Author: Andres Kabel

Of course we were pining for our next hit of Jackson Lamb ruling over his band of misfits at Slough House, but no, “The Secret Hours” is billed as a standalone spy thriller. That is not exactly true, even though The Secret Hours does not mention the Slow Horses, for this novel is a hefty (nearly 400 pages) “origins of” backstory, dressed up within a startlingly up-to-date internal investigation by the secret service. After an opening action scene that is the most pulse-pounding bravura stretch of writing I have read for years, the novel devolves into a wishy-washy inquiry run by two hapless desk jockeys, saturated with the author’s trademark wisecrack, cynical take on the modern world, into which explodes ancient spy tales from 1994 Berlin (Berlin being, of course, the heart of all spy thrillers, ever since the advent of George Smiley). Herron’s plotting is as devious and brilliant as any he has deployed and the spook atmospherics are superb. From the start, I sensed a deep homage to some of John Le Carre’s classics, the ones where innocents and not-so-innocents intertwine into a tapestry of grand beauty, horror, and yes, love. All of the above words add up to a verdict that surprised when it dawned on me: The Secret Hours is Mick Herron’s masterpiece, a grand drama written so well it will survive the eons. It is a compulsory read but, I regret to say, one that should properly follow the eight Slough House novels (and please, don’t omit the four interposing novellas!). Grace yourself with those books and The Secret Hours, and you too shall be redeemed.

I have come late to British crime writer Tim Sullivan’s series featuring Detective Sergeant George Cross, a dogged homicide detective diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder. His fifth, The Monk, sees Cross tackling the savage murder of a seemingly charismatic monk. Befitting his personality, Cross patiently assembles a twisted skein of clues from the past, ably assisted by his fellow sergeant (who at one point wonders if she is the Watson to a Holmes). The plot is deliciously complex and patient, and Cross is a different, sympathetic protagonist with his own personal issues. I enjoyed the overnight read even though the author does overly belabour Cross’s autistic aspects.

An accomplished spy thriller, with a time-honored plotline, Moscow X makes for a splendid weekend of reading. The second complex, realistic outing by David McCloskey, it kicks off with a propulsive scene in an eastern European jail and then ricochets between Putin’s Moscow, London, and Texas. Three main characters drive the action: the wife of a Moscow bank executive and racehorse owner; a lawyer working for a London firm laundering dirty money; and a racehorse breeder. A battle between two antagonistic henchmen of Putin catalyzes the Moscow woman to intersect with the other two, tasked with running a covert operation deep within Russia. Double crosses lead to triple crosses, the action ratchets up with high tension, and the plot twists, twists, and twists. The author provides great verisimilitude concerning modern espionage and money shenanigans. Very much a plot-driven novel, the three main characters nonetheless acquire solidity and gravitas. The author is a robust stylist. All of these elements combine in Moscow X for a satisfying, classical espionage diversion.

The thriller genre is a crowded one and there are always “best seller” authors in it pumping out seemingly “thrilling” books. Unless you specialise exclusively in the genre, you are never going to stay fully on top of it. I had noticed Ruth Ware for a few years but until now had not tackled any of her seven thrillers, until I blitzed Zero Days in two evenings. The title refers to a nefarious “exploit” that hackers use to take over remote computers and systems, and the plot is straight out of Robert Ludlum’s playbook: when Gabe’s husband and fellow “computer security penetration consultant” is killed, with Gabe the inevitable suspect, she goes on the run and, using her “white knight” hacking skills, desperately seeks answers. Propulsive and artfully plotted, with well delineated characters, Zero Days is a top-notch thriller. If the style, a breathless “in the character’s head” one, weighed me down a tad, that was a reflection of my druthers, and you may well appreciate every page. Recommended.

Written by an ardent journalist pursuing a topic out of love, A Tale of Two Cranes: Lessons Learned from 50 Years of the Endangered Species Act is just the type of book we need, a readable, story-telling exposition unfolding academic research. For many, the topic of the relative success rates of conservation efforts in different countries applied to two similar, highly threatened bird species might hold little intrinsic interest, but there are general threads here, to do with how best we can bend the current looming mass extinction of species towards something sustainable. The storyline is actually very engaging: in southern America, the resplendent Whooping Crane species was on its last legs after World War II, as was the similarly beautiful Red-crowned Crane (until now I had not realized how matching they are in appearance!) in northern Japan. Conservation efforts in the United States fell under the landmark 1973 Endangered Species Act (which the author analyzes with fine detail), while in Japan, individuals led the charge. Both species are now out of the worst danger zone, while still under the hammer, but, the author wonders, which approach worked best? Can we learn from this? Nathanial Gronewold is a super enthusiastic chronicler, so keen to ensure we understand complex material that he is often discursive and repetitive, and he writes in a fluid, conversational manner. Overall, A Tale of Two Cranes is a welcome addition to the recent flood of climate change/conservation reading for the ordinary citizen, and if the topic twitches your antennae, I can recommend it.