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Then around the 80% mark the story takes a sharp turn. I was expecting some of it — the foreshadowing of Lucy’s PTSD — but not all of it. There are more twists and turns through the last 20%, some I liked and some I didn’t like. But at the end, I was left with an uneasy feeling, because many of the killers escaped justice. In real life, this is often true, but most of us read thrillers because we want things to end right, the culprits caught, and justice to prevail. When an author doesn’t give us that satisfaction, we are left with a feeling of unease. Yes, MacBride throws us tidbits: not all the culprits escape; some are captured/killed. But some flourish. The Dead of Winter is a very complicated story that in the end is not so complicated if you think it through. It’s just that it’s full of twists and turns and red herrings. It’s also full of interesting characters, starting with DI Victoria Montgomery-Porter and DC Edward Reekie – on the good side. There are a lot – and I mean a LOT – of criminals in this book but the most important one is Mark Bishop and frankly… he’s as interesting as Victoria and Edward. Maybe even a little more interesting even. It’s been nearly 18 months since the Bloodsmith killed his first victim of five and a few months since the last one. The investigation entitled ‘Operation Maypole’ is getting nowhere fast in apprehending this callous killer and the press and police top brass are getting impatient for results. DI Tudor is now placed in charge and DS Lucy McVeigh is made part of the team. Lucy however, is very distracted as not only is she struggling with possible PTSD, she has a stalker and if that’s not enough Benedict Strachan, a recently released child killer is pleading for her help and protection. This is a difficult review to write. Throughout most of the story, I felt it was a five-star read, then came the ending, which disappointed me—it didn’t feel right—and so I lowered my internal rating system to four stars. Then waited a while to ensure I got it right. The storyline is as expertly plotted as I've come to expect from the MacBride books. As an author myself, I love deconstructing the plot lines and following the different strands through. As a reader, every twist and turn, every carefully placed piece of additional information, every morsel of information all come together to a satisfying, grab you by the throat, fast paced read.
I absolutely raced through The Dead Of Winter and i love love loved it! The writing style that Stuart MacBride has is unique in the crime fiction genre, others try to do something similar but no one can write like Stuart MacBride does. The aplomb, that he writes murder and gruesomeness in one sentence and then sarcastic humor in another is exceptional. Having myself, worked for the Police for 12 years in the 1990s, I’m well aware of the dark humor used in extreme situations to lift the pressure, Stuart writes that in such a realistic way it’s superb. I liked the idea for the community of ex-prisoners nestled in the Cairngorms but the plot became a bit far fetched for me and didn’t hold my interest. But, in the meantime, I had to get on with the day job and produce a proper full-length police thriller. One that didn’t include haunted funfairs, mummies, or anatomically impossible taxidermy. And still the question remained: what the hell was I going to do about the pandemic? This heralds the arrival of the aforementioned last 20% & THAT ending. There is nothing I can say without blabbing a potential spoiler so at this point, I'm walking away. You're on our own. Stay alert, keep hydrated, maybe strap on a helmet. My only comment is W...T...F...No Less the Devil is the examination of the case is pushed onto The Dunk and McVeigh, and they revisit each of the five crime scenes to try and look at it from a different perspective. Although they find new evidence, they are pulling at strings trying to find a connection between all five victims. Lucy is also preoccupied with the evolving problem that is Benedict Strachan. He has recently been released from prison after serving many years for the murder of a homeless man when he was eleven. He wants her help after professing that “they” are after him, is it just the ramblings of a deranged mind? And if anyone has the real Stuart McBride, please return him to his writing desk for his next book!
It sounds like paranoia, but what if he's right? What if he really is caught up in something bigger and darker than Lucy's ever dealt with before? What if the Bloodsmith isn't the only monster out there? And what's going to happen when Lucy goes after them? It’s perhaps unfair to compare this to the McRae series but unfortunately I became very bored with the story. The characters weren’t strong enough to drive the story and in some ways they felt like really diluted, much less funny, versions of McRae and Steel.It's been seventeen months since the Bloodsmith butchered his first victim and Operation Maypole is still no nearer to catching him. The media is whipping up a storm, the top brass are demanding results, but the investigation is sinking fast. I pushed through the story, but had it not been an advanced reader’s copy I’d have likely DNF’d it. The prologue was intriguing, and I was genuinely interested in seeing where the story would lead me. I am a complete aficionado when it comes to Scottish crime. I really enjoy reading about places I’ve seen and travelled to, that’s why I thought MacBride’s work would’ve been a good punt – I used to live in Aberdeen and I had my second child there, and although I cannot fault his picture setting of the location I just couldn’t find myself caring about the characters – something that is an absolute must for me to be able to enjoy a story. Lucy really isn’t in a great place herself right now, she’s clearly suffering from PTSD, and also has a stalker, and what with the extra pressure of Benedict Strachan, who pleads for her help, she’s definitely on a downward spiral.
There are a few plot twists, although I guessed who the murderer was very early in the tale. Other revelations were somewhat of a surprise, but were not completely startling. Most of the readability comes from the dilemmas that Reekie lands in. He is continually cold, miserable, and wet. (There are 285 references to “snow” in THE DEAD OF WINTER, 62 references to “cold”, and numerous mentions of related concepts such as “freezing”, “wet”, “shiver”, etc.)No Less the Devil is most definitely a tale of two parts. The first 80% is a taut, twisty detective novel with wit and sarcasm aplenty…the norm for a Stuart MacBride novel. The last 20% however, had me flummoxed. I uttered the words WTF a lot and found myself physically scratching my head. If this was the plot all along it felt incredibly rushed and didn’t make much sense. I can’t give much more away without big spoilers, trust me, you’ll just have to read it for yourself. He now lives in north-east Scotland with his wife, Fiona and their cat Grendel. He is reputed to be a passionate potato grower, but claims to have a "vegetable patch full of weeds". It goes without saying that there were many possible culprits and with hindsight I realised I should have guessed who the murderer was. In fact I was completely surprised. The ending is very exciting. However, at around 80%, someone captured Stuart McBride - probably aliens using posh umbrellas because they went to a top class school. One of the eleven year olds from the school, who had of course been brainwashed, was asked to finish the story in Stuart's absence, and so began the fantasy that was the final 20% of the book. Then came a spell of working for myself as a graphic designer, which went the way of all flesh and into the heady world of studio management for a nation-wide marketing company. Then some more freelance design work, a handful of voiceovers for local radio and video production companies and a bash at being an actor (with a small 'a'), giving it up when it became clear there was no way I was ever going to be good enough to earn a decent living.
I read THE DEAD OF WINTER in two days, but it has taken me four weeks to write a review. The problem was not the rating. I knew as soon as I’d finished that I would give it four stars. It wasn’t as good as his very best, but it was a solid four-star read. This is book 5 in the Oldcastle novels. I am always a bit dubious about joining a series when I haven't read the others but I was mostly put at ease. A claw-foot bath dominated one wall, topped by a mildewed shower-curtain. Crusts of dark-orange and brown limescale around the drain. Lid and seat up on the toilet, showing off a whole Formula-One- season of skid marks.” There you have it, the writing style of Stuart MacBride enriched with toilet humour, rude rather than crude remarks, a list of very colourful and dur Scottish characters hidden loosely under crime/noir. Now let me say from the start I have been reading this authors books from the early days of Cold Granite, the first Logan McCrea novel and have always found his style refreshing and indeed at times highly amusing (who could forget DCI Roberta Steel and her testing sense of humour most of it at the expense of Logan who she rather fondly called Laz :) For years I’ve been saying that crime writers reflect the fears of society. That’s why 1970s crime fiction is so different to 2000s, or 2010. It holds up a mirror to our collective psyche and asks, ‘What are you afraid of?’And so to UNIVERSITY, far too young, naive and stupid to be away from the family home, sharing a subterranean flat in one of the seedier bits of Edinburgh with a mad Irishman, and four other bizarre individuals. The highlight of walking to the art school in the mornings (yes: we were students, but we still did mornings) was trying not to tread in the fresh bloodstains outside our front door, and dodging the undercover CID officers trying to buy drugs. Lovely place. Only, what do you do when society is, quite rightly, really sodding concerned about a virus that’s officially killed four million of us (though estimates say the real total is probably more than twelve million)? There’s still an element of ‘crime fiction as a mirror’ about it, but a lot of ‘crime fiction as an escape’ too. Maybe not quite as much of an escape as Tufty the Vampire Slayer, or The Horrible Haunting of Tartan Haggis MacFunland, but an escape nonetheless.
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