Mark Timlin is a British author best known for his series of novels featuring Nick Sharman, a former Metropolitan Police officer who takes up the profession of private investigator in South London. He is also a renowned book reviewer and literary commentator. His most recent work is REAP THE WHIRLWIND. In his early years he did various jobs including work as a member of the road crew for THE WHO, including working backstage at Woodstock in the 1960s on the lighting cranes
More info > http://wwwshotsmagcouk.blogspot.com/2019/12/the-return-of-nick-sharman.html
Tiverton is nothing but a blemish on the roadside, three hours north of Adelaide, but a million miles from the civilised big city. New constable on the patch, Paul Hirschhausen, known as Hirsch, a police detective, back in uniform, demoted and exiled to the bush, is sent by his sergeant to reports of gunfire on Bitter Wash Road, which lives up to its name.
When he arrives, a bullet whizzes past his head. Is it friend or foe? Because his friends are now his enemies. Other cops hate him. Was he corrupt, or a whistle-blower? Or both. And besides, he hasn’t been around long enough to make new enemies. Not yet. But it’s neither friend nor enemy, just a couple of kids plinking cans with a .22 rifle. Relax Hirsch. But not for long, as Hirsch gets a call reporting a body by the side of a road, and the real fun begins.
Hirsch is shown the body by a passing motorist who stopped for a leak. She’s young, dressed, and dumped like garbage to be left at the mercy of wild dogs, crows, flies and ants who have all made a meal of her. So was it an accident, or murder?
There’s a lot going on in Tiverton, and the nearest big town, Redruth, where the local police HQ is based. Bad cops, over-zealous policing, violence, racism, rape. Hirsch is plunged back into his position as a good cop trying to please everyone, but of course it doesn’t work. It never does.
BWR is a tasty slice of Aussie noir, all bleached out landscapes dotted with abandoned houses and gold mines that came up empty. With Utes and Jumbucks, Billabongs, Blue Heelers, and Redgum trees. Highways that stretch for miles between one shithole town, and the next, where the dogs are nothing but ribs and a prick. Here to there, purgatory to hell.
Hirsch is a great character, and this is a terrific crime novel, tightly plotted, leaking just enough facts to keep the reader fascinated. One that begs another visit to the outback. And guess what? At the end is a bonus first chapter of the next Hirsch novel called Peace. Can’t wait.