Abattoir Blues : The 22nd DCI Banks Mystery Paperback
Part of the DCI Banks series
Two missing boys. A stolen bolt gun. One fatal shot. Three ingredients for murder. When DCI Banks and his team are called to investigate the theft of a tractor from a North Yorkshire village, they're far from enthusiastic about what seems to be a simple case of rural crime.
Then a blood stain is found in an abandoned hangar, two main suspects vanish without a trace, and events take a darkly sinister turn. As each lead does little to unravel the mystery, Banks feels like the case is coming to a dead end.
Until a road accident reveals some alarming evidence, which throws the investigation to a frightening new level. Someone is trying to cover their tracks - someone with very deadly intent ...
- Format: Paperback
- Pages: 384 pages
- Publisher: Hodder & Stoughton General Division
- Publication Date: 15/01/2015
- Category: Crime & mystery
- ISBN: 9781444704983
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Review by Eyejaybee
It is always rather painful to see a novelist whom one formerly viewed with great respect now subsiding into literary torpor, churning out lame plots riddled with implausible characters and facile dialogue. That, sadly, seems to be the fate befalling Peter Robinson. After a solid start with a series of dependable if never quite spectacular novels featuring Inspector (later Chief Inspector) Alan Banks, he suddenly hit mid-season form with 'In A Dry Season' and the five or six novels that followed it, and he became one of the leading British exponents of the police procedural novel. Unfortuantely he seemed to take the pitcher to the well not merely once too often but six or seven times more than the source could sustain, and his recent novels have been pale imitations of his best work.Abattoir Blues does not reverse this downward trend. It came close to succeeding, and the two entwined stories (traces of human blood and remains found on a disused government-owned airfield out in the Peak District and the theft of an immensely expensive tractor from a farm out in the moors) offered sound potential. Somehow, though, Robinson seems to have lost the ability to build on these starts. His characters' dialogue used to crackle with verisimilitude and verve, but now they all seem to have been supping valium-laced cocoa and stumble through their conversations in a painfully laboured manner.