Intimate Watching

THE FEMALE DETECTIVE by Andrew Forrester

Women, it seems, were not strangers to reasoning and dispassionate inquiry in Victorian England. Meet Miss Gladden, the first pro­fessional female detective in the English-speaking crime fiction world in Andrew Forrester’s The Female Detective (Hachette Yellowback; 264 pages; `399) first published in 1864. (Hachette India has re-published this and about 150 crime fiction bestsell­ing titles from the mid-late 19th century in yellowbacks or yellowjackets.) Her friends think she is a dressmaker, and her enemies are convinced she has a questionable profession. Here is Miss Gladden introducing herself in her own words. “Who am I? It can matter little who I am…It may be that I am a widow working for my children—or I may be an unmarried woman, whose only care is herself. But whether I work willingly or unwillingly….whether I am married or single, old or young, I would have my readers at once accept my declaration that …in me that profession [as a detective] has not led me toward hardheartedness.” She points out that a female detective has far greater opportunities than men of “inti­mate watching” and of ferreting out the intimate secrets. There are seven short stories in the book. In ‘Tenant for Life’, Miss Gladden hears a story told by her friend’s cabman hus­band about how he bought a new-born baby from a frantic young mother, only to sell it almost immediately for thirty pounds to a lady who stopped him not too far from where he’d made the bargain. Our Lady Detective’s curiosity is piqued and she sets about finding the baby and the reason for such a large sum exchanging hands. It is the way she investigates—using reason and logic to ferret out the clues, like boot marks—that sets her apart. The baby must be desperately needed and there­fore it must have something to do with an inheritance, she deduces. In carrying out the investigation, she has no ulterior motive—she refuses to take money from the nobleman in­volved in the case. Her dogged work—for which she disguises herself as a maid — is dictated by her overwhelming need to see justice done even if she doesn’t care much for the victim. Her determination, her ability to reason, to coax information from the housekeeper and the others in the household, her bravery in confronting men in powerful positions — are all exemplary characteristics that present-day authors still use especially in police procedurals. As the jacket cover blurb puts it — her application of science and search for clues anticipated Sherlock Holmes by about 20 years.

The narration of the stories is matter of fact and has some incisive observations about human nature. “Every man who has lived with his eyes open has come across human beings who concentrate within themselves the most wonderful contradictions,” Miss Gladden remarks in ‘The Unknown Weapon’. That’s a case of a young heir murdered with a strange weapon. Miss Gladden is unstoppable in her quest for the wrongdoer but interestingly, often the culprit is not brought to justice. Though by modern standards, the pace is creaky and the dialogue is full of colloquialisms, this is worth a read for crime fiction aficionados and the feminists among us. It gives us a refreshing glimpse into Victorian England where a woman detective could run rings around her male counterparts in her ability to track down the how of the case, which in turn leads her to the whodunnit.

ZERO DAYS by Ruth Ware

Fugitive meets Mr and Mrs Smith — that’s the logline of the pacey chase-mystery from Ruth Ware. Jack (Jacinda) is part of a Mr and Mrs Smith style set-up. She and her husband (Gabe) test the security of companies and report back on the bugs; she is the feet on the ground who breaks into buildings and he is the man on the computer hacking into the systems. After an opera­tion, Jack returns home to find Gabe murdered with his throat cut. She calls the police and while being questioned, she realises she is the main suspect. It doesn’t help that a million-pound life insurance kicks in with Gabe’s death and she is the beneficiary. The rest of Zero Days (Gallery/Scout Press; 368 pages; `2,251) is her trying to figure out who initiated the insurance, who is trying to frame her and why Gabe had to die. The action is sharp and pacey, aided by the countdown to zero day. Ware’s previous books were in the realm of psychological thrillers. In Zero Days, she retains that breathless and panicked interiority of the main character and melds it with an adventure story. Jack scarpers to lonely shacks on beaches and highway overpasses with the police on her heels, a nasty ex-boyfriend policeman, and has to rely on her family, Gabe’s close friend and the kindness of strangers to unravel the whodunnit, which frankly didn’t come as a surprise. I would’ve mentioned a third movie here but that would give the game away. Having read this after Forrester’s book, it struck me as ironic that the 21st-century Jack behaves like an emotional and frazzled woman on the run, while the 19th century Miss Gladden of The Female Detective displays a cool and rational mind. Most of the telling in the book is firmly in the psychological suspense mode where we are privy to long stretches of Jack’s high anxiety and panicked thoughts. Fans of Ruth Ware will like this one.

ALL THE SINNERS BLEED by SA Cosby

All the Sinners Bleed (Flatiron Books; 352 pages; `2,290) is a sear­ing look at the sinners of the American South. It begins with a quote from Joseph Conrad, “The belief in a supernatural source of evil is not necessary; men alone are capable of every wicked­ness.” What evil is Cosby talking about in Charon County — a land “founded in bloodshed and darkness”? It is the evil of old hatreds, old hierarchies, old attitudes— of racism at its worst “waiting for you in the dark”.

Titus Crown, born and raised in Charon County, Virginia, re­turns home after a stint at the FBI to care for his aging father. He is elected as the first Black Sheriff, defeating a powerful, corrupt and racist predecessor who’d allowed racism and drugs to thrive. On the first anniversary of his election, Titus is summoned to the local school. Someone has shot dead a white teacher, Stead­man, beloved to many students including Titus. The shooter, Titus’s best friend’s teenage son, comes out with a wolf mask in one hand and a gun in the other. The boy looks at Titus and says: “Check his phone,” and then charges toward them. Titus’s two white deputies shoot him dead. Videos and photos in the phone reveal that Steadman and the teenager along with a third masked man were involved in horrific mutilations and killings of children of colour. Their bodies, Titus discovers, are buried in a field; religious markings and words are carved into their skins. As more deaths mount up, the clues point to the serial killer’s connection with the local church. Titus, who is determined to bring justice to the victims, has to brave the wrath of his com­munity and the church’s flock led by a char­ismatic preacher out for his blood. While in his personal life, he has to deal with an estranged brother and a new girlfriend; it doesn’t help that Titus’s ex-girlfriend is in town to do a podcast on the crimes.

Cosby doesn’t shy away from the visceral nature of these tensions. Though emancipation of Blacks and desegregation occurred in the 1960s, Charon County, like much of the American South, is still stuck mentally in the racist era. Through the characters and the trail of the clues, Cosby picks away at the festering sore that is the struggle between Blacks and whites—equality versus old ways of a racist domination— and also holds up a mirror to present-day religious zealotry against homosexuality and the liberal agenda.

All the Sinners Bleed is a splendid addition to a crime fiction that shows us a reality at its most dangerous—and ferocious. It lives on in your head, making you reflect on the difficulty of shaking off prejudices, and the toll it takes on the human soul.

Andrew ForresterbookscrimefictionRuth WareSA Cosbywomen detectives