Book Review of The Billionaire Murders by Kevin Donovan

For the most part, this book skillfully interleaves the background and circumstances of the murder of Barry and Honey Sherman, with an in-depth exploration of their history and character. This makes reading the book enjoyable, in a very bittersweet sort of way, because you get to know, understand and mostly to like, the victims, even though the reader is never allowed to lose sight of the fact that they were murdered in a particularly hate-filled manner. I think it was necessary for the author to do things this way, because it’s very obvious that the world was told, in the wake of the murders, a lot of things about Barry Sherman in particular which were either not true at all, or a very unfair representation of the truth. This misrepresentation -and the misunderstanding by police of what had actually happened- can only have worked to the benefit of the murderer(s) and this simply has to be put right.

I say “for the most part” because towards the end, the narrative repeats itself, perhaps unnecessarily, -as if edited in some haste- and there is a significant logic hole in the carefully-limited conclusion which the author allows himself to reach. That is, the author, having been able to reconstruct the approximate sequence of events of the double murder, decides that Honey and then Barry were individually ambushed as they returned home separately -and then, most probably, murdered together. His conclusion is that only someone in the family circle would have been privy to the information required to achieve this. The problem is, when you factor in what is revealed about the two leather belts, found around Barry and Honey’s necks and presumably used to strangle them to death, just before the book reaches its limited conclusion, it is obvious that whoever carried out the murders actually knew more than any member of the family circle could have known, unless they had been able (for quite some time?) to eavesdrop on the victims’ conversations, not only at home, but at the offices of Apotex and other divers locations. As an electronics engineer with a background in acoustic measurement and air to ground data-links, I am unable to conceive of any efficient and effective means of achieving this other than spyware on either or both of Barry’s Blackberry and Honey’s Cellphone. Every time you consider other means of doing this, sooner or later you come across a necessary piece of information that the murderer(s) could not have come by, by means other than spyware on something the victims carried with them, everywhere.

What would make me inclined to look within the family circle for the murderer is not the information which the murderer(s) had, but the level of fury which was expressed in the details of the double murder. And this fury might have been fed, rather than diluted, by being able to hear the victims’ conversations, day after day for however long it was.

Any kind of traditional bug in the house would have been swiftly detected, if not by the police search then by the more detailed search commissioned by the family’s lawyer, but spyware would only be detected if somebody really quite expert looked for it, and the Toronto Police, initially at least, appear to have been neither expert nor even looking for that kind of thing. If those failings have since been rectified, the murderer(s) may well prove to be living on borrowed time.

This review is of the Kindle edition of the book, purchased from Amazon.co.uk

Book Review of “The Liar’s Daughter” by Claire Allan

Strictly speaking, this novel is a “whodunnit” but it takes an unusual form. The deceased is not the victim: the suspects are his victims. Claire Allan has done a lot of research for this novel, but I believe it also draws on her journalistic experience of reporting what happens in secret in the real world -as it finally comes out, usually in court. So, in this novel, quite a lot has to happen before ANY of the characters admit what actually has happened, even when they are not to blame. They also spend a lot of time focusing anger and blame in the wrong directions -and this tallies very well with my own knowledge of what abuse victims do: not through any fault of theirs, but as a consequence of the manipulation they have invariably been subjected to. Manipulation leaves its own scars and since abuse almost never occurs without manipulation of the victim, investigators need to understand that even when the victims come forward and attempt to tell their story, their actual abuser may still be holding the reins and what comes out at first may be skewed to their advantage. This is not the same thing as fabrication -even though victims may have been prosecuted for perjury- and a wise investigator would persist awhile and try to untwist things rather than dismiss the whole story as false, if some bit of it does not ring true.

This book is at times confusing, because it is painting an accurate picture of victims not being able to communicate what has happened, even to each other. This book also paints a picture where the manipulation and emotional and psychological abuse that accompany sexual abuse do more lasting harm than the sexual abuse itself.

This is a very good book, but reading it is not a picnic and it is not as entertainment that I recommend it. 

"The Liar's Daughter" is published by Avon Books UK.

Available from:

Waterstones

Amazon.co.uk

Book Review of Hitler’s Secret by Rory Clements

This is a spy thriller, set in late 1941 when Germany seemed to be winning WW2, even as Japan joined it. However, Rory Clements quietly creates a contrast between everyday life in Britain, where there is some hardship and quite a lot of danger, but if you’ve got your ration coupons you get your fair share of the necessities of life -even a Christmas lunch- and NAZI Germany, where the necessities of life are in short supply and those in privileged positions (invariably as a consequence of their standing with the NAZI Party and powerful factions within it) have considerably more than their fair share and those people who don’t know anyone in power are already suffering, even as Germany seems to be militarily triumphant. Clements does not labour the point, but he does provide the inquiring millennial reader with the information they need to understand how the apparently all-powerful NAZIs came to lose the war: they did not, at any stage, look after the people upon whose shoulders their wartime economy depended. The economy failed, as it had done for the Confederacy in the American Civil War, for essentially the same reasons: slave labour from the occupied countries was indeed employed, but even treatment of the native German non-slaves was only superficially better under the NAZIs.

(A warning here for Britain in 2020: if we continue to tolerate ever-increasing levels of modern slavery, we will not prosper and we will not deserve to. Look at the Confederacy and NAZI Germany for a moment!)

That is the background of the book, the foreground highlights the other defining vice of National Socialist Germany’s political elite, which was factionalism and endless plotting and scheming. Hitler actually accepted and even welcomed that his ministers would scheme against each other: he saw this as the politics of the wolf-pack, where the fittest wolves would rise to the top. This may work for wolves and hyenas but in human affairs it has a uniform tendency to select the worst humans possible for the leadership. What defines a successful human is NOT what defines a successful wolf, but even wolves have a caring side. The NAZIs (and some other more current national creeds with socialist characteristics ) had an ideological aversion to caring.

NAZI ministers in this tale range from Todt (intelligent and likeable, even impressive, but still in charge of the slave labour system), through Goring (vain and scheming) to Borman (utterly despicable.) It’s all about self-gratification and self-interest. In the forest of treachery and danger which they create, an innocent and vulnerable person has to survive.

This is a thriller in the sense that shocks and plot twists keep coming at the reader, and if the book has a major flaw, it is that this begins to feel a bit relentless at times.

One minor flaw is that a small German naval vessel is referred to, by German characters as an “E-boat” (a generic allied term for any form of combat-capable enemy launch or speedboat, including Italian ones.) For the record, what is being referred to is an “S-boot” and the Royal Navy used this term when those reporting a sighting could identify it as such, because one had to react to an S-boot somewhat differently from a larger but slower R-boot intended for roles such as escort or minelaying rather than attack.

A more significant error is that the hero, a sort of deniable field agent working for both MI6 and the nearest thing the Americans had to an equivalent in 1941, is not only told that key information comes from “BP” or Bletchley Park, but he already knows that this is involves codebreaking! No field agent was told about Bletchley Park in any way, and nobody who had somehow found out would have been sent into occupied territory, let alone sent there on a desperate mission with a significant risk of capture.

In general, though, this is a good novel.

Hitler’s Secret by Rory Clements  is published by Zaffre.

Available from:

Waterstones

Amazon.co.uk

Review of A Long Petal of the Sea by Isabel Allende

This is a novel, based on real events and some of the characters, including the poet Pablo Neruda and the dictators Franco and Pincochet are, of course, real historical figures. This sort of book is less common in Anglo-Saxon literary circles than elsewhere, but in the classical Roman era pretty well all “histories” were like this, because Roman scholars and gentlemen, such as Tacitus, had a contempt for “mere facts” and expected something that would tell them what historical characters thought and felt and why they did the things which made history.

What Pablo Neruda did to make history was charter a ship, the Winnipeg, to take a couple of thousand refugees of the Spanish Civil War, many Catalans and Basques, from France, where they had been neglected as maliciously as only the French authorities knew how, to Chile, where it seemed as if they might face an uncertain future. While the refugees’ arrival was still anticipated, the various factions of Chile’s divided society projected their own prejudices and expectations on the refugees, but when they arrived they were welcomed and seen for what they were, after which most of them made themselves part of Chile. Neruda’s genius contributed to this integration in a subtle but effective way: he may have selected the refugees more widely than the Chilean president had instructed him to do, but each one was told that they were being allowed into Chile for whatever skill it was that they had, so they all arrived with the idea of making a fresh start with that skill and making a life for themselves. They fled from Spain into France to get away from Franco and probable murder, were treated astonishingly badly in their country of first refuge, but Neruda transformed what started as a second desperate flight into something more positive.

This book shows you this through the eyes of many well-drawn fictional characters, which gives a fair impression of the Spanish Civil war -the author doesn’t allow the reader to think that only Franco’s forces committed atrocities and it is clear that no democracy could really have supported the nun-killing Republicans. The international figures who did intervene in the Spanish Civil War were Hitler, Mussolini and Stalin, none of whom held the slightest concern for any Spanish person on either side or the future of Spain. It was all a courtship dance, sacrificing Spanish lives so that Hitler and Stalin could come to terms and form the unholy alliance of dictators which conquered Czechoslovakia, Poland, Norway (and almost Finland), Holland, Belgium, France and Greece before it all broke down and Hitler tried to conquer Russia.

That isn’t part of the story, though, because when the refugees reached Chile, they left Europe and its agonies behind them and the dramas become those of families rather than nations, until Pinochet comes to power in Chile and the refugees have to flee Chile and make a new life for themselves elsewhere in South America until it is safe to return, first to Spain on Franco’s death, and then to Chile, their true home.

Why I requested and read this book:

I have always been interested in the Spanish Civil War, because as a schoolboy my father saw six slightly older boys from his school off on a train from London to France, where they would cross the border into Spain and volunteer to fight for the Republican militias. He would see just one of them again. He did not go with them, because of his step-father, a rare survivor from what the Kaiser called, in 1914 “a contemptible little army” who made a stand against a German advance that was rolling up Belgium and France, at a place called Mons. My step-grandfather, a trained and experienced professional soldier with medals going back to 1911, properly equipped and with the might of the British Empire behind him, found stopping the Imperial German Army in its tracks to be somewhat problematic. He knew that the untrained boys going to Spain, with no equipment beyond the walking boots they had been told to purchase and no support from the majority of the British public, had scant chance of survival, let alone success. Having no time whatsoever for symbolic acts of suicide, he convinced my father not to go to Spain, but to wait until Hitler did something to unite the British public against him (something he had very skillfully avoided doing at that point in time) and then something EFFECTIVE might be done. My step-grandfather held effectiveness in greater esteem than heroism and my father was sternly directed on a trajectory towards doing the most effective thing he possibly could, even if it held no opportunity for fame and glory.

A Long Petal of the Sea is published by Bloomsbury Publishing.

Available from:

Waterstones

Amazon.co.uk

Emilie Dubois

Copyright Emilie Dubois

This is a young woman who has completed a doctorate in biology at a university in Quebec, but has been refused permission to settle there because she wrote part of her thesis in English, so that she could publish it in a scientific journal.

She was born and bred in France, so this exclusion has nothing to do with any inability to speak or write in French, the language of Bureaucratic Heaven. What disqualifies her is her demonstrable ability to convey complex scientific concepts in English, rather than any discernible inability to do so in French. This is racism over the most tenuous of associations. By doing what is customary in scientific circles and writing her paper in English, Dr Dubois exploded a fondly-held belief of the anglophobes that English is a barbarian tongue, unsuited to the communication of any intellectual or civilised concept.

If the authorities in Quebec have a crumb of rationality behind their prohibition, it may be that they are trying to save Quebec from any repeat of the settlement there of the celebrated firearms designer, Sir Charles Ross, who was a bit of a rough diamond by all accounts. Being a proud, even a touch arrogant, Scotsman, Sir Charles did not have an English bone in his body, but that's not the sort of detail that haters actually care about. No, Dr Dubois used a barbarian tongue and she must be cast out, for the linguistic purity of Quebec.

In the outside world, it is important that scientists be able to convey their ideas to other scientists, and English is now the preferred medium for doing this. Yes, centuries ago it was done in French, if not Latin, but centuries ago isn't now. My English teacher* and lifelong friend, the late Alan G. Myers, once told me that he had been asked to translate a long, complicated and important-looking physics paper into English, by a female Russian scientist who was much impressed by his translations of Avante Garde poetry and classic Russian literature. Alan's knowledge of physics extended as far as being able to connect the bare ends of the power cable for the school's video recorder to a British Standard electrical outlet using matchsticks, and knowing that in cold countries you kept your rifle bolt inside your clothing so that you'd be able to shoot polar bears when the need arose. 

Willing to do anything to please a lady, he decided to have a stab at the important-looking paper and his translation was gratefully received by the female Russian scientist, but he was deeply worried because although he'd rendered the document into English, he barely understood a word of his own translation. The paper duly won a major international physics prize, leaving Alan secretly worried that his ignorance of physics might have somehow created an impressive but bogus new scientific concept which was winning prizes because nobody on the prize committee was able to understand it. I persuaded him that this was a bit of a long shot and he should stop worrying. So, although an inability to author a scientific paper in English can be rectified by a distinguished translator, it saves a lot of needless worry if you can write the thing in English yourself and be understood to say what you actually mean.

Dr Dubois might actually find it easier and more agreeable to settle in Britain than in Quebec, Brexit or no, because the belief that Brexit means that all British people are bigoted racist barbarians is simply a symptom of the widely-held creed amongst the European elite, that there can never be anything wrong with bureaucracy, so no rational person would want to leave a multi-national community dedicated to the celebration of bureaucracy in all its forms. If anything illustrates the dangers and limitations of bureaucracy, it is the treatment of Dr Dubois by the Quebec government.

A presentable young woman with a research degree, let alone a doctorate, in Biology or almost any other scientific discipline, would have to try very hard indeed to get thrown out of the United Kingdom, and if she settled here instead of where she clearly isn't wanted by those in power, would be an ideal role model for a young female relative of mine who wants to study molecular biology. 

* When I told Alan that I was writing novels with a view to publication, he assumed a worried frown and henceforth informed his peers that he had taught me English as a foreign language from the native Swahili. This was an understandable precaution, but I do not speak Swahili in fact, although I have relatives who do. 

Book Review of: The Memory Wood by Sam Lloyd

At first when you read this book, it seems as if Sam Lloyd has started off in the same place as John Fowles did with “The Collector”. But he goes in a different direction and through a different set of dangers to arrive in a different nightmare. This makes for a gripping read, if a disturbing one.

Fowles was inspired to write “The Collector” when he connected his literary studies, which revealed that a “girl being held captive in a cellar” was a common folk tale all over Europe, with a real case post WW2, where a boy had kept a girl captive in an air-raid shelter. He realised that this was not a myth, “urban” or otherwise, but something that really happened, quite widely and perhaps quite often. Since The Collector was published in 1963, there has been a steady stream of real-life cases bearing out Fowles’ observation, but not all of them have involved a psychotic individual culprit. Some, from Australia and latterly the Netherlands, seem to involve sub-cultures; some family-based or family-sized, others somewhat larger; cults if you like. You get a long way into The Memory Wood before you realise that it is about a sub-culture which in turn revolves around an individual and by the time you know which of the characters this actually is, you’ve almost reached the end. This book grips you, not just to thrill and entertain, but to teach you that sub-cultures can be at least as dangerous as the “lone psycho” that our popular culture leads us to fear more.

Along the way you also learn that lost souls will go where they are led, until something or someone intervenes and they go towards the light, sometimes with the very last of their strength.

Matthew K. Spencer 2^nd of November 2019.

The Memory Wood is published by Random House. 

Available from:

Waterstones

Amazon.co.uk

Two Foxes with Immunity to the Hounds

Two little predictions about the Jeffrey Epstein scandal:

Firstly, lawyers and journalists will now pursue Prince Andrew till the day he dies, and it's very likely that he will eventually go the way of his late sister in law.

Secondly, neither of the two "very famous prime ministers" involved in the scandal will be seriously troubled and they will be left to continue to attempt to return to office, either as Prime Minister of a small Middle-Eastern democracy, or as a Brexit-slaying Titan of Euro politics, clearly destined for much higher glory than the mere premiership of a mere country.