smart aleck who reminded me of some of the best film noir detectives. great story & page-turner that culminated in an ending i wasn't really expecting. wished the book were much longer & was disappointed it had to end. REALLY looking forward to reading more mysteries with this character.
Hannah Wolfe is an enjoyable protagonist as far as fictional PIs go and this was a great romp through London and Paris to find out not just whodunit but why. A light and likeable read.
This had a very slow start to it. It read like pulp fiction with a ton of cliches. Once you got into the meat of the mystery I could not put it down but it took a bit to get there.