Tho' I'd not enjoyed Duplicity as much as the previous three of Sibel Hodge's books I've read, I think readers will enjoy it for a clever and well worked out plot and a lot of suspense.
Apparently there is a course in interviewing @ the police college that teaches how to bully innocent suspects into confessing by disguising abusive accusations as questions. In Duplicity the oafish Acting Detective Inspector Richard Wilmott obviously mastered that module: he specialises in transformational grammar. 'You wanted to get rid of Max, didn't you? . . . You watched from the house in the woods, didn't you? . . . You stabbed Max. . . . Before he knew what hit him. Didn't you?" Of course the right way to deal with such boors is simply to keep repeating "No comment . . . And no comment . . . And no comment"(I loved the part in Jane Casey's The Burning where the villain did just that). I still don't understand that phrase in the police caution where they tell the suspect that if you don't answer "it may harm your defence'. Suppose I was addressing the House of Lords @ the time of the crime. Would I be found guilty because I failed to reveal that alibi to Acting Detective Inspector Plod? How long does English law require a suspect to permit a boor to rant @ one, esp. when there’s not evidence you’ve committed an actual crime?
Happily for the reader, Wilmott is not the principal detective in Duplicity. That is DS Warren Carter who is supposed to be the good & competent cop in this duo. He also supplies half the narration. The other narrator is simply designated "The Other One" & she is far & away the most interesting & for me likeable character in the book, having endured a horribly abusive childhood.
As a reader of crime fiction for the emotions & the relationships & the spiritual values, I had high hopes for this book. Sibel Hodge's previous three books I read dealt with spousal abuse, dementia & terrible child abuse, so my empathic early warning system was set @ high alert status. With respect to plot, I was delighted to discover that the title, Duplicity, was being employed apo koinon: in both senses of the word, deception & doubleness. I love how in a story like Tana French's The Likeness that allows effects that are otherwise possible only in the genre of fantasy. Unfortunately, whilst emotion & relationships play a role in DS Carter's life, they are totally irrelevant to the story. He's our typical unappreciated male senior police officer aggrieved @ his superiors' failure to promote him to level he deserves, as a result of political pressure & social snobbery. (His brilliant solution to the disappearance of 16 classic motor cars that belonged to a member of the House of Lords struck me as most unlikely, BTW. Tho' I can imagine possessing a piece of hot art that only I & my close friends enjoy – there is no pleasure in having a classic Ferrari or Aston Martin if you can't dress up in 1950s clothes & show it off @ Goodwood.) Carter also spends a lot of the reader's time bemoaning his bereaved state because his wife died of cancer, something that plays no role in the plot whatever. (I think Carter belongs to the school of theology that holds that God invented cancer to prove to atheists that He doesn't exist. Carter should read The Fault in Our Stars.) But my emphatic sensibilities were disappointed even worse because the principal victim definitely deserved killing, which made me even more sympathetic to the villain. (The audible narrator's pronunciation of 'asbestos' with a secondary stress on the third syllable was lovely tho' Carter also featured that ugly Estuary vocalisation of post-vocalic T.) By the second half of the book we're apparently supposed to forget that we're solving a crime that many of us would regard as a public service by Eliminating a polluting slimeball from the planet.
You will also expect a twist, even I did with my minimal solving skills but I'd not felt to blame for not sussing it because there were no clues or foreshadowing to give me a hint of the motive. As for the clues Carter spots - they were on the level of early Sherlock Holmes tho' Carter dances round the field giving high-fives @ his brilliance in spotting them & gloats as he springs them on the villain.
I am truly sorry to be so snarfy in my lack of enthusiasm, but I fear that I found the detective insufferable & the author's coarsening of my favourite character manipulative & I dislike being jerked around. But to show no hard feelings, I am currently listening to another of Sibel Hodge's novels in a quite different genre.