“Adamsberg was not a man who went in for emotion: he skirted around strong feelings with caution, like swifts who only brush past windows with their wings, never going in, because they know it will be difficult to get out. He had often found dead birds in the village houses back home, imprudent visitors who had ventured inside and never again found their way back to the open air. Adamsberg considered that when it came to love, humans were no wiser than birds.”
Another in the Commissaire Adamsberg series, this tale begins in London, where Adamsberg, Danglard and Estalere are at in international conference. Wouldn’t you know it, they are on the scene when over a dozen shoes, with feet still in them, show up outside Highgate Cemetary. Sure, it’s creepy but not on their turf. Or is it?
I hesitate to give too much of the story away, it seems even giving out harmless details would be spoilerific. I will say this; yes there are vampires but they aren’t the sparkly goth kind. And it’s okay, it folds into the story well. Like any other Adamsberg adventure, there are coincidences galore, so if you’ve got an aversion to that sort of thing, maybe this isn’t the series for you. What you do get is smart and savvy writing, with real living breathing characters who are more than their little idiosyncrasies as the books progress. I always look forward to delving more into the lives of those in the Serious Crime Squad, as well as the ever growing circle of contacts and family. I was happy to see more of his neighbor Lucio, an elderly survivor of the Spanish Civil War, Professor Louvoisier (“Like the Chemist!” he infallibly would say) and Veyrenc.
Then there’s Adamsberg himself. I think I feel such an affinity for him because I tend to be a wooly-headed cloud shoveller, too. He’s the anti-Sherlock, almost, and I find that refreshing.
