海角大神

Silent Voices

Ann Cleeves unleashes a 'large and shambolic' female detective 鈥� a refreshing break from current mystery trends.

The fictional female detective has altered greatly since the heyday of the genteel village lady who stumbles upon murder. And the dull, small world she inhabited, masterfully evoked by writers such as Patricia Wentworth and Sheila Radley (a personal favorite), lies buried under a gooey avalanche of theme mysteries (cookies, cats, crafts 鈥� take your pick). But just when it seemed that any sleuthing heroine must be either a perky quilter or a tattooed avenger, along comes Detective Inspector Vera Stanhope. 聽

Hardly genteel, Vera is nonetheless a reassuring sight to readers of Ann Cleeves鈥檚 Silent Voices, if not to those under the DI鈥檚 scrutiny. 鈥淲hen he saw her approaching, she noticed the surprise and disappointment on his face. Perhaps he鈥檇 been hoping for Helen Mirren,鈥� Vera observes of one encounter. An earlier interview begins the same way. 鈥淪he was confused, Vera could tell,鈥� we read of snooty Mrs. Eliot, 鈥淭he car Vera was driving was large, new, and rather expensive. One of the perks of her rank. Mrs. Eliot would consider it the sort of car to be driven by a successful man. Yet Vera was large and shambolic, with bare legs and blotchy skin.... Vera looked poor.鈥� 聽

Like Reginald Hill鈥檚 beloved protagonist Andy Dalziel, Vera is cunning and irreverent. 鈥淕od,鈥� she thinks, listening to the outpourings of one witness, 鈥渨hat self-indulgent drivel.聽 I鈥檇 rather spend time with an honest criminal any day than with this introspective woman.鈥� Her manner with interviewees can be indelicate. 鈥淒on鈥檛 piss me about,鈥� she wearily advises a recalcitrant householder. 鈥淚鈥檓 not in the mood 鈥� let me in so that I can take the weight off my legs.鈥澛�

Vera would not be caught dead in a gym, but that is where we meet her in "Silent Voices" and where she discovers the first murder victim. (Cleeves enjoys these little ironies). Jenny Lister, a social worker, has been strangled, and at first no explanation can be found in Lister鈥檚 supremely organized life. There are, however, some odd coincidences. An ex-subordinate of Lister鈥檚, Connie Masters, who was at the center of a child drowning case, recently moved, unwittingly, to Lister鈥檚 Northumberland village. Masters鈥檚 neighbor, Mrs. Eliot, lost a child to drowning decades earlier. And Lister鈥檚 daughter is engaged to Eliot鈥檚 remaining son.聽

The murder investigation uncovers further human connections that, in Cleeves鈥檚 hands, seem natural rather than far-fetched; Northumberland is, she reminds us, England鈥檚 least populated county. Plain descriptions vividly evoke the modest region and its inhabitants, and Cleeves鈥檚 economical style freshens even well-worn scenes such as police briefings and interrogations. Plot twists are few and satisfying.

When a second murder, for example, suggests that the past may not hold the key to Lister鈥檚 death, Vera begins to detect a new shape forming. 鈥淟ying in the bed she鈥檇 slept in as a child,鈥� Cleeves writes of the single woman in her dead father鈥檚 farmhouse, 鈥溾��images and ideas floated into her head and then fluttered away from her, like the charred tatters of paper blowing from a bonfire.鈥�

Those tatters, of course, hold the answer and Cleeves pieces them neatly together. Vera, by contrast, remains gloriously unresolved in Cleeves鈥檚 subtle portrait. 鈥淭hey sat on the two low chairs, their feet to the fire,鈥� she writes of the DI and Joe Ashworth, her young sergeant. 鈥淰era thought this was as happy as she would ever get.鈥� There is no need to say more.

Anna Mundow, a longtime contributor to The Irish Times and The Boston Globe, has written for The Guardian, The Washington Post, and The New York Times, among other publications.