The Dentist

Following my recent reading of Tim Sullivan’s The Tailor I was so impressed by the quality of the writing, I wrote in conclusion to my review “….and at the end, I urgently ordered all the preceding novels because when I turned the final page - I was bereft.”  Despite the ‘British Police procedural’ novel being one of the most crowded subgenres in crime-fiction, I decided to read all the proceeding volumes in Tim Sullivan’s George Cross series, starting with the first volume – The Dentist.

This book took over my life for three days, and not just in terms of reading time, but also in contemplating the events that unfolded in the narrative when I was away from the book. The Dentist introduces DS George Cross [middle name Brunel after the Civil Engineer]; as well as the recurring characters from the Avon and Somerset Constabulary’s Bristol Major Crimes Unit [MCU]. George’s relationship with his equally eccentric father retired aerospace engineer Raymond and his interest in playing Church organs adds depth to the narrative. None of these set-up layers slows down, or hinders the pace of this first book in the series.

A vagrant is murdered by a fellow homeless man in a dispute regarding the ownership of a carrier bag of cheap lager. DS George Cross’s boss, DCI Carson considers the case as open-and-shut, as they have the offending vagrant - a former decorated soldier, suffering from PTSD [from the Iraq campaign] named colloquially ‘Badger’ in custody. Cross is unconvinced that ‘Badger’ is the murderer, and understanding his investigative tenacity and attention to detail, neither is his partner DS Ottey.

George Cross’s unusual nature is handled with sensitivity, and compassion for he would have been considered odd or eccentric several generations ago, but today we would classify him as neuro-divergent. The author does not use George Cross’s notch on the autistic spectrum as the main force propelling the narrative. What powers the novel is the three dimensional story-telling that acts as an adhesive that fixes the reader hands to the book jacket until the tale reaches its conclusion.

It is soon discovered that the murdered vagrant [named Leonard Carpenter], had a former profession, one that eponymously gives this debut novel its title. Relatives of Leonard are gradually introduced, as are other characters that soon make the narrative pulse and hum.

Cross discovers that there was an unsolved cold-case decades prior that featured the murder of the Dentist’s wife Hilary. Could the two cases be related? DCI Carson and the Deputy Superintendent of the Avon and Somerset Constabulary do not believe that the cases are linked. Cross’s partner Ottey has faith in her colleague’s instincts which are based deductively on hard cold logic, not gut-feel or political pressures. Problems arise when the officer in charge of the cold-case, is revealed to be [the now retired] DSI Stuart MacDonald, an officer who disliked the newly qualified DS George Cross, decades prior, and had bullied the young policeman.

We are also introduced to Alice Mackenzie who arrives as a trainee to the MCU, and who in Sullivan’s last novel The Tailor has now become an important facet of the team.

There is little-to-no physical action in the novel, but the narrative still purrs solidly to the events that unfold as George Cross and the MCU team investigate these two murders. The characters that interact with Cross, act as foils to the detective’s eccentric foibles as well as refracting all the dimensions of the narrative like a prism decoupling time from incidents, forcing the reader to ponder upon wider questions of life, and what surrounds us. Are we the physical embodiments of our past actions, the choices we made or were made for us?

There is compassion, as well as an understanding about human nature, and how fine details can have great consequences in shaping the reality that is both created and obscured in our lives and the lives of others.   

As a crime fiction novel, The Dentist is hypnotic as it holds the reader’s attention like a Cobra from a snake charmer’s basket. As a vehicle for contemplation about life and the constricting nature of fate and the choices we make – it’s like the coils of a Python.

It’s interesting that the book ends with a bonus chapter that was perhaps absent in the first published edition. When I read that final chapter, I set the book down, and sat in silence for close to an hour in a contemplative fugue.

Next book is The Cyclist.