It’s WWII, and the Nazis, needing a mid-Mediterranean air base to attack Africa, are bombing the daylights out of the tiny island of Malta, which is being defended by the Allies.
Meanwhile, at the officer’s club and in private parlors, stiff drinks and stiff upper lips prevail, affairs flourish and wane and siege humor colors the dialog. It’s all too, too Graham Greene.
Max Chadwick is the British information officer (PR guy) trying to bolster the locals with cheery tales of incidental heroism while covering up news of a serial killer preying on young women: a killer who may well be one of the Brits’ own.
Mills effectively mixes history with some well-drawn fictional characters. He’s less effective as a mystery writer. The clues didn’t draw an inevitable net tighter and tighter around the killer. The conclusion felt more like, “Oops, time to end this book. Here’s who done it.”
Tags: british, information officer, mark mills
