the alfmeister

a figment of reality's imagination

Archive for the tag “crime”

Book Review; Outrage by Arnaldur Indridason


Icelandic crime, probably not what I ever expected to pick up from the library, but with the wife waiting (im)patiently in the car I pretty ouch grabbed the first thing that looked interesting off the shelf.

And good job.

While trying to get my tongue around some of the Icelandic names (Bjork sounds normal by comparison), and the suspect being figured out in good time, this book is a pretty good read, and by all accounts the guy writes a few of them.

The opening surrounds a young bloke in a bar picking up a girl but slipping a drug into her drink. Next scene he is found dead, wearing the girl’s shirt and with his pants around his ankles…startling to those investigating, he has consumed the same date-rape drug found in his pockets.

A female officer in charge of the case, Elinborg battles her owns issues with her growing kids and laid back husband while trying to track down what seems like a straightforward suspect. Surely the girl who had sex with this guy is responsible, either wittingly or otherwise in the death that has the attention of the small country.

The story takes you through the countryside, to small towns that have the feel of red-neck USA and provides an insight into the life of one of the world’s more remote civilizations and their view of the rest of the world, and themselves.

Date-rape cannot be the easiest crime to write when  one thinks that half of the story (the one drugged) barely has something to say but Indridason does well, although one had to wonder about the continued cooking references which at first seemed to be page fillers rather than part of the plot.

Nevertheless, an easy book to read (and no, your Icelandic will not get any better) and well written plot. The outcome was a little expected, simple for another term, and also had an air of trying to complete a story in quick time rather than better explain motive and the aftermath.


In Rebuttal…

Yours truly, as a result of a dedicated diet removed of anything mineral, vegetable, and animal...i.e. McDonald's...

Yours truly (right), as a result of a dedicated diet removed of anything mineral, vegetable, and animal…i.e. McDonald’s…

Yesterday I had the pleasure to read the blog of an equally cynical mind, although I suspect he is of the ilk that has really yet come to sample the bitter sting of ‘real life’ being a mere student (Law, no less!)…however, he has earned credible stripes from working part-time in a bottley (for our non-Antipodean followers a bottley is a place where you buy over-priced piss).

…he claimed he had ‘solved the world’s problems’, so sporting the Staff of Angst and wearing inappropriate swimming gear I dived right in…as I am almost bound by contractual agreement to say; you’re wrong…in part.

Like yourself I have been known to pick on the fatties too, let’s face it, its easy, and last week when a portly Duncan Garner debated the feasibility of a ‘fat-tax’ I duly made up a bowl of popcorn, opened a fresh 1.5l of Coke, and wedged myself into the bum-imprint ingrained into my comfy sofa to mock and hiss as most Kiwis do…where no one can argue back.

While the masses argue gay marriage and Mighty River Power, the endemic (or could it be classed as pandemic?) problem of obesity is growing at an alarming rate (excuse the pun) and I for one find it disgusting that little is being done about it. The future effects it will have on our health and benefit’s infrastructure always has me pausing for effect before digging into that Family Bucket from KFC.

...and after three week's of a Government-sponsored fat tax...**Actual p[picture may vary considerably from the truth**

…and after three week’s of a Government-sponsored fat tax…
**Actual picture may vary considerably from the truth**

It has been mooted we ‘plug them into the national grid’ as a replenishable natural resource. OK, fair enough, but that would require special ‘fat farms’ made up of unqualified Asian surgeons liposucting the fuel from hordes of fat fucks which immediately throws up a flaw; to get to one of these clinics would require fat pricks to get off their collective fat arses to attend.

Personally, a fat tax is a good start.

…on being fat, and eating shit-fat-inducing food. Why should McD’s rope in all the cash? Time for the John Key/Bill English puppet show to combat the ‘nanny-state’ thinking of the left-wing bleeding hearts.

I pay ‘additional’ taxes on my booze, on my smokes, and on my carbon-footprint nightmare Ford Fairlane…so why stop there?

Any sane individual insures his car, insurance firms have made a living out of me due to the fear of not being insured , and someday a politician will be smart enough to make vehicle insurance mandatory, and an alternative solution to obesity lies within. Let’s enforce a compulsory life and medical insurance on chubsters. State, AMI, Vero, particularly good at extorting cash for no good return, please take on the cash crop that is diabetes and other fatty-fatty-boomstick related illnesses…

The Mayor for Porirua ( local body leader of the second largest population of fatties in the country, possibly)  claims such taxes would put the cost of fast food beyond the reach of the lower socio-economic…ummmm, why the hell are they eating at KFC and McD’s anyway? I would suggest they couldn’t/shouldn’t afford it anyway and I guess I do feel for them, what with their Sky bill, car payments on that new HSV, while renting out the state-owned garage to eight illegal can be a burden…

…can I be the first to congratulate Air Samoa on their recent charges implementation…mind you, a good way to alienate about 90% of your native population.

…and from such beginnings comes crime. While I don’t have the hard facts on it, it would come as no surprise to me (if it were in fact true) that the lower socio-economic, KFC-chaffing fatsos are probably tied up in some nefarious crime or another, be it benefit fraud, dope growing, pimping their kids on the streets, or wearing leggings in public.

jonestownJono The BARsTewARD makes a valid point of relocating the criminal element to the distant Auckland Islands. As a person who has been lucky enough to travel to the cold dark recesses of hell I nevertheless feel that shifting rapists and murderers there will only be of a disadvantage to the local fauna. Surely having the native pig population gang-raped by our dregs is not a nice outcome, well certainly not to the pigs…

Certainly just the name Auckland itself becomes a  deterrent, like Alcatraz, Sing Sing and the like, and with that I suggest we just keep them there, in Auckland…

…if its good enough for Bishop Tamaki…



Book Review; Hit Girls by Dreda Say Mitchell

images-55I have enjoyed Martina Cole’s books now and again over the years, a strangely successful mix of female stubbornness clashing with East End crime which has resulted in some of the most graphically violent and disturbing novels I have read. So when I picked up this book and Cole herself has praised the writing of Mitchell I just had to read it, the question being could someone really write in the same genre and be as good/successful at it?

For the greater part of the book, yes, it was on a par with Cole and I found it gripping to read, however, and as is the case with a lot of crime fiction, the hero or heroine seems to take on an almost invincible, Superman type aura which is probably far from the truth, but then, what would I know about the crime world?

Twin sisters are literally mowed down outside their school, and a third boy is badly injured as the vehicle speeds away…the girls are the daughters of the local crime kingpin, Stan Lewis, the boy the son of Jackie and ‘Schoolboy’, seemingly reformed gangsters and so starts a battle of words and bodies as a mix of investigation and revenge hits the streets.

The story follows the same old premise of control of the streets and in this case it was obvious that suspicion would fall onto an up-and-coming rival and the same old ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ mentality takes place while the Police are powerless (as usual) to do anything.

Meanwhile, a misfit foursome of girls (one being the mum of the injured boy, one being an ex-African mercenary, one being an old tranny) do their own investigation into the killings which of course turns up more information than any Police force is capable of…even the all-powerful gangster Stan Lewis hasn’t got these contacts and just beats the living shit out of everyone…this is where the story slowly started dying a painful death for me.

The whole way through Mitchell drops hints at who the possible killer is with witnesses and informers, but in an amateurish methodology she closed off each with each lead being killed off in any gruesome method that took her fancy. The ending is a myriad of surprises, some coming completely out of left field, others blatantly obvious from the outset, however to me it seemed such a huge revelation that it was immediately unbelievable and completely wasted what had been a pretty good book until then.

Unfortunately I can’t rate Mitchell anywhere near being in the same field as Cole and to this extent I again question the (endless!!!) plaudits Mitchell feels obliged to print all over her book (from memory the first three pages are just self-satisfying reviews) whether anyone had actually read it before commenting…

While nowhere near as bad as my favourite punching bag, Richard Laymon, I normally do the writer some justice in at least reading another book in case  I had stumbled upon an off-day, however in seeing her other titles I don’t think I will be searching out another Mitchell book.

Book Review; Escaping Daddy by Maria Landon

images-54I have read a few Martina Coles novels, and recently (as you will see in a review) other books on East End’s notorious crime world, but to read it in a bio was particularly disturbing, especially when the main plot surrounds a young girl abused by a drunk father, and then forced into tricks on the street by him as well when just thirteen…and this being known by ll and sundry, including the constabulary.

The blurb on the back cover sets the scene….

This story is hard to put down, yet very hard to hold on to as you follow this young girl’s plight coming from a family many of us could never dream existed, and then her brave battle to escape the life on the streets, and ultimately the fight to stop loving her dad altogether. Yep, you heard right, despite everything he did, Maria loved her dad, and this book (seemingly the second she wrote) tells of the battle she endured to sever permanently the love and respect she had for him.

We often hear of ‘vicious cycles’ within these dysfunctional family groups and this book is confirmation of the issues society faces in breaking them, starting with a blind eye from social services and the Police, through to friends and acquaintances who don’t step up, but only make it worst. Maria herself seemed to drift from one shitty relationship to another, in the process producing a couple of kids herself, however it is a tribute to her that she did sort of break away from history to put her kids above everything else…

I won’t give to much away on this one, it should be read to believe it, and in fact you should read her first book first (which I will soon) “Daddy’s Little Earner” which in the title alone sends a chill through you. From a negative point of view the book is poorly written, or narrated at times which becomes a distraction as my mounting frustration at her constant reminding us of her past (OK! We get it, it is not something we will forget) as well as touching on her self-blame and blame aimed at others. Yes, she has a right to do so, but it felt like every bloody paragraph ended with “if only my mum hadn’t walked out”, or “if only dad hadn’t abused me”, or “if only I had been stronger”…yes, while we are traumatised as much as you, your obvious attempts at fishing for sympathy are annoying…

Good book, but not in a good way.

Neighbours from Hell? Not sure which one I feel more sorry for…


I might burn for this one, but had to do it.

I cannot believe The Maori Party can be so hypocritical when it comes to the rehabilitation of criminals…if they’re Maori it seems it’s OK to let them back into society. But a white fella? Especially one who is about to move in next door to you?

“Do as I say, not as I do, right?”

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