After the tragic death of his wife Emma, UK/US attorney, Max Dempsey relocates with his young son, Luke, to Provence, where he is surrounded by fond memories of time spent with Emma among the amazing sights and smells of the Provencal terroire. Handsome and erudite, Max attracts considerable female attention, but he is haunted by his devastating loss. His disquiet only increases when a nighttime shot and a scream of agony rouses all the residents of their apartment complex. As the police investigate the brutal stabbing of rich property investor, Madam Borrell, it becomes clear that the residents can all alibi each other. But how did an outsider enter the building in the early morning hours without leaving a trace. Maxâs keen observation and deductive skills, draw him reluctantly into the investigation which, by chance, is headed by the local magistrate, Claire Lejeune, an old friend from law school. While Claire tries to rekindle an old romance between Max and his college girlfriend Samantha, it is Max who realises that Borrel is not what she seems, and many people had good reason to want her dead. The truth he uncovers will threaten his fragile sanctuary.
After the tragic death of his wife Emma, UK/US attorney, Max Dempsey relocates with his young son, Luke, to Provence, where he is surrounded by fond memories of time spent with Emma among the amazing sights and smells of the Provencal terroire. Handsome and erudite, Max attracts considerable female attention, but he is haunted by his devastating loss. His disquiet only increases when a nighttime shot and a scream of agony rouses all the residents of their apartment complex. As the police investigate the brutal stabbing of rich property investor, Madam Borrell, it becomes clear that the residents can all alibi each other. But how did an outsider enter the building in the early morning hours without leaving a trace. Maxâs keen observation and deductive skills, draw him reluctantly into the investigation which, by chance, is headed by the local magistrate, Claire Lejeune, an old friend from law school. While Claire tries to rekindle an old romance between Max and his college girlfriend Samantha, it is Max who realises that Borrel is not what she seems, and many people had good reason to want her dead. The truth he uncovers will threaten his fragile sanctuary.
Mdm. Maxine Borrel entered her apartment and kicked the heavy door closed behind her. She threw her tennis bag down in the corner and snapped the deadbolt into place. She wasnât an attractive woman. Middle-aged with a severe, blocky face above a stocky torso and a large bosom that strained the white sleeveless tennis top, she had muscular, mannish arms with a dark bush of hair in the armpits. She strode to the bedroom, stripped and took a quick shower. As she toweled her short-cropped auburn hair dry she thought that, overall, it had been a satisfying dayâtaxing, but enjoyable and productive Perhaps she shouldnât have gone back to the office, but there had been things to do before tomorrow. She went out onto the patio and lit a Gauloises while she gazed into the darkness, going over in her mind the follow-up. Yes, it was time to call in the chit that had recently come into her possession. Who would have thought? And such a powerful man, soon to be a powerful ally. Then there were the brothers who were late with their payment. Her smile twisted as she contemplated her prize. She almost wished she had summoned that little Arab shit to the Cassis apartment. She could do with some release, but it had been late, tennis had been tiring. It was time to go to bed.
She stubbed out her cigarette and headed for the bedroom, not bothering to shut the patio door. There was a pleasant breeze bringing the scent of the Provençal terroir into the apartment. She slipped into bed and was drifting off when she started. She cocked her head briefly and then shook it. Probably a noise from outside coming through the open patio door. She plumped the pillow and froze. There it was again. Just a whisper of something, but in a prior life Maxine Borrel had become attuned to the sounds of stealth. She eased out of bed, opened the drawer in her nightstand and withdrew a large, clumsy-looking pistol. Then she crept silently to her bedroom door and listened. Nothing now. Perhaps it had been the wind in the drapes. Cautiously she edged out into the living room. Immediately something heavy chopped down on her wrist and the gun clattered to the floor where it exploded, the shot deafening in the close confines. Then she was thrust violently against the wall with a knife at her throat. She couldnât make out her assailant in the dark, but they were strong and Maxine Borrel could feel rage emanating from them. She was suddenly terrified. Could this be the Russians? She never thought they would go this far.
Long moments passed as they stood silently poised in a savage encounter. It was as if the attacker was waiting for something. Maxine Borrell felt her knees giving way. She made a sudden lunge to free herself, but this person was stronger. The knife sliced into her neck just a little and she gave a whimper and stopped struggling.
âWho are you? What do you want?â she whispered.
The reply sounded as though forced out through clenched teeth. âYou donât know who I am, but I know you.â
âLook, donât hurt me.â Maxine Borrel could barely croak it out. She took several panicked breaths. âDid the Russians send you? I will do what they want. I have money.â
Was that a guttural laugh?
Then her assailant leaned in close and whispered in her ear. Maxine Borrelâs jaw went slack and her eyes widened in horror.
She gasped out, âPlease, it wasnât me. I had no control... There were others. Please. Iâm begging you.â
When the knife eased away from her neck, she breathed a half sigh of relief. Then the blade entered her abdomen and was ripped violently upward. The pain was obscene. Her tortured scream pierced the night and she dropped into the puddle of her own blood that was already pooling on the floor. She tried feebly to cup her hands to her stomach in a vain attempt to staunch the bleeding, staring numbly down at the bloody gash in her silk pajamas. As her mind strained to grasp what had happened, and why, she vaguely registered her attacker go to the open patio doors and, standing in the shadows, look out. A babble of voices welled up outside. She tried to call for help, but she had no voice. Just a gurgling sensation in her throat. Her hands fell away limply. Things were getting dimmer. She was panting in short sharp breaths as the agony expanded inside her. In the long moments before she died, when the disbelief had receded, she had the time, but not the remorse, for deepest regret.
I really enjoyed Graeme Chambers' murder mystery book from start to finish. We follow Max Dempsey who has moved to Provence, France with his teenage son, Luke for two reasons: the first because he loves the place and it holds warm memories for him; the second because he is escaping another life, one where he lost his wife and Luke's mother in a tragic accident and he is hoping that a new setting and a completely different lifestyle will help both him and Luke to heal.
However, when a gunshot and a scream in the night shatters the peace, Max finds himself wondering if coming to Provence was the best decision. The aim was find a life that was lighter and instead, he has taken Luke from his remaining family to an unknown place where death has followed and presented itself to them once again, this time in the murder of a neighbour.
Max finds himself becoming embroiled in the investigation through things that he discovers as well as connections he has at the justice department and we, as readers, follow him as he tries to find out who could have killed Madame Borrell?
Telling the story in the third person allows us to eavesdrop on other characters than Max and so, we shadow the detectives and judge who are investigating, namely Jacques, Arielle, Dupre and Claire and learn things about their lives in the same way that we do Max's. I liked this as it made all of the characters feel well-rounded and I could visualise them clearly from Chambers' descriptions and what he tells us about their hopes and fears and ambitions.
Chambers also presents through Max and Luke a strong father-son relationship reforming after the death of Emma, Max's wife and Luke's mother. Chambers is sensitive to the grief that surrounds them and also the tentative way in which they are having to move forward into a new dynamic thrust upon them by a tragic loss.
But it is the solving of the murder that drives the book's action and it rolls along at a fair old pace as clues are uncovered and motives emerge. There is nothing too heavy here: it's just good storytelling, well-plotted and conceived, delivered with fluidity and an instinctive awareness of where tension is needed, or a little romance, or reflection, or humour, combining them all to make a good read.