In the mid-1980s Murray Whelan is working as the electoral officer in the office of Victorian State MP Charlene Wills, who is also the state’s Minister for Industry. His job is to look after Wills’s electoral constituents, those “ordinary voters desperately seeking redress from bureaucratic inanity or government indifference.” In the meantime he and his wife were over in “everything but name”, as she works as an independent contractor in Canberra advising in the Federal Government’s Office of the Status of Women. Their young son Redmond is still in the family home but Whelan thinks that may only be the case for the short-term future.
On the political front there are rumours that a local councillor, with affiliations with the Meat Packers Union, is looking to challenge Wills for her seat in Parliament. When the body of Ekrem Bayraktar is found in a freezer at Pacific Pastoral meat packing works at Coolaroo in Melbourne’s outer north, Will’s ministerial advisor, Angelo Agnelli, sees a possible problem arising for Wills and orders Whelan to go out and investigate. The police have already deemed it a death by misadventure – he appears to have had a heart attack and then froze solid among the meat stacks – but Agnelli is worried about appearances more than the truth. Whelan knows next to nothing about investigating situations of this sort and just attempts to muddle through by checking the personnel records and working arrangements of the union members. It all seems in order until he asks a Turkish friend about some of the names on his list, most of which appear to be fictitious or the Turkish equivalent of Mickey Mouse or Frank Sinatra. And then things start to unravel as it becomes clear that someone is running a small but lucrative fiddle of the employment records at the packing plant.
As Whelan starts to dig a bit deeper, egged on by Agnelli, he starts to realise he is being followed by an aqua-coloured Falcon which, late one night, runs him off the road into a flooded river. As well as the continuing mysteries around the death of Bayraktar, and his possible membership of a Turkish para-military group, Whelan’s life is slowly spiralling out of control. The roof on his house is in serious disrepair and needs extensive work, especially the hole he punched through it one evening attempting some home maintenance; his love-life is a mess; and there are now rumours of an early state election in the air.
Maloney’s Murray Whelan is a one of Australian literature’s great comic characters. Laconic, love-lorn, under-appreciated, and forever scrambling to stay in control of the situations around him. And it’s obvious that Shane Maloney brings a long association with the corridors of political power, as well as the internal machinations of the Victorian Branch of the Australian Labor party, to the writing of this novel. Whelan acts as his mouthpiece as he makes cutting remarks about multiculturalism, Melbourne weather, unions, Melbourne traffic, politicians, and Melbourne newspapers. It’s all very funny but at heart this is a crime novel and the central mystery keeps driving the narrative forward. The fact that Maloney has been able to seamlessly integrate the social and political commentary is a very definite bonus for the reader.
This was Maloney’s debut novel and Whelan was later to appear in another five instalments. The first two of these were adapted for television in 2004 by the late John Clarke, with David Wenham in the lead role and a supporting cast that included Sam Neill and Mick Molloy. It’s a pity that the productions didn’t continue. The combination of Clarke and Maloney, Wenham and Molloy just seemed too good to pass up. At least we have these excellent novels to remind us of what might have been.
R: 4.0/5.0