Ruth Rendell. Harm Done. (Hutchinson, £16.99 in UK)
The new Chief Inspector Wexford novel from Ruth Rendell is concerned with two rather topical matters, domestic violence and the release of a convicted paedophile back into society. As always, the locale is the satellite town of Kingsmarkham and the usual cast of characters features Wexford himself, detectives Mike Burden and Lynn Fancourt, Wexford's wife Dora and his daughters Sylvia and Sheila: familiar figures in a series that has become as comfortable as slippers, pipe and a good brandy before a flickering fire on a winter night.
The story begins with our hero investigating the disappearance of 16-year-old Lizzie Cromwell, who inexplicably reappears as abruptly as she left. A short time later another young woman goes absent without leave, then also turns up, but without being able to account for her disappearance. The residents of a local estate are up in arms about the release of a child molester; Sylvia Wexford comes to work in a refuge for battered women called The Hide; and then a brutal murder is perpetrated. The Chief Inspector, stolid and reliable as always, plods determinedly through the mess until a resolution is achieved. Hooray for Wexford, hooray for Rendell.
Dick Francis. Second Wind. (Michael Joseph, £16.99 in UK)
Dick Francis is another professional who knows how to lull his readers with the recognisable and the au courant; Second Wind being more of the same from a writer who has penned some 40 novels since he first began in 1957. Well, maybe not exactly the same, as this one does not depend entirely on a racing background. Instead it is concerned with the devastation wrought by a hurricane in the Caribbean, and the long-term effect it has on the quiet and orderly life of TV meteorologist Perry Stuart. Perry was offered the hurricane-chasing ride in a small plane as a holiday diversion, but soon finds himself deeply involved in insider trading and an attempt to infect a large part of the population with Mad Cow Disease. The downside here is Francis's stilted prose and cardboard characters, the upside his ability to tell a rattling good yarn. You pays your money . . .
Patricia Cornwell. Black Notice. (Little Brown, £16.99 in UK)
As usual, prolific Patricia Cornwell's latest offering features Dr Kay Scarpetta, chief medical examiner for the state of Virginia, her niece Agent Lucy Farinelli, and police officer Pete Marino. While Lucy is off in Miami helping to bring down a notorious drug cartel, Kay and Pete are investigating the discovery of a decomposed body found in the hold of a cargo ship recently arrived from Belgium. The victim's personal effects and an odd tattoo lead the twosome to the Interpol headquarters in Lyon, where they receive information about a vast criminal conspiracy. Chased back home by the arch villain, Kay is only saved from a fate worse than death by the cavalry-style arrival of Lucy. Cornwell is the favoured taste of millions of readers. I myself find her bland and indigestion-inducing, but who am I to demur, among so many who concur?
Robert Crais. L.A. Requiem. (Orion Paperback Original, £9.99 in UK)
Robert Crais is a thriller writer I like. His sequence of novels featuring Los Angeles private eye Elvis Cole are holding up very well over seven previous volumes. In his eighth, L.A. Requiem, Cole's partner, the enigmatic Joe Pike, is re-visited by his turbulent past and ends up being the chief suspect in a series of killings. This is Crais's most ambitious novel to date, a big book that juggles aspects of friendship, trust and love against a background of violence and conspiracy. At the same time it remains true to the private-eye genre in the figure of its protagonist, Cole - a basically honest and forthright man traversing mean streets in search of some type of redemption. I'd recommend this one highly.
Sue Grafton. O is for Outlaw. (Macmillan Paperback Original, £9.99 in UK)
Sue Grafton is another old hand, her series of alphabet titles now having arrived at "O": O is for Outlaw featuring her private detective, Kinsey Millhone, who is as nature-hating, fast-food loving and sassy as ever. In this one she comes across a hoard of her early memorabilia and in it discovers an undelivered letter that leads her to re-think the break-up of her first marriage. It also results in the uncovering of an old, unresolved murder, which in turn ends up threatening both her and her ex-husband's lives. Grafton is a delight to read, her books being highly literate, with believable plots and three-dimensionally drawn characters. If you haven't come across her before, then O is for Outlaw is a good one with which to start.
Frederic Lindsay. Idle Hands. (Hodder & Stoughton, £16.99 in UK)
Frederic Lindsay is a Scottish thriller writer who deserves to come out from under the shadow of Ian Rankin. His latest is Idle Hands, and once more features Edinburgh-based Detective Inspector Jim Meldrum. Murdered businessman Iain Bower, having lived abroad for many years and only recently returned to Edinburgh, appears to have had few friends and no enemies. That is until a man turns up at his funeral, urinates into the open grave and then runs away. It is up to Meldrum to uncover the sinister secrets surrounding Bower's past, secrets that have lain dormant for more than 30 years. And these same past events, once brought to light, threaten to destroy the very solidity of Meldrum's own existence in the form of a doppelganger who is going about interviewing witnesses and generally messing up the case. A most satisfying and chilling read.
Michael Painter is a writer and critic