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The newspapers call them the Savages: a band of home invaders as merciless as they are stealthy. Usually they don't leave a clue—but this time, they've left a body. The first victim is found sprawled on her kitchen floor, blood soaking the terracotta tiles. Before long, another corpse is discovered, dead of fright. As the toll rises, it's up to DC Ben Cooper and DS Diane Fry to...
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The newspapers call them the Savages: a band of home invaders as merciless as they are stealthy. Usually they don't leave a clue—but this time, they've left a body. The first victim is found sprawled on her kitchen floor, blood soaking the terracotta tiles. Before long, another corpse is discovered, dead of fright. As the toll rises, it's up to DC Ben Cooper and DS Diane Fry to track down the killers. But the enemy isn't who they think it is. Beneath the sinister shadow of the mountain ridge called the Devil's Edge, a twisted game is in play, a game more ruthless than the detectives can imagine. Packed with nerve-jangling suspense and moody atmosphere, this is a thriller to rival the very best of Peter Robinson and Peter James.
"A sharp and engaging mystery. . . . Booth is slowly building a reputation as one of Britain's best mystery writers." —Booklist on The Dead Place
"Elizabeth George fans will queue up for this one." —Kirkus Reviews on One Last Breath
"Mix Stephen King paranoia with Charlotte Bronte wildness of atmosphere and character, and you get a whiff of what Booth concocts." —Booklist on Blind to the Bones
"Accomplished...Besides rendering Cooper and Fry as fully realized characters, Booth makes even minor characters as distinct and sharp as the jagged rocks of the Riddings Edge." —Publishers Weekly
"Despite being the 11th book in this series, it is easy enough for a new reader to find their footing." — Examiner.com
Posted April 27, 2013
Posted October 7, 2012
Devil’s Edge is a fairly insular world, defined, geographically at least, by the cliff edges which surround it. This book is, in a similar way, equally circumscribed. As the reader is told on the opening page, “It was one of the drawbacks of living in the countryside. Too much of the outside world intruding. Too many things it was impossible to keep out.” In this novel, the outside world, and the aspects of it one would most like to keep out, intrudes in the worst way. On the eastern fringe of the Peak District, in the village of Riddings, in rural Derbyshire, there has been a rash of break-ins. The burglars have been dubbed The Savages by the press. The newest incidents escalate the anxiety when they suddenly turn deadly. The author speaks of the residents having sought sanctuary in the rural haven, noting, however, that “everyone had monsters in their lives.” Suspicion turns from looking for an outside group of burglars to someone from within the community, targeting the victims, for reasons far more personal.
Recently promoted D.S. Ben Cooper is assigned the investigation. He, particularly, believes it is not the work of The Savages, being much more meticulously planned and leaving no trace of the culprit[s].
D.S. Diane Fry, formerly with the West Midlands Police “in the days before she transferred to yokel land,” is brought back into the squad to take over the investigation after an almost unimaginable turn of events changes Ben Cooper’s life forever. Despite the past ambivalence of their relationship, where they were both vying for the same promotion, their usually well-concealed respect for each other is here on display.
The author’s descriptions bring the land to palpable life, e.g., “the distant rocky outcrops seemed to change shape. They slid slowly sideways, merged and divided, their outlines shifting from smooth to jagged to a distinctive silhouette. It was all the effect of altering angle and perspective. With each step, a transformation took place in the landscape, a gradual reveal like the slow drawing aside of a curtain. At a point halfway across the flats, a split rock he hadn’t noticed before came into view. As it emerged from behind a larger boulder, its two halves slowly parted and turned, like the hands of a clock creeping past noon.” Simply gorgeous. [The landscape, and the writing, that is.]
Posted October 7, 2012
No text was provided for this review.