The Devil's Cave
Denis MacShane, MP, Tribune
MPs get fatuous surveys where you’re asked to list the books you’ll be reading on holiday. You’re expected to list improving tomes by ponderous professors who have the instant solution to all our woes. Yeah, whatever. Here’s a great book stuffed full of politics – but told as a page-turning thriller.
Martin Walker, the best Guardian foreign correspondent of his generation, has dropped his geo-political books and biographies to give us a novel on today’s France. Set in the Dordogne, The Devil’s Cave has a local cop, Bruno, an ex-hero who saved women in the Bosnian war, guiding us effortlessly through the way modern France works. The plot concerns Satanism, sex-swapping parties, Arab cocaine dealers and dodgy planning permission – all intermingled with the cuisine, culture and history of the barely-disguised south-west French town where Walker lives when not in Washington.
It is a novel, but as we look at Dominique Strauss-Kahn or police raiding Nicolas Sarkozy’s flat in Paris in connection with foreign financing of his election campaigns it’s hard to forget that Walker was a great Europe editor and knows the complex hierarchies of French politics better than most French citizens. At a time when such dross as the “quivering rod” fantasy porn of EL James swamps our bookshops, it’s good to see that British publishers are bringing out well-crafted and enjoyable novels fit for intelligent adults to read. And, if you like France, it’s a must.
MPs get fatuous surveys where you’re asked to list the books you’ll be reading on holiday. You’re expected to list improving tomes by ponderous professors who have the instant solution to all our woes. Yeah, whatever. Here’s a great book stuffed full of politics – but told as a page-turning thriller.
Martin Walker, the best Guardian foreign correspondent of his generation, has dropped his geo-political books and biographies to give us a novel on today’s France. Set in the Dordogne, The Devil’s Cave has a local cop, Bruno, an ex-hero who saved women in the Bosnian war, guiding us effortlessly through the way modern France works. The plot concerns Satanism, sex-swapping parties, Arab cocaine dealers and dodgy planning permission – all intermingled with the cuisine, culture and history of the barely-disguised south-west French town where Walker lives when not in Washington.
It is a novel, but as we look at Dominique Strauss-Kahn or police raiding Nicolas Sarkozy’s flat in Paris in connection with foreign financing of his election campaigns it’s hard to forget that Walker was a great Europe editor and knows the complex hierarchies of French politics better than most French citizens. At a time when such dross as the “quivering rod” fantasy porn of EL James swamps our bookshops, it’s good to see that British publishers are bringing out well-crafted and enjoyable novels fit for intelligent adults to read. And, if you like France, it’s a must.
I am adding Bruno, Chief of Police by Martin Walker to my favorite sleuth list.
mobileread.com
Irish Examiner
Former Guardian reporter Martin Walker returns with the fifth adventure for his French country cop, Bruno Chief of Police. The novel opens with the peace and quiet of summer in the Dordogne dashed when a body in a boat floats downriver into the quiet town of St Denis.
Soon Bruno is deep in an investigation taking him into a world of black magic, political corruption and the almost-forgotten activities of the French resistance.
The book’s darker edges are balanced out by a likeable main character and Walker’s obvious love for and understanding of French country life is obvious in every page.
The page-turning plot also allows for brief forays into Bruno’s complicated love life and lovingly detailed descriptions of his culinary skills while not losing any of its pace.
An enjoyable read for crime fans — Francophile or not.
Former Guardian reporter Martin Walker returns with the fifth adventure for his French country cop, Bruno Chief of Police. The novel opens with the peace and quiet of summer in the Dordogne dashed when a body in a boat floats downriver into the quiet town of St Denis.
Soon Bruno is deep in an investigation taking him into a world of black magic, political corruption and the almost-forgotten activities of the French resistance.
The book’s darker edges are balanced out by a likeable main character and Walker’s obvious love for and understanding of French country life is obvious in every page.
The page-turning plot also allows for brief forays into Bruno’s complicated love life and lovingly detailed descriptions of his culinary skills while not losing any of its pace.
An enjoyable read for crime fans — Francophile or not.
Andre van Loon, www.welovethisbook.com
Martin Walker’s fifth installment in the Bruno series is elegant, worldly and full of the pleasures of living in France – yet its main appeal is its focus on a good guy in an imperfect world.
Bruno is a policeman in St Denis, a small village in the Périgord region of France. The Devil’s Cave traces his investigation of an apparent case of Satanism. A female body drifts into the village one day in an old boat, naked and marked with a pentagram. At the same time Bruno is dealing with a case of domestic abuse and investigating fraud allegations against local development planners. The varied cast of characters ranges from the local mayor, Bruno’s police colleagues and people in the village, to the ‘Red Countess’ – an elderly aristocrat with a Communist past – her grandson Count Vexin and his entourage. Bruno’s personal life of horse riding, Balzac the basset hound, eating and drinking and romantic entanglements is also a major part of the story.
The Devil’s Cave is slow to start. There is rather less suspense than might be expected following the shocking sight of a drifting corpse. It takes a while for a sense of unified purpose to become apparent in the story. The ending, however, is superb in its relentless sense of truth catching up with falsehood. In contrast to many personally troubled, morally ambiguous policemen in other books and on television, Bruno is also refreshingly honest and morally upright. The Devil’s Cave is well worth reading, with four earlier installments to discover for those who get a taste for Bruno, Chief of Police.
Martin Walker’s fifth installment in the Bruno series is elegant, worldly and full of the pleasures of living in France – yet its main appeal is its focus on a good guy in an imperfect world.
Bruno is a policeman in St Denis, a small village in the Périgord region of France. The Devil’s Cave traces his investigation of an apparent case of Satanism. A female body drifts into the village one day in an old boat, naked and marked with a pentagram. At the same time Bruno is dealing with a case of domestic abuse and investigating fraud allegations against local development planners. The varied cast of characters ranges from the local mayor, Bruno’s police colleagues and people in the village, to the ‘Red Countess’ – an elderly aristocrat with a Communist past – her grandson Count Vexin and his entourage. Bruno’s personal life of horse riding, Balzac the basset hound, eating and drinking and romantic entanglements is also a major part of the story.
The Devil’s Cave is slow to start. There is rather less suspense than might be expected following the shocking sight of a drifting corpse. It takes a while for a sense of unified purpose to become apparent in the story. The ending, however, is superb in its relentless sense of truth catching up with falsehood. In contrast to many personally troubled, morally ambiguous policemen in other books and on television, Bruno is also refreshingly honest and morally upright. The Devil’s Cave is well worth reading, with four earlier installments to discover for those who get a taste for Bruno, Chief of Police.
www.thebookbag.co.uk
Easter was just two weeks away when Satanism came to St Denis. The naked body of a woman was spotted in an old punt drifting down the river. There looked to be a tattoo of a pentagram on her body and there were black candles at each end of the punt – but there was nothing to indicate the identity of the woman or where she had come from. Bruno Courreges, the Chief of Police had enough on his plate without this: he’d had an anonymous letter about some domestic abuse which had to be looked into and the town held a development proposal which seemed just too good to be true – even though it might mean that Bruno got the sports hall which he’d been after for quite a while.
It’s the fifth book in the Bruno Courreges series and the second I’ve read. They’ve both worked well as standalone books but there are hints about what has gone on in earlier episodes. If a police procedural set in the Dordogne appeals – particularly if you’re a lover of good food – then you might be better off starting at the beginning with Bruno, Chief of Police and working your way through. On the other hand, if you’re looking for some engaging entertainment as a beach read or for a wet afternoon then you’re unlikely to go far wrong. I read The Devil’s Cave in one sitting when the weather was more like January than July.
Satanism as a subject doesn’t appeal to me but here it supports the story rather than dominates it. The background research is excellent and in the story I found the subject interesting when I didn’t expect to. More interesting, though, was the way that business – large and small – was prepared to take advantage of what had happened and to make some money out of it. My natural cynicism was gently fanned into flame. The story all ties very neatly together and comes to a most satisfying conclusion. It wasn’t entirely unexpected – but it was enjoyable as was the setting in the Dordogne, which really comes to life.
Bruno Courreges makes a good central character, with a background in the army and a certain weakness where women are concerned. Bruno isn’t just the star of the book – heis the book, coming off the page fully clothed. Women are more two-dimensional figures – even those who are centre stage in the story – but it’s a book to be read as a good story rather than as great literature.
Easter was just two weeks away when Satanism came to St Denis. The naked body of a woman was spotted in an old punt drifting down the river. There looked to be a tattoo of a pentagram on her body and there were black candles at each end of the punt – but there was nothing to indicate the identity of the woman or where she had come from. Bruno Courreges, the Chief of Police had enough on his plate without this: he’d had an anonymous letter about some domestic abuse which had to be looked into and the town held a development proposal which seemed just too good to be true – even though it might mean that Bruno got the sports hall which he’d been after for quite a while.
It’s the fifth book in the Bruno Courreges series and the second I’ve read. They’ve both worked well as standalone books but there are hints about what has gone on in earlier episodes. If a police procedural set in the Dordogne appeals – particularly if you’re a lover of good food – then you might be better off starting at the beginning with Bruno, Chief of Police and working your way through. On the other hand, if you’re looking for some engaging entertainment as a beach read or for a wet afternoon then you’re unlikely to go far wrong. I read The Devil’s Cave in one sitting when the weather was more like January than July.
Satanism as a subject doesn’t appeal to me but here it supports the story rather than dominates it. The background research is excellent and in the story I found the subject interesting when I didn’t expect to. More interesting, though, was the way that business – large and small – was prepared to take advantage of what had happened and to make some money out of it. My natural cynicism was gently fanned into flame. The story all ties very neatly together and comes to a most satisfying conclusion. It wasn’t entirely unexpected – but it was enjoyable as was the setting in the Dordogne, which really comes to life.
Bruno Courreges makes a good central character, with a background in the army and a certain weakness where women are concerned. Bruno isn’t just the star of the book – heis the book, coming off the page fully clothed. Women are more two-dimensional figures – even those who are centre stage in the story – but it’s a book to be read as a good story rather than as great literature.
novelheights.com
I have to apologise because the presence of the world’s largest sporting event on my doorstep seems to have interrupted my blogging. It started with a visit by the torch, then there was cycling through the nearby villages, and finally 24 channels of TV. It’s been hard to tear myself away, but in a few days it will all be gone & life will have to return to normal.
So attacking the pile of books which I should review ‘The Devil’s Cave’ by Martin Walker, sent by the kind folk at Quercus, is top of the stack. I have to confess that until I went to Crimefest I hadn’t heard of Martin, and even then, with all the new authors I was introduced to, he didn’t strike me as an author I needed to rush out and buy. How wrong I was!
The Devil’s Cave is the fifth title in the Bruno Courrèges series – more commonly called “Bruno, Chief of Police”. Bruno lives and polices in a rural town in the Périgord region of France – which sounds idyllic and I could only visualise a sort of French “Midsomer”. It’s also easy to draw parallels with another crime fiction series set in Continental Europe and featuring a food-loving policemen – Andrea Camilleri. Possibly describing the book as a cross between Midsomer Murders and Inspector Montalbano does it no favours though!
Coming in at the fifth book in a series does make you wonder if you will feel as if you’ve missed too much, or if there will be too much explanation of what’s gone before getting in the way of the current story. I think that by and large this struck the right balance, I knew enough to follow the story and characters, but not too much. Although there were one or two references to Bruno’s past which may spoil the earlier titles if I go back to them.
So what about the story? The book opens with the body of a naked woman in a boat drifting down the river and into the town. At first thought to be a suicide, the initial puzzle is to identify the dead woman. Rumours of Satanism abound and soon enterprising townsfolk are cashing in on the sudden increase in visitors to the town. While Bruno tries to work on the case he has to deal with the more mundane aspects of his job – a husband who has beaten his wife, and a Mayor who is keen to support a new development near the town. Bruno’s personal life is also interesting with several ladies featuring as well as a fair amount of cooking!
The mysteries at the heart of the story are well thought out and make for an interesting story, Bruno is an engaging character, and who could fail to be charmed by the French setting. The final showdown was quite complex, but also given a decent proportion of the book – not crammed into a few pages at the end. This was a real antidote to some of the darker crime fiction I’ve read recently.
I’m looking forward to exploring more of the Bruno, Chief of Police titles.
I have to apologise because the presence of the world’s largest sporting event on my doorstep seems to have interrupted my blogging. It started with a visit by the torch, then there was cycling through the nearby villages, and finally 24 channels of TV. It’s been hard to tear myself away, but in a few days it will all be gone & life will have to return to normal.
So attacking the pile of books which I should review ‘The Devil’s Cave’ by Martin Walker, sent by the kind folk at Quercus, is top of the stack. I have to confess that until I went to Crimefest I hadn’t heard of Martin, and even then, with all the new authors I was introduced to, he didn’t strike me as an author I needed to rush out and buy. How wrong I was!
The Devil’s Cave is the fifth title in the Bruno Courrèges series – more commonly called “Bruno, Chief of Police”. Bruno lives and polices in a rural town in the Périgord region of France – which sounds idyllic and I could only visualise a sort of French “Midsomer”. It’s also easy to draw parallels with another crime fiction series set in Continental Europe and featuring a food-loving policemen – Andrea Camilleri. Possibly describing the book as a cross between Midsomer Murders and Inspector Montalbano does it no favours though!
Coming in at the fifth book in a series does make you wonder if you will feel as if you’ve missed too much, or if there will be too much explanation of what’s gone before getting in the way of the current story. I think that by and large this struck the right balance, I knew enough to follow the story and characters, but not too much. Although there were one or two references to Bruno’s past which may spoil the earlier titles if I go back to them.
So what about the story? The book opens with the body of a naked woman in a boat drifting down the river and into the town. At first thought to be a suicide, the initial puzzle is to identify the dead woman. Rumours of Satanism abound and soon enterprising townsfolk are cashing in on the sudden increase in visitors to the town. While Bruno tries to work on the case he has to deal with the more mundane aspects of his job – a husband who has beaten his wife, and a Mayor who is keen to support a new development near the town. Bruno’s personal life is also interesting with several ladies featuring as well as a fair amount of cooking!
The mysteries at the heart of the story are well thought out and make for an interesting story, Bruno is an engaging character, and who could fail to be charmed by the French setting. The final showdown was quite complex, but also given a decent proportion of the book – not crammed into a few pages at the end. This was a real antidote to some of the darker crime fiction I’ve read recently.
I’m looking forward to exploring more of the Bruno, Chief of Police titles.
Minneapolis Star Tribune
Bruno Courreges may be France’s rumply answer to Sean Connery’s dapper James Bond. The chief of police is as comfortable in his handbuilt home in the bucolic Perigord region as the sophisticated spy was in luxury hotels. Not for Bruno the fancy cars, strong drinks and fast women. Instead, he drives an office van, he’s been a locavore since long before the word existed and he is as committed to the women in his life as they’ll let him be. (That is women, plural; he is French, after all.)
As chief of police of sleepy St. Denis, he knows that it’s better to prevent crime than solve it, better to guide youthful offenders than punish them. So when a big, weird crime happens, it’s disturbing — and not only because the intrigue is gripping or because the town must grapple with whether to capitalize on the sensational events.
The black mass in a storied cave and the naked dead woman floating down the river were less interesting to me than Bruno’s attempts to cope with these assaults on his daily routine. Would he be able to make it home in time to ride and feed his horse? What would he throw together for dinner after investigating in the cold cave all day (an onion soup with venison stock, followed by a risotto with duck and mushrooms). Could he do an end-run around his higher-ups? And how, really, can Isabelle and Pamela tear themselves away from him?
Suffice it to say that Bruno solves the mystery woman’s death and this reader was stirred, not shaken.
Bruno Courreges may be France’s rumply answer to Sean Connery’s dapper James Bond. The chief of police is as comfortable in his handbuilt home in the bucolic Perigord region as the sophisticated spy was in luxury hotels. Not for Bruno the fancy cars, strong drinks and fast women. Instead, he drives an office van, he’s been a locavore since long before the word existed and he is as committed to the women in his life as they’ll let him be. (That is women, plural; he is French, after all.)
As chief of police of sleepy St. Denis, he knows that it’s better to prevent crime than solve it, better to guide youthful offenders than punish them. So when a big, weird crime happens, it’s disturbing — and not only because the intrigue is gripping or because the town must grapple with whether to capitalize on the sensational events.
The black mass in a storied cave and the naked dead woman floating down the river were less interesting to me than Bruno’s attempts to cope with these assaults on his daily routine. Would he be able to make it home in time to ride and feed his horse? What would he throw together for dinner after investigating in the cold cave all day (an onion soup with venison stock, followed by a risotto with duck and mushrooms). Could he do an end-run around his higher-ups? And how, really, can Isabelle and Pamela tear themselves away from him?
Suffice it to say that Bruno solves the mystery woman’s death and this reader was stirred, not shaken.
The Washingtonian
If you’re looking for an affordable way to have an adventure in the French countryside this summer, try Martin Walker’s latest Bruno Courrèges novel, The Devil’s Cave. Set in a fictional Dordogne village called St Denis, this leisurely whodunit strikes a captivating balance between suspense and delight.
The Devil’s Cave is Walker’s fifth novel in the series, but the plot is self-contained enough to welcome newcomers. Bruno, St Denis’s chief of police, is enjoying a church choir rehearsal when he receives word that a villager has spotted a naked woman’s body floating down the river in a boat. Her death is presumed a suicide, but a pentagram on her stomach suggests something more wicked. Meanwhile, the town is up in arms over a proposal to build a resort nearby. Is the devil at work in St Denis? Or has this real-estate war turned bloody?
Compared with today’s grisly Scandinavian crime fiction, the novel’s violence and sex are refreshingly muted. Yes, bodies turn up, but Walker’s characters tend to perish outside the narrative. And when Bruno congratulates himself for putting clean sheets on the bed after a teasing kiss from his lover, it doesn’t take much to imagine what’s going to happen later that evening.
Walker—a former Guardian reporter and now senior director at the Global Business Policy Council, a think tank in Washington—divides his time between the US and the region where the novel is set. He breaks from the plot in several instances to celebrate rustic dishes, such as poulet bière au cul, or beer-can chicken, and tourain, a soup made from duck stock, garlic, salt, stale bread, and eggs.
Perhaps The Devil’s Cave’s greatest pleasure is in watching the deliberate, determined way the police chief works. “You’re a strange person, Bruno,” a friend tells him. “I’ve never known anyone so sure that there has to be a solution to everything, if we can only find it.”
If you’re looking for an affordable way to have an adventure in the French countryside this summer, try Martin Walker’s latest Bruno Courrèges novel, The Devil’s Cave. Set in a fictional Dordogne village called St Denis, this leisurely whodunit strikes a captivating balance between suspense and delight.
The Devil’s Cave is Walker’s fifth novel in the series, but the plot is self-contained enough to welcome newcomers. Bruno, St Denis’s chief of police, is enjoying a church choir rehearsal when he receives word that a villager has spotted a naked woman’s body floating down the river in a boat. Her death is presumed a suicide, but a pentagram on her stomach suggests something more wicked. Meanwhile, the town is up in arms over a proposal to build a resort nearby. Is the devil at work in St Denis? Or has this real-estate war turned bloody?
Compared with today’s grisly Scandinavian crime fiction, the novel’s violence and sex are refreshingly muted. Yes, bodies turn up, but Walker’s characters tend to perish outside the narrative. And when Bruno congratulates himself for putting clean sheets on the bed after a teasing kiss from his lover, it doesn’t take much to imagine what’s going to happen later that evening.
Walker—a former Guardian reporter and now senior director at the Global Business Policy Council, a think tank in Washington—divides his time between the US and the region where the novel is set. He breaks from the plot in several instances to celebrate rustic dishes, such as poulet bière au cul, or beer-can chicken, and tourain, a soup made from duck stock, garlic, salt, stale bread, and eggs.
Perhaps The Devil’s Cave’s greatest pleasure is in watching the deliberate, determined way the police chief works. “You’re a strange person, Bruno,” a friend tells him. “I’ve never known anyone so sure that there has to be a solution to everything, if we can only find it.”
The Advocate
Martin Walker is senior director of the Global Business Policy Council and editor in chief emeritus at the United Press International. He has a holiday home in the Dordogne region of southwest France, and there had the happy inspiration for a series of novels based on the fictional small town of St. Denis and its chief of police, Bruno Courrèges. They have acquired a devoted following in Europe as well as in the United States.
The Devil’s Cave opens with a small flat-bottomed boat floating slowly along the Vézère River as it passes through St. Denis, the boat heavily laden with the body of a beautiful and dead woman, a pentagram painted onto her naked body. The local priest, Father Sentout, declares a satanic connection, for, as Chief Bruno agrees, “Getting alarmed about the devil is part of his job description.”
The longtime mayor is at first outraged, fearing for his town’s reputation, but photographs in the local newspaper Sud Ouest quickly draw hundreds of the curious to fill the hotel and cafés. The investigation begins with a Black Mass but quickly expands to include the financial machinations of an outside group petitioning to build a resort — after the town provides the infrastructure. The past intrudes on the present through the role of the “Red Countess,” descended via a royal mistress from Louis XVI, who carried out heroic deeds during the World War II Resistance and then became a dedicated Communist.
Central to the plot is one of the Dordogne’s famous caves, the Gouffre de Colombac, called the “Devil’s Cave,” where French guerrillas once hid themselves and weapons from the Germans and is now a tourist attraction. Many tunnels of the cave have been barely explored, and at least one has an entrance kept secret because “you never know when the Germans will come again. Or the English.”
Chief Bruno is the quintessential French policeman: He knows the secrets of everyone in town and will never reveal any of them — unless a crime has been committed. Here is the ultimate definition of “community policing.” Bruno is impossible to dislike: wise, kind, and gentle — carrying his new basset hound puppy in a binocular case around his neck. He is also a lover of local delicacies, good wine, and beautiful women — a stereotype, but c’est la France.
Martin Walker is senior director of the Global Business Policy Council and editor in chief emeritus at the United Press International. He has a holiday home in the Dordogne region of southwest France, and there had the happy inspiration for a series of novels based on the fictional small town of St. Denis and its chief of police, Bruno Courrèges. They have acquired a devoted following in Europe as well as in the United States.
The Devil’s Cave opens with a small flat-bottomed boat floating slowly along the Vézère River as it passes through St. Denis, the boat heavily laden with the body of a beautiful and dead woman, a pentagram painted onto her naked body. The local priest, Father Sentout, declares a satanic connection, for, as Chief Bruno agrees, “Getting alarmed about the devil is part of his job description.”
The longtime mayor is at first outraged, fearing for his town’s reputation, but photographs in the local newspaper Sud Ouest quickly draw hundreds of the curious to fill the hotel and cafés. The investigation begins with a Black Mass but quickly expands to include the financial machinations of an outside group petitioning to build a resort — after the town provides the infrastructure. The past intrudes on the present through the role of the “Red Countess,” descended via a royal mistress from Louis XVI, who carried out heroic deeds during the World War II Resistance and then became a dedicated Communist.
Central to the plot is one of the Dordogne’s famous caves, the Gouffre de Colombac, called the “Devil’s Cave,” where French guerrillas once hid themselves and weapons from the Germans and is now a tourist attraction. Many tunnels of the cave have been barely explored, and at least one has an entrance kept secret because “you never know when the Germans will come again. Or the English.”
Chief Bruno is the quintessential French policeman: He knows the secrets of everyone in town and will never reveal any of them — unless a crime has been committed. Here is the ultimate definition of “community policing.” Bruno is impossible to dislike: wise, kind, and gentle — carrying his new basset hound puppy in a binocular case around his neck. He is also a lover of local delicacies, good wine, and beautiful women — a stereotype, but c’est la France.
Kingdom Books
A delightful French mystery series came my way this summer, and I'm only sorry that I discovered it so late -- the "Bruno, Chief of Police" books by Martin Walker are already in the fifth title in the U.S., as THE DEVIL'S CAVE was released here in July. Title number 6, The Resistance Man, is already published in Europe and will reach the States in February 2014.
Bruno Courrèges may reside in rural France, but his passions are as sophisticated as any in Paris -- he cooks (the descriptions make my mouth water), enjoys the company of intelligent women (and makes love with them), and also savors building his own house, as well as hunting. Bruno's "St. Denis" is located in the Dordogne in southwestern France, and both tourism and sport center on its river.
But in THE DEVIL'S CAVE, the two significant features of the region are its potential for upscale lodgings, and its potential for increased tourism at the local attraction known at the Devil's Cave, where pedal boats, a café, and a souvenir shop await visitors. "Smaller chambers led off from the main space, and the eerie formations of stalagmites and stalactites had been carefully lit to justify the rather-fanciful names thay had been given, such as Our Lady's Chapel ... or Napoléon's Bedchamber."
Now, unfortunately, a dead woman found floating down the river in the heart of town -- naked -- appears to be linked to Satanism in the town, perhaps in a chamber of the cavern. As Chief of Police, Bruno investigates the possibilities, while simultaneously coping with an apparent case of spouse and child battering; a possible entry of prostitution in an element of the new tourism; emerging aspects of the murder that may have links to the past (this is France; the German occupation and the mistresses of past kings seem to have equal significance in affecting the present).
I enjoyed Bruno's steady and determined investigation, but equally enjoyed the diversions of his life: at least two women who want to spend time with him, and his tendency to cook for any guest, male or female, in his home. (They also prepare feasts for him.) Even the smallest menu item attracts a culinary complexity that American mysteries -- other than those featuring the great Nero Wolfe -- seldom indulge. As the case begins to crack open and the charges in front of the procureur are prepared, Bruno juggles phone calls and replicates a black-market-prepared dish from the war years:
Bruno rang J-J's mobile to alert him but had to leave a message. He'd wait for Fabiola's next call before informing the procureur. He finished the potatoes, peeled some shallots, set the table for two and lit the fire. Back in the kitchen, he opened a can of beer, drank half of it and then used an opener to punch some more holes in the top of the beer can. He took a large chunk of butter and began working it with a knife and mixing in the chopped garlic. He added some fresh rosemary from the garden and then began pushing the buttery mixture under the skin of the chicken as far as he could reach ... Gilles would arrive soon.
Martin Walker, himself a half-time resident of the Dordogne and a think-tank senior director, vacillates a bit in how intimate he allows the reader to become with this police investigator, whose kitchen-friendly ways are coupled with athleticism and a strong attraction for and attractiveness to women. While I found myself very familiar with Bruno's cuisine, I was less certain of how he'd respond to the stresses of the investigation, including to what extent he'd resist the political pressure. After all, a murder case isn't good for tourism! Nor is it politically wise to threaten to shut down a new architectural project that includes a sports hall for the region.
I haven't read any of the others in this series, and I will soon do so, to get a better feel for Bruno. Meanwhile, the website of this unusual author provides both a personal blog and insight into both the kitchen and the (wine) cellar of the Chief of Police:http://www.brunochiefofpolice.com.
Fans of Donna Leon's Venice mysteries will find similarities here. I recommend adding Martin Walker's mysteries to the shelf of internationals that may be growing into a full--size bookcase or even a wall, depending on how you're pursuing them. When the power of dark Scandinavian crime fiction makes you yearn afterward for a hint of fresh sunlight and easy loving mixed into your crime reading, Bruno, Chief of Police, will fit the bill.
A delightful French mystery series came my way this summer, and I'm only sorry that I discovered it so late -- the "Bruno, Chief of Police" books by Martin Walker are already in the fifth title in the U.S., as THE DEVIL'S CAVE was released here in July. Title number 6, The Resistance Man, is already published in Europe and will reach the States in February 2014.
Bruno Courrèges may reside in rural France, but his passions are as sophisticated as any in Paris -- he cooks (the descriptions make my mouth water), enjoys the company of intelligent women (and makes love with them), and also savors building his own house, as well as hunting. Bruno's "St. Denis" is located in the Dordogne in southwestern France, and both tourism and sport center on its river.
But in THE DEVIL'S CAVE, the two significant features of the region are its potential for upscale lodgings, and its potential for increased tourism at the local attraction known at the Devil's Cave, where pedal boats, a café, and a souvenir shop await visitors. "Smaller chambers led off from the main space, and the eerie formations of stalagmites and stalactites had been carefully lit to justify the rather-fanciful names thay had been given, such as Our Lady's Chapel ... or Napoléon's Bedchamber."
Now, unfortunately, a dead woman found floating down the river in the heart of town -- naked -- appears to be linked to Satanism in the town, perhaps in a chamber of the cavern. As Chief of Police, Bruno investigates the possibilities, while simultaneously coping with an apparent case of spouse and child battering; a possible entry of prostitution in an element of the new tourism; emerging aspects of the murder that may have links to the past (this is France; the German occupation and the mistresses of past kings seem to have equal significance in affecting the present).
I enjoyed Bruno's steady and determined investigation, but equally enjoyed the diversions of his life: at least two women who want to spend time with him, and his tendency to cook for any guest, male or female, in his home. (They also prepare feasts for him.) Even the smallest menu item attracts a culinary complexity that American mysteries -- other than those featuring the great Nero Wolfe -- seldom indulge. As the case begins to crack open and the charges in front of the procureur are prepared, Bruno juggles phone calls and replicates a black-market-prepared dish from the war years:
Bruno rang J-J's mobile to alert him but had to leave a message. He'd wait for Fabiola's next call before informing the procureur. He finished the potatoes, peeled some shallots, set the table for two and lit the fire. Back in the kitchen, he opened a can of beer, drank half of it and then used an opener to punch some more holes in the top of the beer can. He took a large chunk of butter and began working it with a knife and mixing in the chopped garlic. He added some fresh rosemary from the garden and then began pushing the buttery mixture under the skin of the chicken as far as he could reach ... Gilles would arrive soon.
Martin Walker, himself a half-time resident of the Dordogne and a think-tank senior director, vacillates a bit in how intimate he allows the reader to become with this police investigator, whose kitchen-friendly ways are coupled with athleticism and a strong attraction for and attractiveness to women. While I found myself very familiar with Bruno's cuisine, I was less certain of how he'd respond to the stresses of the investigation, including to what extent he'd resist the political pressure. After all, a murder case isn't good for tourism! Nor is it politically wise to threaten to shut down a new architectural project that includes a sports hall for the region.
I haven't read any of the others in this series, and I will soon do so, to get a better feel for Bruno. Meanwhile, the website of this unusual author provides both a personal blog and insight into both the kitchen and the (wine) cellar of the Chief of Police:http://www.brunochiefofpolice.com.
Fans of Donna Leon's Venice mysteries will find similarities here. I recommend adding Martin Walker's mysteries to the shelf of internationals that may be growing into a full--size bookcase or even a wall, depending on how you're pursuing them. When the power of dark Scandinavian crime fiction makes you yearn afterward for a hint of fresh sunlight and easy loving mixed into your crime reading, Bruno, Chief of Police, will fit the bill.
Entertainment Weekly
The fifth outing to star Bruno Courreges – an astute cop in a truffle- and cheese-laden village in the Perigord region of France – is Walker’s finest yet, a first-rate mystery.
The fifth outing to star Bruno Courreges – an astute cop in a truffle- and cheese-laden village in the Perigord region of France – is Walker’s finest yet, a first-rate mystery.
