GILL PARSONS introduces the remarkable process by which her childhood experience of a convalescent home has become a new drama
Japanese innovation, Costa Rican skullduggery, Glasgow Central suicide, and good deeds punished in London
I’M always reluctant to describe a crime novel as unique, because surely after all this time there’s nothing new under the genre’s sun? But I will say that I’ve never seen the plot of The Ark by Haruo Yuki (Pushkin Vertigo, £14.99) before.
The basic set-up is familiar: a group of people trapped in a claustrophobic situation start getting bumped off. But it’s the motivation — of the amateur sleuths as much as their quarry — that make this Japanese bestseller so extraordinary.
It’s a lean, fast page-turner, but I can’t say more without giving too much away. This is one of those books where it’s best not to even glance at the blurb before diving in. The clues and red herrings are very well done, and the final twist is horrible — but brilliant.
Yuki’s book starts with a reunion of old college friends, and in the world of crime fiction that is never a wise idea. A decade after leaving York University, in A Killer In Paradise by Tom Hindle (Century, £18.99), the old gang is back together — though some of them, regrettably, not for long.
Abi was the mesmerising centre of their young world, with half of them in love with her and the others very much not. Now, after 10 years of silence on her part, she’s invited them all to the launch of a luxury resort she’s opening in a Costa Rican rainforest. Why she would do so no-one can imagine. Except for the killer, of course, who can imagine all too well, in this lively whodunit/whydunit.
A Death In Glasgow by Eva Macrae (Century, £16.99) introduces response officer Sergeant May Mackay. Called to an apparent suicide at Glasgow Central Station, she’s determined to find answers for the young victim’s mother, having lost her own daughter to suicide. But there’s one detail of the case which makes May wonder if there’s more going on here than meets the eye. Connections between the dead woman’s family and local organised crime only heighten her suspicions.
May — a happily married, down-to-earth grandmother, who believes that small acts of kindness can have great effects — makes a refreshing change from the usual tortured mavericks, and I look forward to seeing more of her.
The narrator of A Neighbour’s Guide To Murder (HQ, £9.99) is considerably less reliable, which is precisely what makes Louise Candlish’s latest suspense novel such a delight.
Gwen has a flat in a highly desirable London mansion block. She’s divorced and rather wishes she was an empty-nester, but her son has been an unwelcome lodger for the last six months. More welcome is her new neighbour whose apparent vulnerability and naivety prompt Gwen to take her under her wing. But one of crime fiction’s favourite mottos is that no good deed goes unpunished, and it’s from that moment on that Gwen’s life starts tumbling into disaster.
Mischievous humour and jolting twists — it’s a winning combination.



