Books: Mysteries That Bloom in Spring

(4 of 4)

Death of an Expert Witness by P.D. James (Scribner's; $8.95). Since James, 57, is English and a woman, she is frequently hailed as a worthy successor to Christie, Sayers, Margery Allingham and Ngaio Marsh. James' knowledge of locale (in this case, East Anglia's murky, misty fen country) and contemporary mores (some pretty kinky), her familiarity with forensic science (which is what Expert's plot is mostly about) and keen psychological insight, all mark her as an original. Her seventh and best mystery novel brings back Scotland Yard's Adam Dalgliesh, who writes offbeat poetry.

The Enemy by Desmond Bagley (Doubleday; $7.95). One of Europe's bestselling suspense writers concocts drama of genetic manipulation, incidental assassination, government machination and Russian marination. Bagley, 54, who knows his computers and test tubes, is equally at home with his locales (England and Sweden, in this book) and his personae, who can be both touching and tough. The Bagleyan denouement raises his novel from mere artifice to the artful.

Waxwork by Peter Lovesey (Pantheon; $7.95). Lovesey's mysteries are set in late 19th century London, which in too many other authors' hands now seems exclusively Sherlockian. He writes with accurate verbal and social perception about the upper and lower reaches of Victorian sanctimony and contrivance. Waxwork, 41-year-old Lovesey's eighth novel, is at once charming, chilling and as convincing as if his tale had unfolded in the "Police Intelligence" column of April 1888.

The Baby Sitters by John Salisbury (Atheneum; $9.95). John Salisbury is the well-guarded nom de plume of a fortyish British historian, political writer and playwright—which adds spice to his first political thriller right from page 1. It is the story of an Orwellian attempt (in 1981) to turn Britain into a fascist state, led by a fanatical Muslim group riding high on Arab oil and abetted by some of England's leading politicians. The conspiracy is defused by Bill Ellison, a brilliant Fleet Street digger whose investigative team resembles the London Sunday Times's muckraking groups. Salisbury gives his improbable tale crackling credibility—and is already working on a sequel.

Talon by James Coltrane (Bobbs-Merrill; $8.95). In his first suspense novel, James Coltrane—in real life a Hawaii-based lawyer named James P. Wohl, 41—shows himself a young master of the medium. His antihero, Joe Talon, is a superefficient analyst of satellite photos for the CIA in Manhattan. He is also an unrepentantly laid-back hankerer for the surf-and-grass California scene. When Talon detects a curious and erroneous—or doctored?—cloud cover masking a remote area of Nepal, he bucks the Establishment to prove his suspicions, survives sundry assassination attempts and blows open a nasty conspiracy within the Company. He also manages a rather touching love affair and some motorcycle exploits worthy of Evel Knievel.

−Michael Demarest