The Botanist

There are certain series that just get better and better as they continue. It's as if somebody has told the author, “We love what you're doing, so do more of it. And this time, take the brakes off”. This is undoubtedly the case with M.W. Craven's Washington Poe series. Or perhaps that should be his 'Tilly and Poe' series, because what makes these books so much fun is the brilliantly mismatched duo at the heart of each story.

For those unfamiliar with the set-up, Detective Sargent Washington Poe works for the National Crime Agency, specialising in serial killers and really weird stuff. He is taciturn, rude, disdainful of authority and technically inept. He is also a brilliant and tenacious detective. Civilian analyst Tilly Bradshaw is quite the opposite. A bona fide genius, she has limited social skills and views the world with a wide-eyed naivete that, coupled with her alarming frankness, is both endearing and toe-curlingly embarrassing. 

And absolutely hilarious. 

For those who are long-standing fans of the series, you can rest assured that The Botanist delivers the usual feast of wonderful Tilly and Poe interactions, with several snort-coffee-out-your-nose moments.

That would be enough for many readers, but The Botanist is also an expertly-crafted detective thriller, featuring not one, but two locked-room mysteries. The first, from which the book takes its title, is that posed by the serial killer The Botanist. The police simply can't figure out how the murderer is getting to the high-profile targets being slaughtered in such a devious way. As much as he claims to hate locked-room mysteries, this is right up Washington Poe's street. 

The second mystery is more personal. Professor Estelle Doyle, the gothic pathologist that Poe counts amongst his few friends, has been arrested for the murder of her father. ALL the evidence points towards her, and there seems to be no other plausible explanation. But Tilly and Poe are convinced that she can't possibly be guilty. 

The book is fiendishly clever, and Craven has gone out of his way to seek expertise in the subject matter, so that the story-lines are both plausible and easily understood. With two investigations and the trademark Tilly and Poe diversions, you get a lot for your money here. But it moves along at a spanking pace, feeling neither rushed or overly long. 

I feel confident that this book will be gracing many a short-list this year. And if you aren't already a fan of the series, go back to the beginning, The Puppet Show, and treat yourself. You won't regret it.