The Christmas Appeal by Janice Hallett (Viper, £12.99)
Bestseller Hallett’s latest novel reunites us with the Fairway Players, the beleaguered am-dram group who featured in her debut, The Appeal. As before, young lawyers Femi and Charlotte are tasked with working out whodunnit from a bunch of emails, messages and transcripts of police interviews sent to them by their now retired pupil master, Roderick Tanner KC. Here, the source of discord is the Christmas show, Jack and the Beanstalk, with infighting over casting, logistics and scenery – the giant stem, a 40-year-old panto veteran that began its life in the West End, is rumoured to contain asbestos. Unfortunately, it also contains something else, which is gruesomely revealed during the first, and only, performance … Hallett is particularly good on small-town snobberies, rivalries and social dynamics – the splendidly snippy reactions to a boastful round robin are a highlight – and while this is a considerably slighter and less complex and emotionally engaging novel than The Appeal, there is a great deal of festive fun to be had.
West Heart Kill by Dann McDorman (Raven, £16.99)
How much you enjoy West Heart Kill will largely depend on your appetite for the sort of metafiction that doesn’t so much break the fourth wall as crash through it in a bulldozer – to the extent that you, dear reader, become a character within its pages. There’s no doubt that this almost-too-clever-by-half American debut is very well executed indeed. The action begins with a metaphorical nod and wink as we accompany two men in a car to an exclusive country club, some time in the 1970s. One is private detective Adam McAnnis, who has been tasked by an unnamed client with looking for something “unusual or undesirable” among the privileged Wasp members, most of whom are sardonic, worldly types, given to cocktails and adultery. Much is made of the traditional “closed world” setting, with plenty of foreshadowing – a dog is run over, possibly on purpose, a storm and a power outage are forecast, and there are hints at past tragedies and financial troubles before the discovery of the first corpse. The author not only comments on his plot throughout, but also finds room for interesting disquisitions on the crime genre, which he clearly loves.
Mrs Sidhu’s Dead and Scone by Suk Pannu (HarperCollins, £16.99)
In contrast, this debut novel is a gentle, straightforward comedy (the eponymous heroine has already appeared on radio and TV, played by Meera Syal). When widowed caterer Mrs Sidhu – Slough’s universal “Aunty”; shrewd, indomitable and very nosy – isn’t up to her elbows in brinjal bhajis, she is busy solving crimes. A mysterious phone call from self-help guru Stephen Eardly’s exclusive Benham House Retreat, followed by the discovery of murdered therapist Wendy Calman at her thatched cottage in the picturesque nearby village, sets her on the trail of the killer, to the dismay of her old adversary DCI Burton. An Asian spin on the traditional home-counties cosy with an appealing central character and a satisfying mystery, this is perfect for fans of Richard Osman.
Kennedy 35 by Charles Cumming (HarperCollins, £18.99)
The third book in Cumming’s excellent Box 88 series is a time slip between the present and 1995, when protagonist Lachlan Kite, who was recruited at the age of 18 to the top-secret UK-US black ops spying agency, is sent to west Africa. With his then girlfriend, Martha, as cover, Kite’s brief is to help capture one of the genocidaires behind the massacre of more than half a million members of Rwanda’s minority Tutsi population. Augustin Bagaza is living at the titular address in Dakar, Senegal, apparently under French protection, and the mission to deliver him to The Hague to face justice goes badly wrong. Fast-forward almost three decades, and Kite is trying to patch things up with his estranged wife Isobel when he learns that someone is threatening to disclose incriminating details of the botched operation, putting lives, including Martha’s, at risk. A compelling exploration of the consequences of realpolitik and the intermingling of the personal with the political.
The North Light by Hideo Yokoyama, translated by Louise Heal Kawai (Riverrun, £22)
Bestselling Japanese author Yokoyama’s latest novel centres on architect Minoru Aose, whose stalled career has been saved by a commission to create a home that he would want to live in, with the result, an acknowledged masterpiece, being featured in a coffee table book entitled Top 200 Homes of the Heisei Era. His clients, the Yoshino family, appear delighted with the building, but some months later Aose discovers that it remains empty, except for a single chair. Not only did the Yoshinos never move in, they seem to have disappeared altogether. This may look like a setup for a conventional mystery, and a solution is provided, but between those two points the book becomes something very different: a multilayered, offbeat, bittersweet and utterly engrossing meditation on ambition, creativity, guilt, and workplace and family relationships.
