The Devil's Home on Leave (Derek Raymond, 1984)

Simply loved He Died with His Eyes Open, so I expected something special, but this one still caught me unprepared. Insane stuff. It breaks almost every crime-writing rule!

It begins with the shortest chapter I have ever read. Check this:

I knocked at a second-floor flat in a dreary house, one of two hundred in a dreary Catford street.
After a while I heard steps the other side of the door. "McGruder?"
"Who's that?" said a man's voice. "Who wants him?"
"I do," I said. "Open up. Police."

And that's it. Bang! I was sucked in!

What follows is a discovery of the body of a guy killed in such a gruesome manner that even Herschell Gordon Lewis would be proud of it. Poor bastard had been killed with a humane killer (needle-gun used for cattle slaughtering) and then boiled (!??!!!), bled out, his teeth were totally smashed, he was dismembered, and finally, his remains were put in several shopping bags. WTF!?

But if you think this is going to be yet another standard serial psycho-killer chase formulaic thriller, think again. Because pretty soon, our nameless sergeant discovers (without much of an investigation btw - it's just "practice and instinct") who the killer is, and the cat-and-mouse game can begin. But things start to go a bit odd even before that - the chronological narration, which states specific dates (it starts on April 14th, btw), gets abandoned almost immediately, as well as the sidekick-like character of an investigating reporter. Like I said, the usual rules are intentionally broken to mislead the reader.

Lots of stuff happens afterwards, and the whole thing culminates in some weird political espionage involving Russians and the UK defence minister. The ending is excellent too, and (surprise, surprise) unexpected. Without revealing too much, let's say that crime sometimes does pay.

But of course, this is as far from whodunit as it can possibly be. It's about the struggle between good and evil, the sense of justice, humanity, authority (I liked the touch about his boss being reduced to just a voice over the phone), power and its abuse (the defence minister is a gambler and a pervert), remorse, dealing with guilt, and more.

And who the hell needs a coherent story anyways when you read something so very stylish and authentic (see the dictionary in the 'cool lines' section), violent, noir-ish, hard-boiled (police brutality in the 20th chapter!), with such an interesting hero protagonist and totally insane villain?

It has to be said, it's also highly morbid (see the body count section), bleak and disturbing, so I wouldn't recommend it to everyone. But to me, it was a total thrill, I simply couldn't stop reading it!

5/5

Facts:

Hero: 
Nameless; in his early 40s but still only detective-sergeant because "Justice is what I bother about, not rank.". Still working in the "Factory" on Poland Street in the unexplained deaths department A14. You can find him in room 205.

Location:
London

Body count:  
Violence and death are everywhere in this one, and I tried to keep the count as accurately as possible. I'm pretty sure there are 5 corpses directly related to the plot (or let's say to the plot's present time), and at least 15 are mentioned in various contexts and sub-plots: from an old woman thrown from the car (senseless killing for 70 quid of gear plus maybe a tenner) to serial killing of three (so gruesome that squatter girl who finds them dies of a heart attack) and to some random Norwegian "geezer" (who buried some young men in his garden). And let's, of course, not forget our hero's nine-year-old daughter Dalia, who was pushed under the bus by her crazy mother. 

Dames, Blackouts: 

Nope, none. And for the last time, all the standard rules are broken in this one.
 

Title: 
"Well," he said, "what do you think?"
"What I think," I said, "is that the devil's home on leave."
"What does that mean?"
"It means there's a maniac on the manor."

McGruder personifies the devil, and there are numerous references to him (or is it "it"?). And this asshole truly is one sick fuck - he gets a hard-on when he's about to kill somebody and then comes into his pants afterwards.
 
Cover: 
It's the only thing I dislike about this masterpiece. I understand the fire-walking metaphor, but there are so many more suitable motives that would do better justice to this book's unique atmosphere.

Cool lines:  
"You can't work that, you bastard!" he screamed. "There's a fucking law in this country!"
"That's right," I said, "and I'm it." [The Coolest!]


"As a copper I don't care about your privacy," I said, "your rages even less. To me you're just an operation - find 'em, nail 'em, wheel 'em in!"
"Must be dull, same operation all the time."
"You should know," I said, "you're the disease."

"You lying, self-deceiving cunt," I said, "if the money were right you'd top a handicapped child in a wheelchair, cop for the lolly and bank it. You're full of shit, piss and death, McGruder, so don't try and launder yourself with me, friend."

"Phillips is a software wizard - the sort of microchip guru who makes a British government foam with excitement, like a snooker amateur with black over the top pocket." 

Plus a few slang words I noted down. It might come in handy next time I visit London...

• doing bird - serving a prison sentence
• grass, super grass - police informer
• screw - prison guard
• topped - (contract) murder
• hot cross - jailbreak
• bag - arrest
• punter or putting the black on - blackmail
• clocking (somebody) - checking somebody out, observing
• Black Maria - the transporting vehicle for prisoners

He Died with His Eyes Open (Derek Raymond, 1984)

This one is really unusual, almost weird. Not too surprising, since I picked it up because I remembered that Derek Raymond's name was mentioned by Mark E. Smith in his hilarious autobiography, Renegade. So welcome to the wonderful and frightening world of modern British noir!

Begins as yet another police procedural with a badly beaten body found in a dark alley of the dodgy part of London. The inspector in charge of the case discovers the victim's letters and some recorded tapes (ah, good old days!) and starts searching for the bad guys using these recordings.

Kind of. Our nameless sergeant works alone, at his own pace, using some pretty unconventional methods. His sense of justice and punishment is also strange, so his character resembles more of a classical PI than a policeman. So much for the police procedural clichés - which is, btw, just fine with me.

Letters and recordings also prove not to be much evidence. In fact, they serve just as a vehicle for telling a parallel story about our unfortunate victim. Which is cool since his background is really interesting. In fact, it is so fascinating that even our nameless detective becomes more interested in the man's story than the actual crime and begins to form a mental connection with him. I think.

This continues for the better part of the novel, and then it gradually becomes increasingly bizarre. Our hero tracks down and immediately afterwards starts fucking the victim's wife. He even moves with her into her apartment because (I guess) at this point, he's already connected mentally with her dead ex, so this means he can connect to her physically. Not sure again, but they also fall in love. Or something. In any case, he seems to have figured the whole thing (crime and fucking/loving part) out, so not much of an investigation will follow. There will be a shocking and bizarre (not only metaphorically) ending, but it is not entirely unexpected or surprising. Simply because there's no way that this strange novel could finish in the classical whodunnit style.

So we have two or three stories entwined, but the whole thing is anything but a mess. Very concise, Derek Raymond knew exactly what he was trying to tell and how to convey all those stories. Great storytelling with effortless shifts from hard-boiled, violent content to more mellow, psychological drama. Bleak and depressing at times (Staniland's journey and fate), but masterfully written. Not trying to be clever with tough one-liners, but still with a fair amount of sharp black humour and slang. Not really character- or action-driven, but still tense and compelling. It loses some of its charge towards the end, but it is still immensely enjoyable.

Unique and memorable. It got under my skin a bit, and I will definitely check out other Raymond titles.

4/5

Facts:

Hero: 
Nameless sergeant. Working for the Unexplained Deaths department - A14 branch, "the most unpopular one"

Location:
London

Body count: 

2

Dames:
Barbara/Babsie - Frigid iceberg with gross psychic problems and the mind of a petty criminal.

Blackouts: 

/

Title: 
Probably refers to the poor Charles, but I honestly cannot remember whether his body was found with its eyes actually open. Doesn't really matter; it's a cool-sounding title anyway.

Cover: 
A nice and intriguing one with great artwork. Also relevant: our hero is Nameless (faceless), he smokes (see cool lines below), and the tape recorder plays a significant role in the novel.

Cool lines:  
I lit a Palace filter. It tasted revolting; I only smoke them because I hope they might help me give it up.

"Good evening to you,"  he boomed heartily. "My wife tells me you've come about my brother Charles. What has he been up to this time?"
"Well, he's gone and died," I replied.

Nice and gentle way to break the bad news, but it needs to be said, it's still not nearly as cool as Hoke did it in New Hope for the Dead.

"Well, what about him?"
"Well, he's dead."
"As if I fucking cared," he said. "Who are you, you cunt?"
"I'm a police officer," I said. "And watch your tongue. One more slip like that with it, and I'll tear it out of your head."[The Coolest!]


"Look," he said furiously, when the penny had dropped, "do you want me to come out an round an give you some manners right in the mush?"
"Yes, why not" I said. "If you've got a spare face at home."

"Well, the vehicle wasn't marked." [traffic warden]
"There's a silly reason for that," I said, taking the ticket. It's because a lot of these modern villains can read.