Reviewed by: Jonathan Rayner
Author: Martin Edwards
Publisher: Allison & Busby
ISBN: 13: 978-0-7490-0879-6
Price: £7.99

The novel, by a partner at national law firm Weightmans, begins with a gruesome murder and ends with a suicide pact, the tension tightening like a bowstring in between.

The author lays the building blocks of the plot with unobtrusive skill in the novel’s opening pages. Why tell us about one character’s fear of dogs?

All will become clear.

A murder victim was afraid of water – so what? Patience: you’ll find out in good time.

But we are racing ahead. Martin Edwards’ The Serpent Pool is the latest in his series of thrillers set in the English Lake District.

The heroine is Detective Chief Inspector Hannah Scarlett, who heads up the local police unit charged with investigating ‘cold’ cases – unsolved cases that may be years old.

Her love partner is Marc Amos, who may know more than he is telling about at least two murders.

But then, as one of Scarlett’s team remarks, the Lake District is an ‘incestuous’ place where – the tourists apart – everybody knows and ‘shags’ everybody else.

Seemingly separate storylines intertwine as Scarlett’s investigation edges towards a denouement.

The corpse of a claustrophobe is found down a disused well shaft. He had been put in there while still alive, a nightmare way for such a man to go. Where does the sexy temptress fit into the plot and is there to be a final murder victim?

It’s a race against time and too close and personal for Scarlett’s comfort.

The characterisation can be toe-curlingly proficient. Check out the ‘simian’ Nathan Clare, who resembles an ’ill-tempered gorilla’ and assassinates his own character every time he opens his mouth to speak.

He is arrogant, supremely selfish and utterly devoid of self-knowledge.

You want to reach into the pages of the book and punch him in the teeth, or perhaps hold him while Scarlett succumbs to the ‘urge to slap his face (that) was almost impossible to resist’.

There are also false plot leads to keep you guessing, ones which will lose their power to beguile if I describe them here.

Mischievously, the author also treats us to the occasional lawyer jibe. Scarlett and Amos are talking about Stuart Wagg, a wealthy lawyer who is also a book collector.

Wagg is keen to get his hands on a particularly rare volume. Amos says: ‘He’d trade his granny if he could get that book.’

‘So he’s a true lawyer,’ Hannah (Scarlett) murmured. ‘Caring and unselfish.’

We can excuse Edwards that jibe because this novel is so very readable.

All humanity is between its covers: love, lust, jealousy, pride, greed, ambition, self-delusion.

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