It’s a grisly subject, as JK Rowling herself admits. Her third novel as Robert Galbraith is all about legs — or, rather, the lack of them. Our hero, the private eye Cormoran Strike, had one of his blown off while serving in Afghanistan. Career of Evil begins when his feisty female sidekick Robin Ellacott receives a parcel with the severed leg of a young woman.
The plot is strewn with characters whose desire it is to have a leg amputated. Other bits of the body play a part, as does sexual violence, but it’s legs that dominate.
Is this the Galbraith who wrote two enjoyable, rollicking, upbeat stories of murder in the worlds of fashion and publishing, in The Cuckoo’s Calling and The Silkworm? Has he turned into yet another purveyor of bleak, savage and and noir? Strangely, no.
The crimes in Career of Evil may be far more gory, the villainous behaviour nastier and the depths of depravity deeper. Yet the overall mood remains much the same as in the earlier novels. In spite of all the blood spilled and mental cruelty inflicted, the reader does not turn the last page disgusted or disturbed.
Somehow, Galbraith manages to marry his descent into dark corners with a general atmosphere of geniality. He cannot help creating characters, or circumstances, that he can poke fun at, or at least treat with levity. The continuing saga of Robin’s ever-changing relationship with Matthew, her pompous, self-important, mother-reliant fiancé, is an example. Matthew may be almost a caricature, but their movement towards and away from marriage runs in delightful parallel to the grim essence of the plot. An added pleasure is Galbraith’s filling out of the main characters, only sketched in the previous novels.
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Strike realises immediately that the severed leg, though addressed to Robin, is aimed at him. He recognises the obscure threat accompanying the limb as coming from a song by the American rock and metal band Blue Öyster Cult. (The group’s gloomy lyrics, many written by Patti Smith, not only provide the book’s title but introduce chapters and are often quoted in the text.) Only three men from his past, Strike believes, have reason to hate him with such a passion. One of them had married Striker’s mother, who was famous in the Sixties for her rampant promiscuity; another blamed him for his long stretch in prison; the third held him responsible for his serious illness. All are violent psychopaths.
Strike fears, correctly, that whichever one it is will try to get him by targeting Robin. The core of the action is his search for the three suspects to determine the guilty one. He seeks to protect Robin, but his stubborn assistant refuses to be cosseted and insists on placing herself in danger. The denouement is violent, unexpected and satisfying.
In an afterword to the novel, Rowling writes: “I can’t remember ever enjoying writing a novel more than Career of Evil.” It shows, and that enjoyment is passed on to the reader. That raises a question for the future. The mix of realism and demi-noir with lightness and humour worked for this entertaining novel. But I wonder if it can be a lasting formula.
Career of Evil by Robert Galbraith, 512 pages,£20 (Sphere). To order for £18 including postage visit thetimes.co.uk/bookshop or call The Times Bookshop on 0845 2712134