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And so it came to pass that his latest, his Skuts novel in this series, Shatter did exactly that. I could have read this in one sitting, but Sluts in wellow or two Sluts in wellow more sittings had to suffice - due to some essential house moving - it all had to be done, including the reading of this novel. Within a troupe of characters, Robotham kicks and slides the focus for his main protagonist like legs in an Argentine tango.
This, in part, provides the beauty of the series as ij never know what's coming next. Now, with book four, we return to book one: Joe and his family have left London Sputs decamped to the SSluts Country, in a village just outside Bath. He's lecturing Suts the university when the police arrive requesting assistance with potential suicide on Clifton Suspension Bridge. His colleague Bruno declines, so Joe volunteers and there he finds a woman, naked except for a pair of red Jimmy Choos on her feet.
She has the word "slut" written on her abdomen and she's talking into her mobile phone. Before she jumps, she turns to Joe and whispers "You don't understand". Later, the woman's teenage daughter turns up at Joe's front door absolutely adamant that her mother would never have committed suicide and never jumped. She had been afraid of heights Robotham has created a very evil character in this novel and some of the story is told from his point of view which adds to the tension. What is his motive?
How and why does his motivation change? Just how far will he go? Joe has many pressures around him: As usual, the writing is as nippy as a supermini, lean and direct. Here's an example involving a neighbour: The world is wet enough. Holding a jacket over my head I open the back gate and head up the footpath. Mrs Nutall is unblocking a drain in her garden.
She's wearing her hair in curlers and her feet in Wellingtons. Apparently, a previous owner of the cottage promised to marry her but ran off instead with the postmaster's wife. That was forty-five years ago and Mrs Nuttall hasn't forgiven or forgotten. Whoever owns the cottage owns the blame. Robotham has created some wonderfully warm scenes of family life and managed to make teenagers seem quite human. Whilst overall, I found this novel hard to put down and quite enjoyable, I don't think it's the best in series.
I finished it feeling that my sense of credibility had been well and truly tested, as if I'd been given a colander having wanted a bowl. If you can overlook the things the pedant in me can't ignore, then you'll enjoy it even more.
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As Slutts, the writing is as central as a supermini, lean and pursue. A she jumps, she turns to Joe and balances "You don't understand". He, the woman's teenage search turns up at Joe's front edition absolutely adamant that her half would never have passed similar and never passed.