Graham Hurley is the author 12 novels in the critically acclaimed
Portsmouth-set series featuring Detective Inspector Faraday and Detective
Sargent Winter, which are noted for their realistic portrayal of contemporary
Britain and especially Portsmouth. Embarking on a new series, Western Approaches is a spin off from
this series and features D/S Suttle, and is set in the West Country.
Leaving Pompey (aka
Portsmouth), fictionally or otherwise, was never going to be easy. In the real world, we packed the cat, a couple of potted plants, a witch and a trillion books into our ancient
camper, lodged the key with a neighbour,
and headed west (the rest of our stuff
had already gone). Nearly thirty years
in this extraordinary city had bred a deep affection for its rough charms and
as we passed Dorchester, I remember wondering whether we had made the right
decision. For better or worse, places
like Pompey spark story after story. Was
it really wise to abandon all this?
Back then, in 2008, the
Faraday series still had three books to go.
These were complex novels with multi-layered plots, full of the mayhem
and clamour that went with 200,000 souls banged up on the flatness of Portsea
Island. Feral kids camping in the spooky
darkness of a derelict cinema. Single
mums stealing a living from the chillier cabinets of local supermarkets and
flogging bacon joints round the inner city estates. The constant drumbeat of tribal warfare, as
local gangs jostled for advantage. A
city apart: complex, bewildering, but
always rich in fictional possibilities.
Once the series was finally put to bed, where was I going to turn next?
In principle, the
solution seemed obvious. The USP of the
Faraday books – their trademark, if you like – had always been their
authenticity. I had spent a lot of time
and effort getting alongside working cops and this investment had paid off in
spades in terms of both reviews and sales.
However, after a nearly a decade in print, my two lead cops were fast
approaching retirement, and if for no other reason, I had to find a new
direction if I was to remain a crime writer.
So why not ship one of my younger cops west? Why not bring him down to Devon, along with
the cat and the potted plants?
By now, I was deep into
Book 10, Beyond Reach. With a brand new series in mind, I began
to give young D/S Jimmy Suttle more room on the page. He was barely 30. He had just got married. He had a child on the way. And as the star apprentice of rogue cop D/C
Paul Winter, he was full of potential mischief.
There was, however, a
problem. That first summer in East Devon,
I am glad to report, was blissful. No
stoned babies. No packs of paedo-hunting
kids. In addition, when strangers said
good morning on the seafront, you never wondered whether they were taking the
piss. This novel glimpse of a very
different lifestyle did wonders for my blood pressure but as the months went by,
I began to stress about the challenge of turning all this rich contentment into
page-turning drama.
Orion, my publishers,
had the same doubts. When I first
mentioned the possibility of a spin-off series set in leafy Devon, their eyes
rolled. Crime fiction was getting uglier
and more brutal by the week. Cream
teas? Thatched cottages? Happiness?
Just how noir was all that?
I told them they were
wrong. A single force polices both Devon
and Cornwall. The sheer range of
locations – and thus fictional possibilities - is vast: the gritty urban angst of Plymouth, beleaguered up-country hill farmers, beset
by poverty and generations of inbreeding, the tatty remains of the English
Riviera awash with Scouse drug dealers,
West Country fishermen, tied hand and foot by EU regulations. This, I assured Orion, would offer young
Jimmy Suttle the caseload of his dreams.
Forget London. Think outside the
box.
But then something
strange happened. Lin and I joined the
local offshore rowing club. Twice a week,
with a bunch of madcap ex-Marines (and a cop), we tackled vast distances and
had a lot of fun. Neither of us had been
in a club before. And the swirl of stuff
going on beneath the surface was a revelation.
At the same time, Simon
Spanton – my editor – had begun to warm to the idea of books set in the West
Country. The Faraday novels had
developed into a portrait of a single English city, seen through the eyes of
both the cops and the bad guys, set over an entire decade. In ways I had never planned, they had a lot
to say about the state of our embattled nation.
The new departure needed a quite different mission statement. So how about a series exploring the
contemporary pressures on a young marriage?
This, I knew at once,
was an excellent idea. I have always
been fanatical about the small print of everyday life. Look any stranger in the eyes, establish a
rapport, tease out his (or her) story, and you will be amazed where life leads
people. In this sense, our new adopted
home was like any other community: full
of hidden potential.
And thus, Western Approaches came to pass. It is based, to no one’s surprise, on our
local rowing club. It features a sus
death that only Jimmy Suttle believes is murder. It is a country mile from the busy complex
violence of the Faraday novels, and it may not be what hard-bitten crime fans
are expecting, but early reactions have been more than positive. Touching
Distance, the second book, is now done:
a trail of serial killings that stretch Suttle and his mates to their
limits.
Enjoy? Here’s hoping…
Western Approaches - D/S Jimmy Suttle has
finally tired of the relentless struggle against the rising tide of urban crime
in Portsmouth. Surely, a job in Major
Crimes in the West Country will offer some respite? He finds a remote cottage
nestled in a fold of Dartmoor and, with his wife and two-year-old daughter;
heads west for what he is sure will be a saner existence. How wrong could he be? Soon he is investigating the murder of a
long-distance rower in the small town of Exmouth. The man rowed in the same
5-man boat as a man who, two years before, dodged a murder charge when his wife
went missing during a cross Atlantic rowing challenge. There had been tensions
between the two. Has a killer killed
again?
As the job takes over, Lizzie, Suttle's wife, is increasingly unhappy about the move. Trying to juggle family life with her own new job on a local paper, isolated in a lonely cottage with a demanding toddler and struggling to make new friends, Lizzie thought the whole point of the move was that she and Suttle could at least see more of each other.
As his marriage frays at the edges and his first investigation becomes mired Suttle begins to feel the hills around their cottage crowding in, the wind over the moors above ever chillier, the waters ever greyer. He really has reached land's end...
More information about Graham Hurley and his writing can be found on his website.
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