A riveting procedural with detectives who are as curious as the suspects they’re investigating.



Police investigate a London university where the faculty includes someone who may resort to murder to keep a secret in this crime-thriller debut.

DI Colin McDermott’s latest case is a woman’s death by London Transport bus. It could have been an accident or suicide, but it’s definitely suspicious. There was no ID near the body, for one, and Metropolitan Police learn she had two names: her real one and what she’d used at St. Gregory’s College. Since she died near the college and during the lunch break, McDermott, DS George Ridley, and DC Wilhemina Quinn question St. Gregory’s faculty. Turns out a few of the suspiciously unhelpful professors have applied for the soon-to-be vacated principalship; detectives surmise the victim, a first-year student, in some way posed a threat to an applicant. One of the faculty members later turns up dead in a probable suicide, but McDermott treats it as a second murder, likely at the hands of a single killer. Shady histories among the teaching staff slowly come to light, from blackmail to spousal abuse. McDermott searches for a link between the two victims and determines who at St. Gregory’s has something to hide—something worth killing for. Napier layers his story with subplots, motives, and suspects, with the narrative examining characters just like the detectives do. Pinpointing the culprit is far from easy, and suspense is aptly retained until the tale’s nearly over. Still, the author manages nuance: the DI remains understandably affected by his wife’s terrorist-bombing death a decade earlier and steps in to help his daughter Megan’s friend Pam, whose parents are apparently ashamed of her lesbianism. The dialogue consists primarily of trading information or speculations, befitting the whodunit format. McDermott, however, is not without sardonic wit, calling an especially shifty individual a “veritable paragon of virtue.” Readers unfamiliar with British slang will find plenty of narrative context (for example, an “argy-bargy” is clearly an argument).

A riveting procedural with detectives who are as curious as the suspects they’re investigating.

Pub Date: May 2, 2017


Page Count: 276

Publisher: FriesenPress

Review Posted Online: June 9, 2017

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Forget about solving all these crimes; the signal triumph here is (spoiler) the heroine’s survival.


Another sweltering month in Charlotte, another boatload of mysteries past and present for overworked, overstressed forensic anthropologist Temperance Brennan.

A week after the night she chases but fails to catch a mysterious trespasser outside her town house, some unknown party texts Tempe four images of a corpse that looks as if it’s been chewed by wild hogs, because it has been. Showboat Medical Examiner Margot Heavner makes it clear that, breaking with her department’s earlier practice (The Bone Collection, 2016, etc.), she has no intention of calling in Tempe as a consultant and promptly identifies the faceless body herself as that of a young Asian man. Nettled by several errors in Heavner’s analysis, and even more by her willingness to share the gory details at a press conference, Tempe launches her own investigation, which is not so much off the books as against the books. Heavner isn’t exactly mollified when Tempe, aided by retired police detective Skinny Slidell and a host of experts, puts a name to the dead man. But the hints of other crimes Tempe’s identification uncovers, particularly crimes against children, spur her on to redouble her efforts despite the new M.E.’s splenetic outbursts. Before he died, it seems, Felix Vodyanov was linked to a passenger ferry that sank in 1994, an even earlier U.S. government project to research biological agents that could control human behavior, the hinky spiritual retreat Sparkling Waters, the dark web site DeepUnder, and the disappearances of at least four schoolchildren, two of whom have also turned up dead. And why on earth was Vodyanov carrying Tempe’s own contact information? The mounting evidence of ever more and ever worse skulduggery will pull Tempe deeper and deeper down what even she sees as a rabbit hole before she confronts a ringleader implicated in “Drugs. Fraud. Breaking and entering. Arson. Kidnapping. How does attempted murder sound?”

Forget about solving all these crimes; the signal triumph here is (spoiler) the heroine’s survival.

Pub Date: March 17, 2020

ISBN: 978-1-9821-3888-2

Page Count: 352

Publisher: Scribner

Review Posted Online: Dec. 23, 2019

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Jan. 15, 2020

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Miller makes Homer pertinent to women facing 21st-century monsters.

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A retelling of ancient Greek lore gives exhilarating voice to a witch.

“Monsters are a boon for gods. Imagine all the prayers.” So says Circe, a sly, petulant, and finally commanding voice that narrates the entirety of Miller’s dazzling second novel. The writer returns to Homer, the wellspring that led her to an Orange Prize for The Song of Achilles (2012). This time, she dips into The Odyssey for the legend of Circe, a nymph who turns Odysseus’ crew of men into pigs. The novel, with its distinctive feminist tang, starts with the sentence: “When I was born, the name for what I was did not exist.” Readers will relish following the puzzle of this unpromising daughter of the sun god Helios and his wife, Perse, who had negligible use for their child. It takes banishment to the island Aeaea for Circe to sense her calling as a sorceress: “I will not be like a bird bred in a cage, I thought, too dull to fly even when the door stands open. I stepped into those woods and my life began.” This lonely, scorned figure learns herbs and potions, surrounds herself with lions, and, in a heart-stopping chapter, outwits the monster Scylla to propel Daedalus and his boat to safety. She makes lovers of Hermes and then two mortal men. She midwifes the birth of the Minotaur on Crete and performs her own C-section. And as she grows in power, she muses that “not even Odysseus could talk his way past [her] witchcraft. He had talked his way past the witch instead.” Circe’s fascination with mortals becomes the book’s marrow and delivers its thrilling ending. All the while, the supernatural sits intriguingly alongside “the tonic of ordinary things.” A few passages coil toward melodrama, and one inelegant line after a rape seems jarringly modern, but the spell holds fast. Expect Miller’s readership to mushroom like one of Circe’s spells.

Miller makes Homer pertinent to women facing 21st-century monsters.

Pub Date: April 10, 2018

ISBN: 978-0-316-55634-7

Page Count: 400

Publisher: Little, Brown

Review Posted Online: Jan. 23, 2018

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Feb. 1, 2018

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