The Suffering of Strangers
(2017 UK/2018 North America)
By Caro Ramsay
Black Thorn, 257
pages.
★★
The problem with a series is that if you show up late, it's
hard to catch up. The Suffering of
Strangers is book nine of Scottish fiction writer Caro Ramsay's Costello
and Colin Anderson series. If you are addicted to Ms Ramsay's "tartan
noir"* detective novels, you will probably devour it with gusto. If not,
you'll probably share my judgment that it's more mess than mystery. My
late-to-the-table status notwithstanding, this is simply not a very well
written book.
In The Suffering of
Strangers we find that Freddie (a woman) Costello is now a Detective
Inspector (DI) and Colin Anderson a Detective Chief Inspector (DCI) who has
been promoted to the Cold Case Unit, which investigates unsolved cases. Each
will be drawn into a distressing incident in which 6-week old Sholto Chisholm
has gone missing in an unusual way: when his mother Roberta ducked into a store
for just a moment, Sholto** was gone but a Down syndrome baby sits in his place
in a nearly identical car seat.
Costello is reluctant to get involved as she's still licking
her wounds from botching a previous case–presumably described in book eight of
the series. She's also angrier than usual as Archie Walker–her superior and
covert lover–seems to be cavorting with a younger woman. Anderson, however,
sees similarities between Sholto's switcheroo and other missing child cases.
Even worse, as the investigation unfolds, several women go missing in ways that
suggest the pattern of a serial rapist whose unsolved crimes gback at least 20
years and ravaged Colin's university flame, Sally Logan.
This novel is overpopulated with characters. Again, I
presume that much of the detective force has been introduced in earlier novels,
but be wary of reviews that say this book works as a standalone novel. It does
not. I had to make lists of characters and relationships to keep them straight.
This is problematic on several levels. First, my list was much longer than it
needed be. Ramsay drops names in ways that give a new reader few clues as to
whether the character in question is relevant, or just police station
wallpaper. The same is true of past and pending cases mentioned. Second, Ramsay
complicates matters by introducing new characters whose relationships to the
story are murky. There is, for instance, a child support services caseworker
named Deliana Despande. "Dali" ticks some boxes in that she's of
Southeast Asian descent, non-white, and obese, but none of these portrayals are
flattering. She seems to be in the novel to bond with DI Costello, whom most of
her colleagues find cold and domineering. In truth, Dali doesn't need to be in
such an already overstuffed book.
Colin is tasked with reconnecting with Sally and her
now-husband Andrew Braithwaite, who was also one of Colin's university friends.
This is also awkward because Colin hasn't seen either of them in many years; he
is married with two children, but still carries a romanticized torch for Sally.
At this juncture, the novel begins to unravel. In a short spate of time we hear
of several woman who have disappeared, including one who vanishes just out of
sight of the now ubiquitous CCTV security cameras and a drone. Toss in a young
caseworker who screwed up when one of the missing women crawled out a bathroom
window, a subplot involving Walker's goddaughter, several detectives who may or
may not be withholding investigative details in hope of an advancement scoop, a
legend of an underground city, some stumbling around in a subterranean car
park, a yoga studio, a baby-selling network, a rooftop, and some high-powered
water jets.
Ramsay brings all of this to a conclusion through
logic-defying subterfuge. If that's not enough–and believe me, it is–Ramsay tacks
on a cloudburst of coincidences that revolve around Anderson. This book has
more contrivances than a Rube Goldberg machine. If only it had Goldberg's
humor, his sense of irony, and his devotion to making his contraptions do just
one thing.
Rob Weir
*American crime writer James Ellroy coined this wonderful
term.
** This name sounds odd to North American ears, but not those
in Scotland. It was the first name of the 8th century chieftain who
sired the Douglas clan. It comes from a Gaelic word that means fruitful.