The Drowned

Spotting a sleek Mercedes SL sports car parked in a sloping field below a house, its engine still running and the driver’s door left open, Denton Wymes, on his way home from fishing, pauses to investigate. It’s a moment that the isolated loner will soon regret as he becomes caught up in a missing-person case that will turn his life upside down. Before Wymes can retreat, a man named Armitage approaches, claiming his wife has thrown herself into the sea. Together they walk up to the house to telephone for help. Armitage’s behavior is odd (“he seemed more excited than distressed’) and Wymes senses that the tenant answering the door, Charles Rudduck, recognizes Armitage. Called in from Dublin to investigate is Detective Inspector St. John (pronounced “Sinjun”) Strafford, who is also juggling a complicated personal life (an estranged wife and a lover who is the daughter of his colleague, state pathologist Quirke). In late 1950s Ireland, divorce is illegal, and Anglo-Irish social tensions remain strong. Banville deftly captures the prejudices and suspicions between the groups. “You’re not a Paddy, then” says Armitage to Wymes, who stiffly corrects him that he is Irish, but not “bog Irish.” In a mostly Catholic police force, Strafford stands out as the rare Protestant. His investigation gradually uncovers secrets that go back years and into previous series installments, but enough back information easily guides new readers through the complex plot. Banville ends his fourth Strafford/Quirke crime novel (after The Lock-Up) on a haunting, ambiguous note. With its complicated, not always likable protagonists, this beautifully written book will appeal to fans of literary mysteries in the vein of Kate Atkinson’s and Tana French’s works.