Shamini Flint

My favorite Inspector Singh yet. If you haven’t yet heard about the Inspector Singh detective series, I recommend giving it a try. Singh is a detective with the Singapore Police with a knack for solving murders and an equal gift for irritating his superiors, often resulting in dubious foreign ‘honor’ missions. In this case, he’s been sent as a Singapore representative for a war crimes tribunal in Cambodia led by the United Nations. He’s never been to Cambodia and finds the gastronomic experience sadly lacking. When a witness is killed halfway through testimony, he finds himself working with the local police to solve the murder.

Although the cover blurb has the gall to compare it to McCall Smith’s series starring Precious Ramotswe, the two series are really quite different in philosophy. For one thing, Flint isn’t afraid to raise the emotional impact through body count. More significantly, Flint plunges right into complicated situations, particularly in this book structured around modern day after effects of the Khmer Rouge, where McCall Smith’s series tends to minimize or ignore political conflict and history.

“Chhean stood in line outside the court room, her tapping foot the only overt sign of her impatience, waiting to be ushered in by the various functionaries. The tribunal guards were dressed in light-blue shirts and heavy gold braid. She supposed this fondness for colourful costumes was a subconscious effort to forget the days when authority had worn black collarless pyjamas and red chequered kramas. If only it were so easy to dress up or disguise the past.”

The story opens with a flashback: a young girl watches her father taken in the middle of the night by men of the Khmer Rouge, and what happens when she surreptitiously follows them. Narrative then shifts to focus primarily on Singh, but also brief interludes of an assortment of others, including Colonel Menday, one of the few honest members of the Cambodian police; Gaudin, an elderly, tormented Frenchman; and Chhean, an adult orphan. While appearances may be brief, we get enough complexity of each to appreciate their struggles. The hero, Singh is quite human–an imperfect, frequently slovenly one–with a belief in justice who is often moved to compassion despite his cynicism. In short, identifiable. His sidekick, Chhean, is a dogged Cambodian journalist who is often assigned ‘odd jobs’ and spends her spare time researching old records for hints of her missing family. Intelligent, determined, focused; she was a perfect foil for Singh.

Storytelling was fascinating as it went from murder mystery, to the search for missing loved ones, and in the background deaths of former Khmer Rouge trying to live out their lives in anonymity. The setting contained the wonderful variety in most countries, from tourism-centered villages to officious administrative offices to rural landscape. I appreciated the diversity of places and people that covered, given that it’s a relatively quick detective novel.

I make no secret of the fact that I generally like my reading escapist; with a heart wounded regularly in real life by the deaths of lovely people and compassion stretched by attempting to help people that can’t help themselves, I strongly prefer happy endings and likeable characters. I was somewhat apprehensive starting this one; I knew of the Cambodian killing fields only generally, and was concerned the book might overwhelm. It turned out to be wonderfully balanced for me, mystery and sub-mystery woven through with an education in a country I know almost nothing about, and an exploration of the legacy of citizenship in such a country.

Four and a half stars, rounding up because entertainment and education.… (more)

Yikes! So close to the end of the Inspector Singh series, and stalking checking out the website for Ms. Flint makes it clear that self-promotion isn't in her wheelhouse. Hope that means she's busy writing the next Singh mystery, a series that is a more modern and culturally aware take of a Piroit-style investigation.

I found this to be one of the more solid entries in the Inspector Singh series. Poor Inspector: forced to take a medical leave of absence after the calamitous ending of the last book, his wife has the perfect activity to prevent him from rattling around the house--attending a family wedding in India. Not close family, mind you, so the reader is introduced in bits and pieces to some of the concepts of family in India and acceptable social roles. Alas, by the time they arrive, the bride has disappeared during her traditional pre-wedding house arrest seclusion. When her elder brother Tanvir identifies a badly burned body as his sister, it looks like she committed suicide. But her grandfather would like to know why, so Inspector Singh is placed on the case.

As in the other Singh books, Flint deftly weaves in bits of social and cultural commentary, giving the reader the flavor of the setting, and the ways it plays into Inspector Singh's investigation. Really, it's a fascinating concept for a series--what is 'crime' in each country, and what does policing and 'justice' look like? I thought this story was nicely fleshed out, and slightly less farcical in regards to the Inspector's bursting shirt buttons and his skinny, bossy wife. There's a fascinating juxtaposition between one of the local slums and the pristine nearby factory. I appreciate that Flint doesn't hit her readers over the head with moral judgements, although this book comes close when it looks at life in the slum.

There was somewhat of a surprise with the ultimate solution, but the set-up behind it was obvious from the beginning. One thing about the series that continues to puzzle me is how Singh is referred to as an amazing detective, yet execution of the investigation usually seems haphazard and more subject to circumstance than the little grey cells or leaving no stone unturned. Plotting here was a little smoother. Overall, it's a series I enjoy, certainly worthy of borrowing from my library friends. I'll be sad to see the series end.

A solid three and a half rupees, rounding up.… (more)

The head of a prestigious law firm is discovered by his partners when they arrive for a mysterious, late-night meeting. The building is locked with key-card entry, so it seems likely that the killer is one of the people called to the meeting. But perhaps it could have been his new wife, a former maid in need of money? So begins The Singapore School of Villainy, with a classic murder scenario with a limited pool of suspects. Instead of the nebulous trouble in Bali in the former novel, this allows Flint to focus on character-building, including giving the reader their first glimpse at the formidable Mrs. Singh.

With the prominent case, Singh's chief detective gives him a whole squad of officers to help with footwork, a waste as far as Singh is concerned, although it does mean he won't have to use foot power or scuff his bright white sneakers. He's also given the services of Fong, who is hoping to learn from the greatest but feels like he is more often reduced to waitstaff. I missed more details of the Singapore setting; I understood the issues with Singapore politics and the desire for law and order, but it lacked much of a sense of the physical, perhaps because of the limitations to the law firm. The mystery was solid, although Inspector Singh often seems to come by solutions through no work of his own.

What holds me back from loving it, however, is the general unlikability of almost everyone here, including the Inspector. With Hercule Poirot, one has perhaps a sense of his comic mustache, his rotund stomach, his mannerisms, but at least he is usually competent and occasionally kind to the suspects. Here, well--let me just say that the descriptions don't feel as fond, and perhaps there is too much of the negative without balancing concern. For instance, I was kind of surprised that Singh would care at all about his chief learning of a relative visiting for dinner; Singh is usually blatantly disrespectful, so it seems incongruous and passes up a chance for him to positively connect with family and tweak his superior's nose. Much of the humor comes from laughing (if one does) at character foibles, embarrassing situations (food on a tie or Inspector huffing up the stairs), and mocking the Inspector's superior, Chen, rather than witty dialogue.

Overall, enjoyable with solid mystery plotting in an interesting setting. I'll just have to make sure I leaven the reads with more positively heroic characters in between.

Three and a half stars.… (more)