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One of my favorite novelists, Val McDermid, has her new thriller out, at long last. 

McDermid is sometimes called the heir to PD James and to Ruth Rendell, but she doesn't really have a massive reputation in the US. It's distressing to me that so many people read "Galbraith," and few of my friends spend time with the works of Val McDermid.

Despite not having a "Stephen King" name, McDermid is undeterred; she writes around one novel per year. Some of the books concern Tony Hill and Carol Jordan--wonderfully dysfunctional crime-stoppers. Another series concerns Karen Pirie, who is slightly hot-headed and is also committed to solving a variety of cold cases.

The new book--"Still Life"--has Pirie focused on two mysteries. In one corner of Scotland, a woman dies, and a search of her property reveals a human skeleton in the garage. Who could this other corpse be? Was she murdered? How? In another part of Scotland, a man seems to kill his brother, then he disappears. Several months later, he, the alleged killer, also winds up dead. Foul play? And can the first case link up, in some way, with the second?

McDermid knows how to work in scandals and crises: Covid waits in the wings, one dead character seems to have been secretly gay, a murderous ex-convict is on the loose and a wounded victim is stalking him. Thorny love affairs make me think of "The Good Wife": Relationships fall apart for silly, avoidable, plausible reasons. McDermid's characters are believably, delightfully crazy; they have complex pasts and they contend with emotional wreckage. There is the lurid story, but then there is also the pleasure of checking in with messy, struggling people whom you feel you actually know.

I'm not done yet, but I love this book, as I love most of McDermid's later work--and I'm giving four provisional stars.
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