Reading for pleasure

James Wolff (Bitter Lemon Press: £9.99; e-book £5.99)

British Intelligence face a number of officers who are subject to investigation. Leonard Flood is known for his efficacy in securing confessions and how to play people. He is a natural choice to be brought into the “Gatekeepers” headed by Charles Remnant, a man who by his nature sees conspiracies and traitors everywhere and who takes the view that colleagues should observe colleagues and report any suspicious behaviour.

Willa Karlsson left the service unexpectedly quickly and has now been found poisoned. Was she the victim of a Russian plot? If so, why? She has been a rising star but then decided herself that she wanted to develop her career in recruitment of agents. She has placed over 200. Do they pose a threat?

Leonard is asked to investigate Willa, which he soon finds leads him to a remote country house hotel in Norfolk, where he is accompanied by fellow spook Franny.

Mixing narrative with memos, emails and telephone transcripts, the author keeps the plot moving forward at a heady rate. This is Wolff’s third book and while each is centred around a character from the security services, they are individual and standalone.

This is a page turner with a couple of neat twists and turns of plot which make for a satisfying read.

Patti McCracken (Mudlark: £16.99; e-book £9.99)

It’s an everyday story of crime novels, isn’t it? Take an unassuming character and turn them into a serial killer. Dozens and dozens of deaths. A regular occurrence, almost.

The chilling thing about this book is that it’s not a work of fiction. At the heart of the little Hungarian town of Nagyrév was the local midwife and unofficial physician, Susannah Fazekas, or Aunty Suzy as she was universally known. One hears tales of moral dilemmas in the work of midwives, of horribly deformed babies who, their mothers are told, were stillborn. Leaving aside any ethical debates, that’s a far cry from Aunty Suzy. Among her phials and potions were distillations of arsenic obtained from flypapers. One bottle alone, she boasted, contained enough to kill 100 men.

We first meet Aunty Suzy assisting at a difficult birth for a stressed mother who is failing to produce any milk. A tragedy in the waiting, no doubt, but we hear Suzy’s words, “Would you like me to do something about the baby?” A baby killer? Well, Suzy would justify her activities as being “an angel maker”, hence the title.

But it didn’t stop there. Patti McCracken quotes a lyric from a Hungarian folk song, If your husband has you seething/Belladonna you must feed him/Add some pepper, make it pleasing/He’ll be laid out by the evening. Over the course of 10 years or so Suzy, together with a good number of the women of the village, put this into lethal practice. A badly disabled relative; an abusive husband; a wealthy but unfaithful one. Nagyrév was not a good place to get on the wrong side of your wife.

A new doctor became suspicious and alerted the authorities, but in the immediate aftermath of the First World War, resources were strained. Eventually a confession was obtained and Suzy was convicted, only to be cleared on appeal. This seems to have emboldened her. Her group of conspirators swelled. Over 10 to 15 years they may have notched up as many as 160 victims.

Patti McCracken does a remarkable job in bringing the village to life and in conveying the story. It is her remarkably down to earth documentary style which exacerbates the true horror. Finish the book and only then does it really sink in. Reflecting on this afterwards, I’m reminded of Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood, and that’s high praise.

Lynne Truss (Raven Books: £8.99; e-book £4.53)

I have no idea how it has taken me this long to make the acquaintance of Constable Twitten, Brighton Constabulary’s newest recruit in 1957. This book, the second in the series of his adventures, was first published in 2019, although this edition was issued this year. Twitten’s career got off to a shaky start when he publicly announced that the person in charge of all major crime in Brighton since 1951 was… Mrs Groynes, the station charlady.

His superiors, Inspector Geoffrey St John Steine and Sergeant James Brunswick, of course ridicule this. Steine is a “wireless personality” (if you understand this, you’re showing your age; if you don’t, ask your granny). He is about to be immortalised in wax by Pierre Tussard at ze famous ’Ouse of Wax for the very reasonable fee of £35.10s (plus a spare uniform and pair of shoes). Brunswick will soon end up playing trumpet in the house band of Ma Benson’s Black Cat Club. But I’m jumping ahead.

First we must meet the Brighton Belles, ladies of beauty who can despatch your postcards, and direct you to the nearest chemist in three languages. Their other requirements were that they must be tall, shapely and fair of face with excellent posture. They have to be well spoken, courteous and blind to class difference. They also need to be total pros at brushing off sexual advances without causing offence. Do Phyllis and Adelaide truly meet all the requirements, or is there even more to them?

Can we believe everything Twitten heard pass between Deirdre Benson and Weedy Pete Dupont while being mistaken for a waxwork? Was club singer Dickie really as discreet as Deirdre believed? And could Hoagland truly be trusted?

If I tell you that we’re barely up to p 20, you may get an idea of the topsy-turvy not to say lunatic world Lynne Truss has invited us into. And once in, you are trapped. The only reason you’ll want to put this book down is because your sides are sore with laughter. Just remember that not everything is as it seems – except when it is, that’s to say sometimes.

Don’t read it in bed, as you’ll disturb your other half. I’m off to order the other three in the series now, but promise to enjoy them in an upstairs room with a solid door.