Thrillers

Readers will wish that this standalone were the first in a series (though Toyne has written series that readers can fall back on, such as the Sanctus Trilogy). The book starts with a single killing, a seeming locked-room affair, as a woman is discovered murdered in her fortress-like London home that requires fingerprint and facial-recognition access. Her husband is nowhere to be found and is the obvious suspect, but adding perhaps a red herring, perhaps a path to follow, several objects are placed around the body. One of them is a forensic-science manual, How to Process a Murder, which is by the police chief’s estranged daughter, Laughton Rees. Following the grisly opening, the tale continues with chapters presenting perspectives from Laughton, who as a child survived an attack by a serial killer and has never been the same; nervous, kind-hearted Pakistani-Irish cop Tannehill Khan, who soon finds that the crime stats he dreaded presenting to the press are the least of his problems; and a sleazy tabloid journalist who revels in the three Ms: murder, mystery, and money. The wish for a series mainly comes from observing the Tannehill and Laughton characters, who are both burdened with far too much and believe in themselves far too little. The taut and terrifying ending doesn’t hurt either.

A richly layered novel—part mystery, part suspense—but completely satisfying. Saffron and her boyfriend are renovating their dreamy Cotswold cottage to make room for a baby, as Saffy is pregnant. Her grandmother, Rose, once lived here, although no one in the family even knew of the cottage’s existence until a few years back. But when the contractors tear up the back garden to expand the kitchen, they discover not one but two corpses. Questions lead back to Rose, now in a nursing home with dementia, and soon enough Lorna, Saffy’s delightful mom, flies in from the south of Spain—tan, oversized earrings, skinny jeans, Spanish boy-toy—to help sort out what has blown up into a murder inquiry. This novel is overflowing with narrators and stories—we have documents from the past, Lorna’s memories, Rose’s memories, another storyline from a different family—and that’s just the start. But Douglas manages to keep all the balls in the air, the pace brisk, and the ending a total head-spinner. A classic slow burn, this novel will appeal to fans of Catherine Steadman and Lucy Foley.

A quirky, droll, and completely captivating novel about Linda, whose sad-sack suburban life slowly falls apart, only to reveal something far better. Linda’s passions are few, namely housecleaning—she’s a bit obsessive compulsive—and her part-time job in a thrift shop. Her contacts are equally meager, mainly her mother, who’s skilled in finding new and creative ways to put down her daughter, and husband Terry, best ignored, which Linda does. When she and Terry move into a new home in their housing estate, Linda becomes fascinated with the advertising catalogs—think West Elm—that are still being delivered to the previous occupant, Rebecca. Linda decides the best way to achieve this lifestyle is by tracking down Rebecca and ingratiating herself, and in some of the funniest yet most cringe-worthy scenes in the book, she succeeds in doing just that. Meanwhile, a serial killer is loose in the estate while Terry’s work hours suddenly become extremely erratic. Cause for concern? Not for Linda, who’s more taken in by BFF Rebecca than anything nefarious that Terry might be up to. A wonderful novel that reminds us that life is rarely what it seems, and outcomes can seldom be predicted.

From Émile Zola’s Pot-Bouille to George Perec’s Life: a User’s Manual and from Muriel Barbery’s The Elegance of the Hedgehog to many more than I can list here, novels set in ancient, cavernous Parisian apartment buildings comprise their own sub-sub-genre, one that Foley’s latest novel can join with head held high. Jess needs to get out of England—her job as a bartender has grown pretty sour, she can barely make enough money to survive—so she informs Ben, her half-brother, that she’s coming to crash with him in Paris for a bit. Except when she arrives, Ben has disappeared, his super-luxe apartment is way beyond what journalist Ben can afford, and one detail after another points to the fact that whatever happened to Ben, it isn’t good. As the hours, then days, go by with no sign of her brother, Jess starts her own investigation, centered on the odd residents of the apartment building, all of whom behave incredibly suspiciously. Eventually, Jess comes to realize that it’s not just Ben she has to save. She has to save herself as well. Claustrophobic, and creepy as hell, this thriller is sure to please Foley’s many fans.