The Crime Warp

   Standing In Another Man’s Grave by Ian Rankin             In Rankin’s latest Rebus book he manages to combine a fast moving storyline with a powerful sense of Scotland, involving Northern scenery, tourist attraction and even some Scottish Fables. Rebus, currently working as a civilian on Cold Cases, is considering reapplying to the force.   The only problem is, does the force need his type of investigative skills and would he even pass the medical.   Rebus is being investigated by internal affairs when he discovers a possible link between a current disappearance and the cold cases he is working on.   This brings him to work with his old pal Siobhan Clark, now a DS and to all intents and purposes his boss during the investigation.   Rebus soon becomes aware of the technological developments that have occurred in his absence and as Siobhan puts it; ‘ You're more vinyl, we’re more digital.’   I beg to differ.   John Rebus is not any run of the mill old vinyl:   Uh, uh

He knows when she’s washed her hair. It curls differently, tighter, doesn’t reach as far down her back. He prefers it when she hasn’t washed it. If she turns her head he can sometimes catch the scent of her. Musky. Bed hair. Dirty girl hair. She gets on his bus every day at the station. She’s a student. History. He’s seen the books she reads. He hangs back until she boards and then he follows and settles as near as he can. She gets off near the woods by the park. He followed one day. He knows where she lives.                 Most days, he gets the seat directly behind so that he can watch that teasing hair as it tumbles past her shoulders. If he leans forward, pretends he’s dozing, he can get right up to it, stroke it.                 It was a while before he dared to use the scissors. He’d put them in his lunch bag along with some of the little plastic sample packets from his laboratory. Then, one day, he’d done his fake sleep act again and brought the scissors up, snip, just

Finally we had a lead.   The girl was being held in an abandoned warehouse off Denison Street. “Leave your gun,” advised my DI, “I don’t want you provoking the Kidnappers.” I laid my berretta on the desk. The street lights flickered as I turned into the desolate street.   Spotting the warehouse, I parked my car out of sight round the corner. The building was in darkness.   Not knowing what I was up against, I knew I should wait for backup but I had no choice; a girl was in danger, I wasn’t going to waste time.   I had to go in! My hand brushed the empty holster, a fatal mistake, perhaps.   I would find out soon enough. Cautiously, I pushed the door open; aware that even the slightest sound would be heard in the menacing silence, surprise was the only weapon I had against the kidnappers. Carefully I made my way through the building, my eyes quickly adjusting to the gloom.   I heard muffled noises, and, as I moved towards the sound I glimpsed the outline of a fem

I first met Zoë Sharp when I took part in her one day creative writing workshop, ‘A man comes into a room with a gun...’ (If you get the chance, I fully recommend it!)  I soon came to realise what an inspirational and humorous person she is.  When I asked her about the interview she agreed straight away.   Thank you Zoë A little bit of background; Zoë was just fifteen when she wrote her first novel.  She created her no-nonsense bodyguard heroine, Charlie Fox , after receiving death-threat letters while working as a photojournalist.   She has published ten novels and her work has been optioned for TV. Questions on Zoë Q1.          Who is Zoë?   A1.          Good question. Some days I’m not entirely sure! I was born in Nottinghamshire, but brought up largely living aboard a catamaran on the northwest coast of England. I opted out of mainstream education at the age of twelve, and wrote my first novel when I was fifteen.

This is the first book for years that I’ve been strongly drawn to by the cover.  I think it’s the author that described it as “cosy noir”- it’s a pretty good description, although I’d say there’s more noir than cosy. Brighton Belle’s central character is Mirabelle Bevan, living in Brighton in 1951.  Bevan administers the McGuigan & McGuigan debt collection agency but has no real life of her own – it’s as if she’s numbed herself, trying to escape from her past as a wartime secret service agent and the memory of her married but dead lover. The mystery starts with the search for a pregnant Hungarian refugee and soon expands into a trail that includes war criminals, a dodgy doctor and stolen Nazi gold.  Mirabelle is aided by Vesta Churchill, who is quickly drawn into shared danger as they both follow a trail which runs across the whole spectrum of Brighton life from the plush opulence of the Grand Hotel to the seediness of the racetrack.  There are plenty of dead bodies as well as s