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When the child of wealthy parents goes missing in Paris, a ransom demand is expected, but not received. A second young girl goes missing, also in Paris, and is then found dead in Marseilles. Chief Inspector Daniel Jacquot is approached by Marseilles magistrate, Solange Bonnefoy, who is hoping to involve Jacquot in the search for her niece. Jacquot's investigations take him first to Paris where the girl's stepfather, a cold fish of a banker, seems remarkably unmoved by the missing girl's plight even though he professes to love her like his own daughter. Jacquot then goes undercover in his home city, in the guise of a merchant seaman seeking work, in an attempt to get closer to the seamier side of the city and see if he can pick up any rumours about unusual activity in the underworld, particular concerning suspected human trafficking out of the seaport. For a supposedly experienced and street-wise detective, I have to say that the Chief Inspector's performance in this regard was singularly inept and he makes a series of very basic mistakes that end with an attempt being made on his own life. I like the setting of the novel and way the author vividly depicts both Marseilles and its criminal fraternity. The villains are very nasty indeed and display remarkable ingenuity in disposing of those who make the mistake of interfering in their business, as well as treading a fine line between realism and caricature, although they do only narrowly avoid the latter. One aspect of the story which did fail to convince me, though, was the part played by Marie-Ange Buhl, a psychic who knows Jacquot from previous investigations and teams up with him in his hunt for the missing girl. She also seems to play the part of an alternative love-interest for Jacquot and I was left with the feeling that O'Brien wanted to find a place for her in the book, even though she didn't appear to contribute in any particularly meaningful way to the plot. For readers who enjoy a French setting and an authentic French feel, O'Brien delivers a polished product, and I was able to put my qualms about the psychic angle to one side as the book gathered pace towards a genuinely tense climax. § Linda Wilson is a writer, and retired solicitor, with an interest in archaeology and cave art, who now divides her time between England and France.
Reviewed by Linda Wilson, June 2010
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Contact: Yvonne Klein (ymk@reviewingtheevidence.com)
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