Journeys to kingdom of escapists

Press, 5 June 1982, Page 16

Journeys to kingdom of escapists

Cat’s Eyes, by Lee Jordan. Hodder and Stoughton, 1981. 170 pp, $18.50. Pay-Off. By Domini Wiles. Constable, 1982. 189 pp, $19.25. Death of a Don, by Howard Shaw. Hodder and Stoughton, 1981. 187 pp, $19.95. The Mischief Makers, by William Haggard. Hodder and Stoughton, 1982. 173 pp, $19.95.

(Reviewed by

Ken Strongman)

Between them this quartet of books cover most of the terrain in the kingdom of escapist fiction. Whatever-grounds you prefer to tramp in the search for relief from the familiar roads of. everyday existence is probably here. The exception is genuine high adventure in the vein of Desmond Bagley or Alistair Maclean. However, the quartet is truly liberated; there are two heroines and two heroes. What more subtle measure of the impact of the female cause? "Cats Eyes" is a soap-crime-opera with shades of mysticism about it. Rachel Chater is stuck in remote Sussex (‘sex counties again) with only her new baby for company. Her writing husband is in the United States. Recently, she has crashed her car and killed a local handyman whose hands were adroit in more ways than one. As chance would have it, she also injured an enormous black, feral tom-cat which seems to be out for revenge. She has few friends and one of them is suspect. Tension is there, but it is hardly unbearable. Everything resolves in the end and those who are still living do so happily ever after. However, the poor old cat doesn’t come out of it too well. The writing is shaky and the plot gutless, not unlike the cat in the end. Which is a pity, since he was the most sympathetic character. Lee Jordan is the name of a husband and wife writing team who, surprise, surprise, live in the depths of the countryside. One gets ten that they have a

big black tom. Writing teams tend to be too obviously commercial; this one is no exception. The theme of revenge is even more crudely explored in Domini Wiles’ "PayOff." Overly-thorough investigative journalism puts an Englishman in the middle of warring American mobsters. He is murdered by a gigantic, perfectlyproprotioned, sweat-covered, sadistic, black. His actress fiance, cruelly raped by the gentle giant, swears vengeance. Affecting dramatic changes to her appearance and biting back the tears, she crosses the Atlantic. By easy stages and with supremely controlled Thespianism, she inveigles her way into the plushly appointed household of one mobster. Thereby, she accomplishes what the local police have been unsuccessfully trying for months. She plays one side off against the other and arranges for them to be caught in their own cross-fire in climactic mayhem. The. police mop up and our heroine finally manages to ciy again in the arms of the brave, and incidentally, rather well set up young detective. The best that can be said about “PayOff is that it would be readable if you were stuck at an airport desperate to ignore the surroundings. Domini Wiles is very keen on tall, broad-shouldered men and has a rich and varied fantasy life into which this book provides some insight. With Howard Shaw’s “Death of a Don” there is a move up into the second division. It is Michael Innes revisited. The writing is precise and disarming, and the book a fine example of the crime-at-the-university tradition. There are three deaths, the destruction of a priceless relic, and more back-biting than in a school of sharks.

Academic stereotypes — left wing, right wing, religious, irreligious, thorough, pretentious, dignified and inept — are created against a backdrop of crumbling masonry, and mildewy books. They worry about money but are too lofty to think

about it rationally. In the face of the cruel world, they close ranks. Through all this strides Inspector Barnaby, tali, angular, gentle, sauve, and just as intelligent as the dons. “Death of a Don” is a very satisfying, traditional book. There are few forays down from the ivory tower just the occasional sorting out of thoughts in the local hostelry and one semi-secret sexual liaison by a young don. There is no great surprise about the intended denouement, but it doesn’t matter. All’s well that ends well, justice is served, and there are some nice red herrings floating in the pool. Finally, William Haggard brings us up to the first division with “The Mischief Makers,” the latest in his long series of tales about Colonel Russell, of the Security Executive. It is elegantly written and tightly plotted. The setting is London and there is Haggard’s usual beautifully measured political intrigue. Now and then it erupts into discreet violence and even more discreet sex, but not often, and only when necessary. Arabs and an American black are using England as a playground for their own games involving all colours of the political spectrum. It all hinges, on arms and is confused by a talented, wellmeaiiing but slightly out-of-his-depth Anglo-Irish mercenary. The members of the Security Executive are human and unßondish in their capacities. Pallant, their new boss, has an ulcer, Smith is an educated upper-class third generation West Indian, and Bullen is a desk man who wants to be .operational. Hovering over all is Charles Russell, now retired but still recognised as the doyen when the going is rough. There is a smooth elegance about William Haggard’s books which makes them singular in a fictional sub-culture of crude fantasy. The Security Executive could well exist, and if it does we should hope that someone like Charles Russell is its guiding force.