Strange Affair (Inspector Alan Banks Series #15)

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Overview

A bullet to the brain abruptly halted a terrified young woman's desperate flight. In her pocket is the name of a policeman whose own life was brutally invaded, mercilessly shaken, and very nearly erased — a policeman who has since gone missing.


The dead woman in the car had been running from something — but she didn't run far or fast enough. Detective Inspector Annie Cabbot would like to question the man the victim was apparently racing to meet: Annie's superior — and former lover — Detective Chief Inspector Alan Banks. But Banks has vanished into the anonymous chaos of the city, drawn into a mad whirl of greed, inhumanity, and death, by a frantic phone call from the brother he no longer knows. Banks is unaware that the threads connecting a sinister kidnapping with a savage slaying are as thick as rope . . . and long enough for a haunted and broken rogue cop to hang himself.

Editorial Reviews

From Barnes & Noble
The Barnes & Noble Review
Edgar and Anthony Award-winning author Peter Robinson's fourth book is a gritty tale of brothers at odds and a story of unexpected connections. Alan and Roy Banks were never close. Alan was a normal teenager with a chaotic room and appalling taste in music. Roy was compulsively neat and kept a lock on his toy box. Alan went on to become Detective Chief Inspector Banks, with a solid, if not always shining, police career. And Roy, estranged from his brother, became a wealthy entrepreneur. Then Roy disappears, and Alan's search for him soon confirms his long-held suspicion that Roy has been operating on the shady side of the law. When a murdered woman is found in possession of a piece of paper with Alan's name scrawled on it, Alan must dig deeper into his brother's shadow life. The discovery of the dead woman's connection to a doctor who treated prostitutes off the books as a "public service" gives credence to Alan's fears. Bit by bit, Alan's investigation reveals the sickening evidence of Roy's involvement in kidnapping and prostitution. But recently, something must have changed. The Roy he's unwillingly come to know wouldn't have given up his ill-gotten gains lightly or easily. As Alan begins to wonder whether his brother finally got mixed up in a crime so terrible that even he had objected, it gradually becomes clear that Alan himself is in deep trouble. He's already learned enough to become a target for whoever had the ruthlessness and power to make his black-sheep brother disappear. Sue Stone
Baltimore Sun
“A damn fine crime novel...like a master class in crime fiction.”
Booklist (starred review)
“Robinson has won just about every mystery award there is….His latest shows why.”
Boston Globe
Peter Robinson is:“A gifted creator of fully fleshed and vividly present characters.”
Florida Sun-Sentinel
“Robinson shows he’s a master ... mixes a gritty plot with intense character studies....Consistently compelling.”
Globe and Mail (Toronto)
“Remarkable.”
Houston Chronicle
“A skillful writer…”
Los Angeles Times Book Review
“Exquisitely complex and atmospheric.”
Miami Herald
“If you haven’t read Robinson .... what on Earth is stopping you? .... A clever and entertaining thriller.”
Orlando Sentinel
“Absorbing…Robinson continues to stretch the boundaries of the standard procedural.”
Raleigh News & Observer
“A fast-moving story [with] some knockout scenery and an assemblage of delicately drawn characters.”
Richmond Times-Dispatch
“Fascinating....Robinson, with his usual deft touch and unblinking eye, brings the story to an unexpectedly gut-wrenching conclusion.”
San Diego Union-Tribune
“Splendid.”
St. Louis Post-Dispatch
“The equal of legends in the genre such as P.D. James and Ruth Rendell.”
Sunday Telegraph
“Different and intriguing.”
Sunday Times (London)
“Complex and intelligent.”
Tampa Tribune
“Flawless plotting and superbly drawn characters….[Robinson] is a master craftsman.”
The Independent (London)
“Cunning…authentic and atmospheric.”
The Strand
“Psychologically acute fiction.”
Time Out London
“Taut, carefully thought out…with plots that are refreshingly cliché-free.”
Winnipeg Sun
“The best Banks book in years.”
Janet Maslin
"Definitely not your everyday quaffing plonk," Mr. Robinson writes descriptively in Strange Affair, abiding by two strict rules of this genre: mention snacks and beverages as often as possible, and don't stint on the colorful lingo. But the small stuff is deftly fused with an engrossing crime story, which also includes the murder of an unknown woman traveling along a highway. Mr. Robinson stocks the book with chapter-ending cliffhangers, among other good reasons to follow his well-crafted story. His finishing stroke of evil is a startling one, even by these books' standards of deviant behavior.
— The New York Times
Patrick Anderson
Banks admits that he had assumed that prostitutes were in the business by choice, but the Interpol man shows him that is often not the case. In exploring the issue of sexual slavery, Robinson joins other crime writers, and many journalists, in casting a light on dark corners of our society. John Lescroart's The Motive, reviewed here recently, took a hard look at another urgent issue, prosecutorial misconduct, as have numerous lawyers who have turned to fiction. It is heartening to see first-rate writers like Robinson and Lescroart becoming, in effect, muckrakers, for ours is a world with an inexhaustible supply of muck that needs raking.
— The Washington Post
Publishers Weekly
In his last outing (Playing With Fire), Insp. Alan Banks nearly died when a serial killer set fire to his cottage in the Yorkshire village of Eastvale, and the melancholic detective remains understandably depressed as this superlative 15th novel in the series gets underway. Living in a rented flat, Banks is struggling to put his life back together when an urgent phone message from his younger brother, Roy-a successful, slightly shady London businessman-requests his help: "It could be a matter of life and death.... Maybe even mine." When he can't reach Roy by phone, Banks travels to London to see what's wrong and finds his brother's house unlocked and no hint about where he might have gone or why. On the night of Roy's phone call, a young woman is shot to death in her car just outside of Eastvale, and she has Banks's name and address in her pocket. Annie Cabbot, Banks's colleague on the force (and a former lover), is in charge of that case, and her investigation quickly intersects with Banks's unofficial sleuthing into his brother's inexplicable disappearance. The gripping story, which revolves around that most heinous of crimes, human trafficking, shows Robinson getting more adept at juggling complex plot lines while retaining his excellent skills at characterization. The result is deeply absorbing, and the nuances of Banks's character are increasingly compelling. Agent, Dominick Abel. (Feb. 15) Forecast: Robinson's reputation in the States (he is English and lives in Canada) continues to build. With the help of a big marketing campaign and an eight-city author tour, this could be a breakout novel for him. Copyright 2005 Reed Business Information.
Library Journal
Detective Chief Inspector Alan Banks is still recovering from a fire that almost took his life (in Playing With Fire) when his estranged brother Roy leaves a message on his machine pleading for his help. When he cannot reach Roy, Alan travels to London and finds his brother's house unlocked and Roy nowhere to be found. Meanwhile back in Eastvale, a woman has been found, shot to death execution-style. In her back pocket is Banks's address, leaving Detective Inspector Annie Cabot to try to figure out who the girl is and where Alan has disappeared to. When the two finally meet up in London, they must work through their personal differences before they can resolve the two crimes. After a break with a standalone novel (The First Cut), Robinson returns to a police procedural series that just keeps getting better. Recommended for all mystery collections. Robinson lives in Toronto. [See Prepub Mystery, LJ 10/1/04.]-Deborah Shippy, Moline P.L., IL Copyright 2005 Reed Business Information.
Kirkus Reviews
A late-night call from a brother who's practically a stranger sends Alan Banks back to another round of soul-searching and skeleton-rattling. Chief Inspector Banks misses the call because following the loss of his cottage to an arsonist (Playing with Fire, 2004), he's out drinking and extending a dinner invitation that's shot down. The message he gets instead from his dodgy brother Roy is both urgent and vague: You're the only one who can help me in what could be a matter of life or death, so call me. When Roy doesn't answer his phone, Banks decides to use his vacation to track him down. He breaks into Roy's posh home in Kensington, rifles his papers, and searches his computer as if Roy were a particularly vicious criminal, but gets nowhere. Meanwhile, Banks's colleagues back in North Yorkshire Major Crimes have their own case: the shooting of Jennifer Clewes, administrative director at a women's health center who was carrying Banks's address in her pocket. Clearly the two riddles are connected, but fans of Robinson's acclaimed series won't expect any special ingenuity in linking them up. A keener disappointment is the absence of any new characters as interesting as Banks and his squad, whose ever-changing relationships provide not only the usual sharp vignettes but much of the momentum you'd expect from the mystery. Below Robinson's high average, then, though he's always worth reading. Mystery Guild featured alternate selection; author tour. Agent: Dominick Abel/Dominick Abel Associates

Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780060544348
  • Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
  • Publication date: 5/30/2006
  • Format: Mass Market Paperback
  • Edition description: Reprint
  • Pages: 416
  • Sales rank: 274,400
  • Series: Inspector Alan Banks Series, #15
  • Product dimensions: 4.18 (w) x 6.75 (h) x 1.04 (d)

Meet the Author

Peter Robinson's award-winning novels have been named a Best Book of the Year by Publishers Weekly, a Notable Book by the New York Times, and a Page-Turner of the Week by People magazine. Robinson was born and raised in Yorkshire but has lived in North America for more than twenty-five years. He now divides his time between North America and the U.K.

Read an Excerpt

Was she being followed? It was hard to tell at that time of night on the motorway. There was plenty of traffic, lorries for the most part, and people driving home from the pub just a little too carefully, red BMWs coasting up the fast lane, doing a hundred or more, businessmen in a hurry to get home from late meetings. She was beyond Newport Pagnell now, and the muggy night air blurred the red tail lights of the cars ahead and the oncoming headlights across the road. She began to feel nervous as she checked her rear-­view mirror and saw that the car was still behind her.

She pulled over to the outside lane and slowed down. The car, a dark Mondeo, overtook her. It was too dark to glimpse faces, but she thought there was just one person in the front and another in the back. It ­didn’t have a taxi light on top, so she guessed it was probably a private hire-car and stopped worrying. Some rich git being ferried to a nightclub in Leeds, most likely. She overtook the Mondeo a little further up the motorway and ­didn’t give it a second glance. The late-night radio was playing Old Blue Eyes singing “Summer Wind.” Her kind of music, no matter how old-fashioned people told her it was. Talent and good music never went out of style as far as she was concerned.

When she got to Watford Gap services, she realized she felt tired and hungry, and she still had a long way to go, so she decided to stop for a short break. She ­didn’t even notice the Mondeo pull in two cars behind her. A few seedy-­looking people hung around the entrance; a couple of kids who ­didn’t look old enough to drive stood smoking and playing the machines, giving her the eye as she walked past, staring at her breasts.

She went first to the ladies’, then to the café, where she bought a ham and tomato sandwich and sat alone to eat, washing it down with a Diet Coke. At the table opposite, a man with a long face and dandruff on the collar of his dark suit jacket ogled her over the top of his glasses, pretending to read his newspaper and eat a sausage roll.

Was he just a common or garden-­variety perv, or was there something more sinister in his interest? she wondered. In the end, she decided he was just a perv. Sometimes it seemed as if the world were full of them, that she could hardly walk down the street or go for a drink on her own without some sad pillock who thought he was God’s gift eyeing her up, like the kids hanging around the entrance, or coming over and laying a line of chat on her. Still, she told herself, what else could you expect at this time of night in a motorway service station? A couple of other men came in and went to the counter for coffee-­to-­go, but they ­didn’t give her a second glance.

She finished half the sandwich, dumped the rest and got her travel mug filled with coffee. When she walked back to her car she made sure that there were people around — a family with two young kids up way past their bedtime, noisy and hyperactive — and that no one was following her.

The tank was only a quarter full, so she filled it up at the petrol station, using her credit card right there, at the pump. The perv from the café pulled up at the pump opposite and stared at her as he put the nozzle in the tank. She ignored him. She could see the night manager in his office, watching through the window, and that made her feel more secure.

Tank full, she turned down the slip-­road and eased in between two articulated lorries. It was hot in the car, so she opened both windows and enjoyed the play of breeze they created. It helped keep her awake, along with the hot black coffee. The clock on the dashboard read 12:35 a.m. Only about two or three hours to go, then she would be safe.

Penny Cartwright was singing Richard Thompson’s “Strange Affair” when Banks walked into the Dog and Gun, her low, husky voice milking the song’s stark melancholy for all it was worth. Banks stood by the door, transfixed. Penny Cartwright. He ­hadn’t seen her in over ten years, though he had thought of her often, even seen her name in Mojo and Uncut from time to time. The years had been kind. Her figure still looked good in blue jeans and a tight white T-­shirt tucked in at the waist. The long, raven’s-­wing hair he remembered looked just as glossy as ever in the stage lights, and the few threads of grey here and there made her look even more attractive. She seemed a little more gaunt than before, a little more sad around the eyes, perhaps, but it suited her, and Banks liked the contrast between her pale skin and dark hair.

When the song ended, Banks took advantage of the applause to walk over to the bar, order a pint and light a cigarette. He ­wasn’t happy with himself for having started smoking again after six months or more on the wagon, but there it was. He tried to avoid smoking in the flat, and he would stop again as soon as he’d got himself back together. For the moment, it was a crutch, an old friend come back to visit during a time of need.

There ­wasn’t a seat left in the entire lounge. Banks could feel the sweat prickling on his temples and at the back of his neck. He leaned against the bar and let Penny’s voice transport him as she launched into “Blackwater Side.” She had two accompanists, one on guitar and the other on stand-­up bass, and they wove a dense tapestry of sound against which her lyric lines soared.

The next round of applause marked the end of the set, and Penny walked through the crowd, which parted like the Red Sea for her, smiling and nodding hello as she went, and stood next to Banks at the bar. She lit a cigarette, inhaled, made a circle of her mouth and blew out a smoke ring towards the optics.

From the Hardcover edition.

Table of Contents

First Chapter

Strange Affair
A Novel of Suspense

Chapter One

Was she being followed? It was hard to tell at that time of night on the motorway. There was plenty of traffic, lorries for the most part, and people driving home from the pub just a little too carefully, red BMWs coasting up the fast lane, doing a hundred or more, businessmen in a hurry to get home from late meetings. She was beyond Newport Pagnell now, and the muggy night air blurred the red tail lights of the cars ahead and the oncoming headlights across the road. She began to feel nervous as she checked her rear-view mirror and saw that the car was still behind her.

She pulled over to the outside lane and slowed down. The car, a dark Mondeo, overtook her. It was too dark to glimpse faces, but she thought there was just one person in the front and another in the back. It didn't have a taxi light on top, so she guessed it was probably a private hire car and stopped worrying. Some rich git being ferried to a nightclub in Leeds, most likely.

She overtook the Mondeo a little further up the motorway and didn't give it a second glance. The late night radio was playing Old Blue Eyes singing "Summer Wind". Her kind of music, no matter how old fashioned people told her it was. Talent and good music never went out of style as far as she was concerned.

When she got to Watford Gap services, she realized she felt tired and hungry, and she still had a long way to go, so she decided to stop for a short break. She didn't even notice the Mondeo pull in two cars behind her.

A few seedy looking people hung around the entrance; a couple of kids who didn't look old enough to drive stood smoking and playing the machines, giving her the eye as she walked past, staring at her breasts.

She went first to the ladies, then to the cafe, where she bought a ham and tomato sandwich and sat alone to eat, washing it down with a Diet Coke. At the table opposite, a man with a long face and dandruff on the collar of his dark suit jacket gave her the eye over the top of his glasses, pretending to read his newspaper and eat a sausage roll.

Was he just a common-or-garden variety perv, or was there something more sinister in his interest? she wondered. In the end, she decided he was just a perv. Sometimes it seemed as if the world was full of them, that she could hardly walk down the street or go for a drink on her own without some sad pillock who thought he was God's gift eyeing her up, like the kids hanging around the entrance, or coming over and laying a line of chat on her. Still, she told herself, what else could you expect at this time of the night in a motorway service station? A couple of other men came in and went to the counter for coffee-to-go, but they didn't give her a second glance.

She finished half the sandwich, dumped the rest and got her travel mug filled with coffee. When she walked back to her car she made sure that there were people around -- a family with two young kids up way up past their bedtime, noisy and hyperactive -- and that no-one was following her.

The tank was only a quarter full, so she filled it up at the petrol station, using her credit card right there, at the pump. The perv from the cafe pulled up at the pump opposite and stared at her as he put the nozzle in the tank. She ignored him. She could see the night manager in his office, watching through the window, and that made her feel more secure.

Tank full, she turned down the slip road and eased in between two articulated lorries. It was hot in the car, so she opened both windows and enjoyed the play of breeze they created. It helped keep her awake, along with the hot black coffee. The clock on the dashboard read 12:35 am. Only about two or three hours to go, then she would safe ...

Strange Affair
A Novel of Suspense
. Copyright © by Peter Robinson. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.

Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4.5
( 8 )

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Sort by: Showing all of 8 Customer Reviews
  • Anonymous

    Posted February 24, 2005

    Alan Banks mystery series

    Set in Yorkshire and London, England. Detective Chief Inspector Alan Banks is still recuperating from the fire in the last novel. He is dealing with some deep depression issues as well. His brother, Roy, calls from London asking for Alan's help. Even though the brothers are not close, blood is thicker than water. So Alan returns Roy's call. After several attempts, in vain, to reach Roy, Alan travels to London and begins to search for his elusive brother. ............................................ DI Annie Cabbott is investigating the murder of Jennifer Clewes. The lady was found sitting in her car with a bullet in her head. On the body is a piece of paper with DCI Alan Banks's contact information. A link is found between Alan, Roy, and Jennifer. Chaos reins supreme. .................................................................... ...................... **** Unlike most of this series, not nearly enough investigating was done for my taste. The author DID give the readers information to whet their appetites, but he deals more with each character's backgrounds, personalities, and putting in some much needed bits of romance. Fans of Patricia Cornwell should take notice of this author's series. ****

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 23, 2005

    PREMIER PERFORMANCE - BOTH WRITTEN AND READ

    Seems to me that a voice performer would stand in line to read a novel by award-winning author Peter Robinson. On the other hand, it also seems to me that authors would stand in line to have their work performed by Simon Prebble. Both experienced and thoroughly professional, Prebble has read books by everyone from Danielle Steele to Stephen Hawking. Whatever work he's delivering, he does so with perfect enunciation and thorough understanding. His voice performance of 'Strange Affair' ranks with the very best. English born and bred, Mr. Robinson has created an unforgettable character in Inspector Alan Banks. Many will remember that during our last meeting Banks almost lost his life in a fire that leveled his home. Now, we find him in the process of recovering from his loss. Not much time for that as he receives a call for help from his younger brother, Roy. The black sheep of the family, Roy has nonetheless been a financial success and lives in London. Perhaps we should say lived as when Banks tries to recontact Roy, there's no answer. It takes no time at all for Banks to go to his brother's house only to find it unlocked and empty. What he does find are a few hints to the life his brother has been leading. In a parallel plot a young woman is murdered in her car. When Detective Annie Cabbot arrives at the scene she finds a piece of paper in the dead woman's pocket - on it is the name of Alan Banks. Leave it to the ever resourceful Robinson to seamlessly blend this murder and the disappearance of Roy in a story that will leave listeners first intrigued and then totally surprised. A premier listen!

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  • Posted December 9, 2008

    more from this reviewer

    Excellent English police procedural

    Detective Chief Inspector Alan Banks of Eastvale, North Yorkshire is recuperating after he almost lost his life in a home fire set by Detective Annie Cabbot¿s psychopathic boyfriend. He lost everything in the fire and while on medical leave falls in a deep depression. When his brother Roy calls, leaving a message on the answering machine, he asks him for his help, saying his life might be in danger. When Banks can¿t get him on the phone, he travels to London but Roy is nowhere to be found.--- In Eastvale, a woman is found dead in her car, a bullet in her head. In her pocket is the address of Alan¿s former home that is being rebuilt. Annie tries to find Banks but he didn¿t report to anyone where he was going. After fruitless searching, Roy¿s body is found in the river with a bullet in his head. Alan and Annie discover the murdered woman was Roy¿s girlfriend, a clear link between the two cases. Now they have to find out what Roy was afraid of and what he sent his girlfriend to tell Alan.--- The Alan Banks Police procedurals are some of the best mystery novels on the market today. STRANGE AFFAIR has so many twists and turns and false leads that readers find themselves so totally absorbed in the novel that they will finish it in one sitting just to find out who killed Roy and his girlfriend and why. Peter Robinson is the master of the English police procedural with tantalizing, exciting and totally believable works.--- Harriet Klausner

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