Another outsider is attempting to muscle in on the drug market controlled by Mansel Shale and Ralph Ember. Shale comes home from a golf game to his ex-rectory and finds his collection of Pre-Raphaelite paintings (quite a few of which are authentic) gone, and a body in an expensive suit, with its throat cut, on the landing. He calls the latest interloper, Hilaire Wilfrid Chandor, to inform him, rather cryptically that this is unacceptable, the several items must be returned and the other item disposed of with resulting stains cleaned up.
ACC Iles (described by Harpur's 15 year old daughter as a "feral loon") has been running an illegal tap on Shales's phone and hears the call, breaks into Shales house to see what happened. The dead body's girl friend arrives from London to look for her missing lover, enlisting the help of Harpur's daughters and a local reporter. Shale's wife, who has left him and the children to go off to Wales with another man (a greengrocer or psychiatrist or some such) decides to return and is suspicious of the redecorating.
From Detectives Beyond Borders
What makes the series great? Its delicious looks at the upward aspirations of its gangsters. Its funny, touching takes on family life. Its teaming of the vain, violent, ungovernable Iles and his partner, Harpur, who sometimes deflects and sometimes slyly returns Iles' insults, yet who is capable of betrayals of his own. Its "brilliant combination of almost Jacobean savagery and sexual betrayal with a tart comedy of contemporary manners," according to John Harvey, who ought to know a thing or two about crime fiction. And the beauty of the writing:
The series ...becomes a kind of grand and cracked portrait of Britain's shifting urban and social landscape at the end of the twentieth century, of the murky boundaries between police and criminals, of suburban social climbers who happen to be killers and drug dealers, of the strange ways people build families in changing times. The books are violent, dark, and often very funny. And their author just happens to be the best prose stylist who has ever written crime fiction in English.
© Peter Rozovsky 2008