REVIEWING THE PERFECT CRIME

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Jane Cable reviews the latest novel by one of Frost’s four writers

As regular readers of this column will know, to my shame I don’t read many books. The problem being that when I’m in my own characters’ heads I don’t want to be in anyone else’s. And with a good book I like to totally immerse myself in the world that the author has gone to so much effort to create.

It speaks volumes for Jackie Baldwin’s Perfect Dead, set in a freezing Scottish winter, that I actually felt cold reading it during a Cornish heatwave. I saw the ice on DI Farrell’s windscreen, experienced the damp chill of the remote cottage where the murder victim, artist Monro Stevenson, is found. The setting was brought so vividly to life that I was actually walking through the streets of the little coastal village, the salt tang of the sea in my hair, and driving down twisting lanes to remote country houses.

I have to admit that crime fiction is not my usual genre these days, although I do rather love watching re-runs of Midsomer Murders (I won’t call it a guilty pleasure because I fundamentally refuse to accept that any pleasure should be guilty). Cosy crime. Count the murders, find out who did it, save the last potential victim in a dramatic crisis then all go home for a cup of cocoa. Perfect. But not Perfect Dead.

What I am never sure about is whether it’s a good or a bad thing to be able to guess the perpetrator. Writing mysteries myself, I know only too well how hard it is to seed the story with just the right number of red herrings and clues. And Baldwin has a superb red herring in Perfect Dead – one I didn’t see coming until right at the last moment and which adds an extra layer of emotion to what is already an intense and gripping story.

This is a book where the characters’ internal journeys are as much an incentive to read on as solving the crime. Not just DI Farrell, working with the pull of the Catholic church in and around him, but the issues in the lives of his various colleagues are beautifully drawn and you find yourself caring as much about how these work out as you do about having the murderer brought to justice.

Perfect Dead is the second book in the DI Frank Farrell series so the characters’ lives are bound to pan out over time. This, and the quality of Baldwin’s writing, would in itself be enough to bring readers back for book three and my one argument with the Perfect Dead is that a major strand is left hanging, and far from being intrigued it left me feeling frustrated and a little short changed.

There’s something else I’ve discovered about crime books during this process – it is almost impossible to write a review of any length without giving away spoilers. So I won’t. Read the book for yourself and find out what happens. I promise you it’s worth it.