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Fiction. Mystery. Thriller. HTML: Death, deception, and a detective with quite a lot to hide stalk the pages of Anthony Horowitz's brilliant murder mystery, the second in the bestselling series starring Private Investigator Daniel Hawthorne. "You shouldn't be here. It's too late . . . " These, heard over the phone, were the last recorded words of successful celebrity-divorce lawyer Richard Pryce, found bludgeoned to death in his bachelor pad with a bottle of wineâ??a 1982 Chateau Lafite worth ÂŁ3,000, to be precise. Odd, considering he didn't drink. Why this bottle? And why those words? And why was a three-digit number painted on the wall by the killer? And, most importantly, which of the man's many, many enemies did the deed? Baffled, the police are forced to bring in Private Investigator Daniel Hawthorne and his sidekick, the author Anthony, who's really getting rather good at this murder investigation business. But as Hawthorne takes on the case with characteristic relish, it becomes clear that he, too, has secrets to hide. As our reluctant narrator becomes ever more embroiled in the case, he realizes that these secrets must be exposedâ??even at the risk of death .… (more)
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Over the last few years he has branched out into fiction for adults (I know that is a rather awkward construction, but I feared that the phrase âadult fictionâ might give people altogether the wrong impression of his writing, and, indeed, my reading habits), in which he continues to demonstrate a constantly innovative approach.
The first of his novels that I encountered was The House of Silk which he was commissioned to write by the Estate of Arthur Conan Doyle, and which recounted a âlostâ Sherlock Holmes adventure which, for reasons which become evident as the story progresses, Dr Watson had undertaken to defer from publication until all the protagonists were dead. Horowitz captured the feel of Conan Doyleâs original stories admirably, and the book represented a valuable addition to the Sherlock Holmes canon.
Following that success, he was commissioned by the Estate of Ian Fleming to write a new James Bond book, which came to fruition as âTrigger Mortis. Once again, he captured the feel and style of the original books â far more capably than Sebastian Faulks managed in The Devil May Care, and to my mind almost on a par with William Boydâs excellent Solo. Indeed, I suspect that writers as accomplished as Boyd and Horowitz probably found it painful to have to rein in their own laudable style to try to recapture the relentless mediocrity of Ian Flemingâs prose.
He followed this with another venture into Holmesâs territory with his excellent Moriarty, which recounted the exploits of that arch criminal and featured a major twist that I certainly didnât see coming, and then addressed the traditional whodunit with a homage to Agatha Christie in The Magpie Murders, one of the finest examples of meta-fiction that I have read recently.
In his next novel, The Word is Murder, Horowitz returned to meta-fiction but with a different twist, casting himself as one of the leading characters, which allowed him to offer an insight into the modus operandi of a busy professional writer. In that book Horowitz was more or less appropriated by Daniel Hawthorne, a former Detective inspector from the Metropolitan Police. Hawthorne had previously acted as an adviser on some of the programmes with which Horowitz had been involved, and also occasionally acts as a consultant for the Met on some of their more unusual murder investigations. Hawthorne approaches Horowitz, asking the writer to catalogue some of his investigations with a view to their eventual publication in book form. The relationship between Hawthorne and Horowitz was fractious but eventually productive, and they do eventually identify the perpetrator of the first murder that they investigate.
This novel picks up pretty quickly from the end of The Word is Murder, with Hawthorne being called upon by the Met to help with their investigation of the death of Richard Pryce, a wealthy divorce law barrister, who is found bludgeoned by, and then repeatedly stabbed with, an exceptionally expensive bottle of wine in his opulent Highgate house on the fringes of Hampstead Heath. There is a prime suspect, Akiro Anno, a Japanese poet who had fared badly in her recent divorce proceedings as a consequence of Pryce efforts on behalf of her ex-husband. The case against her is strengthened by the discovery that she had recently created a scene in a Hampstead restaurant. Finding herself by chance dining near Pryce, she had crossed over to his table and poured a glass of wine over his head, announcing loudly that she wished she had the whole bottle to hand.
Horowitz brings his powers of literary parody to bear on Akiro Anno, who is portrayed almost as a lesser Yoko Ono figure, reeling off several examples of her apparently celebrated haikus. He also takes the opportunity to offer a swipe at several other genres of fiction, including a marvellous parody of the sub-Game of Thrones genre that seems suddenly to have erupted across bookshops everywhere. He also gives us a very accurate, and affectionate, description of Daunt Books in Marylebone, one of my favourite bookshops. (In fact, I am disappointed now that I didnât buy my copy of this book there â that would have lent a pleasing symmetry.)
Throw in a well-constructed plot, and some clever humour, and it all makes for a very entertaining and rewarding book.
After âThe Word Is Murderâ, this is the second instalment of this very unique crime series starring the author as narrator and the very peculiar former police detective Daniel Hawthorne who has his very own way of proceeding. Not to forget: again there are some very obvious hints to the number one crime writer Arthur Conan Doyle. It is not just Horowitz and Hawthorne as a comic version of Watson and Holmes, also the case bears close resemblance to some well-known cases of the private London detective.
The case was without any doubt cleverly constructed and is based on a very human vice. Signs everywhere lead to the murderer, yet, they have to be detected and read in the right way. The narrator is getting better in analysing crime scenes, yet this does not prevent him from coming to coherent, but unfortunately false conclusions. The character of Hawthorne has lost nothing of his peculiarity which made me enjoy reading about him and hating him at the same time. He strongly seems to be somewhere on the autism spectrum with his massive lack of social competence. Most of all, however, I really relished Horowitzâs humour which accounts for most of the fun of the read.
A wonderful series with certainly a highly unique style of narration.
I received a digital ARC via NetGalley.
Though a series, this novel stands alone. The best explanation I've found that quickly gives
FYI - Foyle's War lovers will get a hoot out of the first scene...
Review of the Harper Collins paperback edition (2019) of the original 2018 hardcover.
I've added Anthony Horowitz to my limited list of ever reliable mystery writers. The Daniel Hawthorne series where cranky private detective/ex-policeman Hawthorne is
Aside from the meta-fictional fun of Horowitz constantly referring to the scriptwriting and/or production issues of his Foyle's War television series, there is the old-school bonus of either Hawthorne or Horowitz pointing out when clues have occurred in the story although in most cases the reader (and the fictional Horowitz) are oblivious to them or unaware of their significance. This 2nd in the series also provides an opportunity for a glimpse at Hawthorne's seemingly unlikely Book Club hobby along with evidence of his Hawthorne Irregulars support network. For further fun, a clue from the first Sherlock Holmes novel A Study in Scarlet (1887) leads towards a clue and solution in The Sentence is Death as well.
The Sentence is Death is the second book in author Anthony Horowitz' Detective Daniel Hawthorne series and, as in the first book, The Word is Murder, Horowitz gets to play a character in the novel. He is once again Watson, chronicler and bumbling assistant to Hawthorne's Sherlock. And like the first book, the story is great fun, not in small part, due to the way Horowitz pokes fun at himself throughout. The story may be set in the present and written as 'true crime' including Acknowledgements and a footnote at the end, but it feels like an homage to the Golden Age of detective fiction, more a puzzler than an action- packed thriller. But Horowitz knows how to create a real head-scratcher and it kept this reader guessing right up to the end.
Thanks to Edelweiss+ and Harper Publishing for the opportunity to read this book in exchange for an honest review
I found the first book incredibly clever and that originality continues with book two.
The protagonist is the enigmatic Hawthorn, let go from the police and now working as a P.I.
In this latest, a divorce lawyer is found bludgeoned to death with an expensive bottle of wine. Hawthorne picks up on the smallest clues and discrepancies. Horowitz also tries to investigate at times, but doesn't have the skill set of Hawthorne. What Horowitz desperately wants to konw is more about Hawthorne. The personal details of the detective are sparse and are only slowly being brought to light.
The murder is clever and takes several turns, keeping the reader guessing along with Horowitz. Hawthorne is far ahead of us on the final path to whodunit.
Clever, clever, clever. And so much fun to read. This reader will be looking forward to book number three. (And Horowitz has stated that he sees nine or ten Hawthorne book in the series.)
The final "reveal" (by of course the detective himself) left me a bit disgruntled - like the author, I wanted to figure it out, but the way the details are provided left me little to go on... Still I liked it - fun vacation read.
The crime is complicated by the fact that there is another, very unlikely crime in the past involving this lawyer and two other men, all of whom are now dead, two of them under suspicious circumstances within the last 24 hours.
I love the narrator of these mysteries although his Female voice for a British police woman is the most grating thing I've ever heard. That aside I can't wait for the next book in the series.
Though the sequel to The Word is Murder, The Sentence is Death could work as a standalone. As in the first book, the mystery itself takes a back seat to the metafiction of author-as-narrator and playful send-up of classic mysteries. Reading it I got the sense that Horowitz (the author, that is) may be getting a little tired of the shtick. It certainly didn't have quite the same charm for me as a reader, but it's a fast-paced, diverting summer read.
In this
Entertaining, but also a bit sad, especially when you read the ending and how everything is resolved.
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