Reginald Hill - Death Comes for the Fat Man (2007)
Reviewed by Fiona Walker
Death Comes for the Fat Man (awfully re-titled for U.S. publication from The Death of Dalziel, a much more direct affair, a more pleasingly forthright challenge to an intrigued reader) is the first Dalziel and Pascoe novel for three years, so it's hugely welcome, even after the career-highlight that was the glorious interlude The Stranger House. It begins when our intrepid due are called to the site of an incident outside a shop that's being monitored by the CAT (Combined Anti-Terrorism unit). Brought to attention by the hapless Constable Hector, Dalziel is thus inclined to dismiss it (given Hector's track record), and it's an inclination that may prove fatal: as a result he is caught in the blast of a huge Semtex explosion that decimates the shop and much of the surrounding street. Partner Pascoe is only saved by the protection of Dalziel's bulk.
As Dalziel's life hangs in the balance in hospital, Pascoe bullies his way into the CAT investigation, taking the vaguely unconscious step of filling his bosses shoes (and at the same time taking on some of his more brusque characteristics!) He vows to track down whoever is responsible for the explosion and bring them to justice. Soon after, more crimes start piling up: for starters, a Muslim extremist is beheaded and videoed in his own home, the footage released to the media. A group calling themselves the Knights Templar claim responsibility for this, and further events. It appears that their campaign is against Muslim extremists who have escaped their own view of "justice," and they always seem to be one step ahead.
Thank God for Reginald Hill. There is, without a doubt, no crime-writer like him. I would like to make a bold statement now: he is the best male British crime writer there is. I can honestly think of no one to best him (even Ian Rankin). For so many reasons: his supreme abilities with character, the tendency to see the humor in everyone, his levels of empathy and compassion. Then there's his plots which, even when not out of the ordinary like this one (after all, everyone is writing terrorist novels these days; I find it irritating), just shine with every scene because of his sheer style. It is, quite obviously, his style which makes him stand out primarily, and the one thing everyone is guaranteed to comment upon. Hill has more verve and fizz, more witty life spring in his writing than any other crime novelist. He is certainly one of the few I can think of (the only other is Michael Dibdin) who has real wit. He is worth reading for that alone, for the bawdy, headstrong humor exemplified by Dalziel alone.
It's a risky choice, essentially removing your star character from the entire novel. And, we must admit, Dalziel is the star character: Pascoe may actually be more subtle, but he is, let's face it, also more boring. However, Hill employs nice tricks to get over this: the first is to present occasional glimpses of Dalziel's dreamy consciousness as he floats somewhere between life and death, and thus we get snippets of his character. It's odd, that these moments provide some of the most moving (and also humorous) in the whole novel. The other way Hill counteracts having Dalziel unavoidably AWOL is to gradually transplant some of Dalziel's more headstrong character traits into Pascoe. Pascoe, with the beloved boss and friend out of action, feels he must become the man of the house, must step into Dalziel's shoes (and it's a thought that he only half consciously acknowledges). Thus, as Pascoe barrels around and bullies his way through an investigation he really should only have a very peripheral role in, we see Dalziel's shadow all over the book, and we also get to realize quite how strong the bond between the two men is, even if Pascoe doesn't entirely realize it himself. This illumination of the central relationship is one of the most touching aspects of the book.
Other draws? Hill's refusal to let even the most minor of characters seem cardboard, or dull. The issues tackled in a sensitive, sensible way, from a different angle to how many would tackle them. To be fair, the plot isn't exactly believable, but that's never really been the point in these novels. They are unfailingly original contrivances, always entertaining, and they make complete plausible sense in the world of the books. His wit and wordplay seem to create this world where, if words can be so wonderfully and originally toyed with, then the plots can be similarly playful and eclectic.
Death Comes for the Fat Man has it all. It is fun, it is clever, it is moving, it is above everything written with such a pyrotechnic flair for language that every page contains lexical gems, whatever it's about. There's a nice final-page twist, but even without that, this is a most satisfying piece of fiction indeed, and one of the best of the series.
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