Bruno, Chief of Police
‘Hugely enjoyable and absolutely gripping. Martin Walker has got off to a flying start in what promises to be a great series. Bruno will be the Maigret of the Dordogne.’
Antony Beevor
‘It’s beguiling, evocative and utterly wonderful. It also made me very hungry; ideally one should read the book at the kitchen table while sipping a vin de noix and eating truffle pate. [He is] the Alexander McCall Smith of La France Profonde. No one should be allowed to go on holiday to France this summer without a copy.’
Francis Wheen
‘But the selling point of this delightful book is its setting in the legendary France profonde, where market stalls offer goat’s cheese and foie gras, home-made jam and oils flavoured with walnuts and truffles, where steaks are timed to perfection by singing the Marseillaise, and menus composed as skilfully as Martin Walker’s prose. Walker brings to life both a complete community and the chief of police who is its protector, teacher and friend. This book’s ingredients are combined as carefully as Bruno’s good meals. Second helpings, please!’
Jessica Mann, Literary Review
Denis MacShane, Tribune
Reginald Maudling, a Tory Chancellor who would not have survived five minutes as one of today’s über-regulated MPs, once wrote that his idea of a good summer’s holiday was a poolside sun lounger in Majorca, a bottle of Scotch and a pile of Agatha Christies.
Half a century later, it is still not a bad choice, minus the racist Ms Christie. Instead we have some top quality political thriller writers.
Alan Furst and Philip Kerr take us back to mid-century MittelEuropa, with narratives of deceit, the Spanish civil war, and Goebbels’ lust for luscious actresses. A strong dose of truth lards their classic crime-spy-Nazi thrillers, with noble anti-Nazi resistance and a decent amount of sex.
Furst is American but an honorary Frenchman and no one captures the Europe of the 1930s as well as he does. His hero is a Spanish lawyer in Paris working for a Manhattan law firm who helps the Spanish Republicans as they become discarded puppets in Stalin’s manipulations. This is a novel to remind us what nationalist, divided Europe was like.
Kerr’s hero is Bernie Gunther, a street-smart anti-Nazi Berlin cop who survives because he unravels problems for his Nazi bosses. It’s part set in Switzerland and captures the duplicity of the Swiss as they made money from Nazi Germany while staying neutral.
Adam Lebor is based in Budapest. His Washington Strategem takes us into the dishonesty and double standards of the United Nations and the lobby groups that use it to make money. Fantasy? Well, Kurt Waldheimm, the Austrian SS officer makes a brief appearance in Kerr’s Lady from Zagreb. Waldheim later became UN Secretary General because the big powers wanted someone they had a hold over.
Lebor is a stellar foreign correspondent and Martin Walker was the best foreign correspondent of his generation at The Guardian, covering the end of communism in Moscow, Clinton Washington and then the unhappy EU story in Brussels. Now he is a narrator of Dordogne life told through his creation, Bruno, a police chief in a small town called St Denis.
Walker has sold two million Bruno books, with huge sales in German-speaking Europe, and has even published a Bruno cookbook with all the recipes the police chief uses to find thinking time with his English on-off lover, Pamela, as he deals with and solves sordid often political crimes.
All four writers are at the top of their form and there is no better holiday reading on offer.
Reginald Maudling, a Tory Chancellor who would not have survived five minutes as one of today’s über-regulated MPs, once wrote that his idea of a good summer’s holiday was a poolside sun lounger in Majorca, a bottle of Scotch and a pile of Agatha Christies.
Half a century later, it is still not a bad choice, minus the racist Ms Christie. Instead we have some top quality political thriller writers.
Alan Furst and Philip Kerr take us back to mid-century MittelEuropa, with narratives of deceit, the Spanish civil war, and Goebbels’ lust for luscious actresses. A strong dose of truth lards their classic crime-spy-Nazi thrillers, with noble anti-Nazi resistance and a decent amount of sex.
Furst is American but an honorary Frenchman and no one captures the Europe of the 1930s as well as he does. His hero is a Spanish lawyer in Paris working for a Manhattan law firm who helps the Spanish Republicans as they become discarded puppets in Stalin’s manipulations. This is a novel to remind us what nationalist, divided Europe was like.
Kerr’s hero is Bernie Gunther, a street-smart anti-Nazi Berlin cop who survives because he unravels problems for his Nazi bosses. It’s part set in Switzerland and captures the duplicity of the Swiss as they made money from Nazi Germany while staying neutral.
Adam Lebor is based in Budapest. His Washington Strategem takes us into the dishonesty and double standards of the United Nations and the lobby groups that use it to make money. Fantasy? Well, Kurt Waldheimm, the Austrian SS officer makes a brief appearance in Kerr’s Lady from Zagreb. Waldheim later became UN Secretary General because the big powers wanted someone they had a hold over.
Lebor is a stellar foreign correspondent and Martin Walker was the best foreign correspondent of his generation at The Guardian, covering the end of communism in Moscow, Clinton Washington and then the unhappy EU story in Brussels. Now he is a narrator of Dordogne life told through his creation, Bruno, a police chief in a small town called St Denis.
Walker has sold two million Bruno books, with huge sales in German-speaking Europe, and has even published a Bruno cookbook with all the recipes the police chief uses to find thinking time with his English on-off lover, Pamela, as he deals with and solves sordid often political crimes.
All four writers are at the top of their form and there is no better holiday reading on offer.
It is written with a deep love of rural France, for the countryside, the people, the way of life and the cuisine. All this is charming and many pages of the book will have readers purring with delight … so enjoyable … so pervasive and agreeable is the charm of this novel that it might even allow you to pass the time pleasantly as you wait in an airport departure lounge for your long-delayed holiday flight to France.’
Allan Massie, The Scotsman
Ruth Morse, Times Literary Supplement
‘Bruno Courrèges – Saint-Denis’s local (indeed, only) policeman, all-round sports coach, and the town’s most eligible bachelor – is called to the scene of a murder. An elderly, solitary ex-soldier whose children live in the village, has been found bound and eviscerated; a swastika has been carved into his chest. There are no clues; the victim is an Algerian immigrant who won the Croix de Guerre, and what is evidently a hate crime means that reinforcements from the two competing national forces are summoned. They attempt to shut the local man out of the investigation.
‘But, in addition to local knowledge, Bruno has connections of his own, as well as the support of an unusually savvy and powerful mayor, so by dint of goodwill, perseverance and luck, as well as the knowledge and help of a series of local inhabitants and incomers, more than one crime is solved. Along the way, Martin Walker explains and illuminates geography, sociology, politics, and the history of three wars with their resulting tensions and revenges.
‘A small town in the Dordogne, complete with the stereotypes one might expect from any celebration of an Englishman’s experience of rural France, may seem a risky setting for a crime novel. Walker, who is better known as a political journalist and commentator, has certain advantages which outweigh his cheery, deliberately charming, style of evoking la France profonde. He knows the Périgord, its food and its history; he has a good grasp of how corruption and insider trading by the elite of French regional and local government can sometimes function to check legal regulation and balance it with a semblance of humane justice. In addition, he understands how to use the conventions of light crime fiction to tell a story with unresolvable moral complexities. If he has a rose-tinted view of an essentially feudal regime, he uses his spectacles in a good cause.
‘Crime fiction is recognized as a place where, in the interests of realistic depiction, political correctness has no hold; what is less discussed is the way it recovers historical memory, unearthing contentious episodes which linger between oblivion and danger. Here Bruno discovers the last months of the Second World War, and the atrocities of the Milice. The enchanted countryside shows its darker side, as he explores motives which complicate the exposure of the criminals. Perhaps surprisingly, Bruno, Chief of Police has many of the characteristics of Golden Age novels, above all the apparently remote setting which reveals its involvement in wider events. Martin Walker’s Dordogne is worth a visit.’
‘Bruno Courrèges – Saint-Denis’s local (indeed, only) policeman, all-round sports coach, and the town’s most eligible bachelor – is called to the scene of a murder. An elderly, solitary ex-soldier whose children live in the village, has been found bound and eviscerated; a swastika has been carved into his chest. There are no clues; the victim is an Algerian immigrant who won the Croix de Guerre, and what is evidently a hate crime means that reinforcements from the two competing national forces are summoned. They attempt to shut the local man out of the investigation.
‘But, in addition to local knowledge, Bruno has connections of his own, as well as the support of an unusually savvy and powerful mayor, so by dint of goodwill, perseverance and luck, as well as the knowledge and help of a series of local inhabitants and incomers, more than one crime is solved. Along the way, Martin Walker explains and illuminates geography, sociology, politics, and the history of three wars with their resulting tensions and revenges.
‘A small town in the Dordogne, complete with the stereotypes one might expect from any celebration of an Englishman’s experience of rural France, may seem a risky setting for a crime novel. Walker, who is better known as a political journalist and commentator, has certain advantages which outweigh his cheery, deliberately charming, style of evoking la France profonde. He knows the Périgord, its food and its history; he has a good grasp of how corruption and insider trading by the elite of French regional and local government can sometimes function to check legal regulation and balance it with a semblance of humane justice. In addition, he understands how to use the conventions of light crime fiction to tell a story with unresolvable moral complexities. If he has a rose-tinted view of an essentially feudal regime, he uses his spectacles in a good cause.
‘Crime fiction is recognized as a place where, in the interests of realistic depiction, political correctness has no hold; what is less discussed is the way it recovers historical memory, unearthing contentious episodes which linger between oblivion and danger. Here Bruno discovers the last months of the Second World War, and the atrocities of the Milice. The enchanted countryside shows its darker side, as he explores motives which complicate the exposure of the criminals. Perhaps surprisingly, Bruno, Chief of Police has many of the characteristics of Golden Age novels, above all the apparently remote setting which reveals its involvement in wider events. Martin Walker’s Dordogne is worth a visit.’
‘It is a sort of mixture of A Year in Provence and Inspector Morse … the opening chapters smack more of Clochemerle than a crime story. However, he manages to pull it all off. The digressions into the joys of rural produce do work alongside the more gritty look at long-standing resentments and feelings of guilt dating back to Vichy France and the Second World War. I am sure that Bruno, Chief of Police, will be appearing again soon in another readable tale of rural France.’
Tangled Web website
Carol Dixon Smith, Waterstone’s
‘I love this book and wish the next were coming sometime soon! Bruno Courreges, our eponymous hero and local policeman, proudly draws you in with a charming Gallic arm around your shoulder, and shows you the small town he has chosen to make his home. Before you know it, you’re sitting down, glass of wine in hand, in cosy camaraderie with the inhabitants of St Denis, as their life gently unfolds around you.
‘To begin with a simple police report and then launch into a description of a policeman and the peculiar, tangled, personal contents of his small white van is a strange start, but it is so universally appealing that you have to read on. Within a couple of pages you are wishing yourself in France and cheering on the locals as they battle with EU Hygiene Inspectors. However, this rural idyll is shattered by a brutal murder that, by appearing to be racially motivated, unleashes an invasion of Police Nationale detectives, bureaucrats from Paris, TV news crews, and a mob of National Front thugs who cause a riot in the town. Around this Bruno uses his vital local knowledge and connections to skirt the main investigation and reveal the wartime roots of the killing.
‘Martin Walker has written a fine mystery – funny, sad, and eccentric with a smattering of love-interest and a great reflection of life in rural France. It is also a pacy and utterly compelling story in the best traditions of British crime writing.
A word of warning – this story is awash with food so be prepared – shop for wine, baguettes, pate and such like…as this is also a gastronomic delight!’
‘I love this book and wish the next were coming sometime soon! Bruno Courreges, our eponymous hero and local policeman, proudly draws you in with a charming Gallic arm around your shoulder, and shows you the small town he has chosen to make his home. Before you know it, you’re sitting down, glass of wine in hand, in cosy camaraderie with the inhabitants of St Denis, as their life gently unfolds around you.
‘To begin with a simple police report and then launch into a description of a policeman and the peculiar, tangled, personal contents of his small white van is a strange start, but it is so universally appealing that you have to read on. Within a couple of pages you are wishing yourself in France and cheering on the locals as they battle with EU Hygiene Inspectors. However, this rural idyll is shattered by a brutal murder that, by appearing to be racially motivated, unleashes an invasion of Police Nationale detectives, bureaucrats from Paris, TV news crews, and a mob of National Front thugs who cause a riot in the town. Around this Bruno uses his vital local knowledge and connections to skirt the main investigation and reveal the wartime roots of the killing.
‘Martin Walker has written a fine mystery – funny, sad, and eccentric with a smattering of love-interest and a great reflection of life in rural France. It is also a pacy and utterly compelling story in the best traditions of British crime writing.
A word of warning – this story is awash with food so be prepared – shop for wine, baguettes, pate and such like…as this is also a gastronomic delight!’
‘The pleasures of life in the Dordogne, some distinctive well-rounded characters and an intriguing mystery are a winning combination in Martin Walker’s Bruno, Chief of Police … Walker’s relaxed style and good humour help to bring to life his engaging hero and his delightful home and make one of the most enjoyable books I’ve read in a long time.’
Susanna Yager, Sunday Telegraph
Eurocrime website
‘Bruno, Chief of Police may be a gentle book but it does not pull its punches. It is well-written, introducing a charming, likeable main character: a satisfying detective story; and conveying a strong love and understanding of the Dordogne region of France … Although in many respects this a ‘feel-good’ book, providing an idyllic and partisan depiction of the French country way of life … the author is not afraid to address difficult issues head-on, personal and political … told with authority and style, as one might expect from an author who has written distinguished histories … I am glad that Bruno, Chief of Police is the first in a series, as I look forward to reading more about this charmingly self-deprecating man, his past (plenty of angles are hinted at) and his neighbours – not forgetting, of course, his next criminal case.’
‘Bruno, Chief of Police may be a gentle book but it does not pull its punches. It is well-written, introducing a charming, likeable main character: a satisfying detective story; and conveying a strong love and understanding of the Dordogne region of France … Although in many respects this a ‘feel-good’ book, providing an idyllic and partisan depiction of the French country way of life … the author is not afraid to address difficult issues head-on, personal and political … told with authority and style, as one might expect from an author who has written distinguished histories … I am glad that Bruno, Chief of Police is the first in a series, as I look forward to reading more about this charmingly self-deprecating man, his past (plenty of angles are hinted at) and his neighbours – not forgetting, of course, his next criminal case.’
‘Rural France, a bumbling but bright cop and a vicious crime … a clever plot which leads back to the Resistance and Vichy regime.’
Henry Sutton, Daily Mirror
Shotsmag website
‘Bruno Courreges is the local policeman for a sleepy commune in the heart of the Dordogne, whose regular duties include purchasing fireworks for local celebrations and teaching five year olds to play tennis. He is more used to kissing his fellow men and women than arresting them, and, as a bachelor of forty, is clearly ripe for romance. But the idyll is shattered when one of the local war-heroes is found brutally murdered, a swastika carved on his chest. At first the finger of suspicion points at the dope-smoking son of the doctor, but it is soon clear that the police should be looking not at the Far Right, nor at the spoilt pot-head. In fact, it is all a matter of feuds dating back to the days of Vichy France, and any attempt to expose the true killer will have appalling consequences on the comradely and well-integrated villagers.
‘Martin Walker comes with a huge reputation as a prize-winning journalist for the Guardian. He’s clearly done his market research for Bruno, Chief of Police, and the novel presses every sales button going: a lovely location, heart-warming characters, a little contemporary controversy, romantic love, food, wine – you name it, it’s got it. Go on, read it – and have a lovely wallow.’
‘Bruno Courreges is the local policeman for a sleepy commune in the heart of the Dordogne, whose regular duties include purchasing fireworks for local celebrations and teaching five year olds to play tennis. He is more used to kissing his fellow men and women than arresting them, and, as a bachelor of forty, is clearly ripe for romance. But the idyll is shattered when one of the local war-heroes is found brutally murdered, a swastika carved on his chest. At first the finger of suspicion points at the dope-smoking son of the doctor, but it is soon clear that the police should be looking not at the Far Right, nor at the spoilt pot-head. In fact, it is all a matter of feuds dating back to the days of Vichy France, and any attempt to expose the true killer will have appalling consequences on the comradely and well-integrated villagers.
‘Martin Walker comes with a huge reputation as a prize-winning journalist for the Guardian. He’s clearly done his market research for Bruno, Chief of Police, and the novel presses every sales button going: a lovely location, heart-warming characters, a little contemporary controversy, romantic love, food, wine – you name it, it’s got it. Go on, read it – and have a lovely wallow.’
‘A new series, set in south-west France, with an easy-going flic forced to uncover links to the area’s collaborationist past when a North African immigrant is murdered on market day.’
Stuart Kelly, Scotland on Sunday
French Embassy website
The first installment in a wonderful new series that follows the exploits of Benoît Courrèges, a policeman in a small French village where the rituals of the café still rule. Bruno—as he is affectionately nicknamed—may be the town’s only municipal policeman, but in the hearts and minds of its denizens, he is chief of police.
Bruno is a former soldier who has embraced the pleasures and slow rhythms of country life—living in his restored shepherd’s cottage; patronizing the weekly market; sparring with, and basically ignoring, the European Union bureaucrats from Brussels. He has a gun but never wears it; he has the power to arrest but never uses it. But then the murder of an elderly North African who fought in the French army changes everything and galvanizes Bruno’s attention: the man was found with a swastika carved into his chest.
Because of the case’s potential political ramifications, a young policewoman is sent from Paris to aid Bruno with his investigation. The two immediately suspect militants from the anti-immigrant National Front, but when a visiting scholar helps to untangle the dead man’s past, Bruno’s suspicions turn toward a more complex motive. His investigation draws him into one of the darkest chapters of French history—World War II, a time of terror and betrayal that set brother against brother. Bruno soon discovers that even his seemingly perfect corner of la belle France is not exempt from that period’s sinister legacy.
Bruno, Chief of Police is deftly dark, mesmerizing, and totally engaging.
The first installment in a wonderful new series that follows the exploits of Benoît Courrèges, a policeman in a small French village where the rituals of the café still rule. Bruno—as he is affectionately nicknamed—may be the town’s only municipal policeman, but in the hearts and minds of its denizens, he is chief of police.
Bruno is a former soldier who has embraced the pleasures and slow rhythms of country life—living in his restored shepherd’s cottage; patronizing the weekly market; sparring with, and basically ignoring, the European Union bureaucrats from Brussels. He has a gun but never wears it; he has the power to arrest but never uses it. But then the murder of an elderly North African who fought in the French army changes everything and galvanizes Bruno’s attention: the man was found with a swastika carved into his chest.
Because of the case’s potential political ramifications, a young policewoman is sent from Paris to aid Bruno with his investigation. The two immediately suspect militants from the anti-immigrant National Front, but when a visiting scholar helps to untangle the dead man’s past, Bruno’s suspicions turn toward a more complex motive. His investigation draws him into one of the darkest chapters of French history—World War II, a time of terror and betrayal that set brother against brother. Bruno soon discovers that even his seemingly perfect corner of la belle France is not exempt from that period’s sinister legacy.
Bruno, Chief of Police is deftly dark, mesmerizing, and totally engaging.
