Deception

People, the prologue stating that the author got the book in manuscript form from the protagonist (or from a dusty attic, or a secondhand shop) is a literary device that goes back at least as far as Gulliver's Travels. It is used frequently in novels of detection, especially historical detective fiction. One of the best examples is the Amelia Peabody series by the marvelous Elizabeth Peters. Anybody literate enough to read the book is supposed to be in on the joke.

I'm befuddled by other people's reaction to this book. I thought it was terrific. In the first place, I'm reasonably certain that Lachlan Harriot is Ms. Mina's creation. She just wrote it in diary form--something I thought really added to the story since you're experiencing it just from his point of view.

Great writing, great reading! I was sorry when it ended. It left me wanting more, more of Denise Mina's novels. Even though many may figure out the mystery long before the story ends, the reader's ultimate satisfaction comes in the last four pages. Now that is a comely achievement for any writer. The rare honesty of depicting very human and not always lovable, or even partially likable characters, is a great gift for a writer to possess. Ms. Mina has it in spades!

Denise Mina's novel Deception purports to be a transcription of a diary written by Lachlan Harriot, the 29-year-old husband of convicted murderess Dr. Susie Harriot. Lachlan begins the diary on the day his wife is convicted of murdering Andrew Gow, a serial killer with whom she had worked closely in her capacity as his court-appointed psychologist. Lachlan's diary is in part a record of his attempt to uncover the truth behind Gow's murder--he cannot believe his wife is guilty. It includes his transcriptions of the newspaper accounts and other documents pertaining to the case that his wife had squirreled away in her private--padlocked--study. At the same time the diary records Lachlan's attempts to cope with normal life in the months following his wife's conviction--the mothers at his daughter's day care center conspicuously friendly, an "elderly triumvirate" of relatives making a show of their support by coming to stay with him--uninvited, unwelcome, and ultimately unhelpful. (Lachlan is kicked out of his bathroom one evening by Susie's aunt, who cannot find the other bathrooms in his house. "It is not without a frisson of compensatory pleasure that I stood on the landing, holding my limp newspaper, and watched her lock herself in with the rank stench of my lower intestines.") In the course of the period covered by his diary, Lachlan eventually comes to understand the riddle of Gow's murder and of his wife's strange, secretive behavior. It is a mystery that will keep readers engrossed and guessing until the book's final pages. Mina's Deception is a smart, well-written thriller. Highly recommended. Reviewed by Debra Hamel, author of Trying Neaira: The True Story of a Courtesan's Scandalous Life in Ancient Greece

After her Glaswegian mean-streets trilogy ("Garnethill," "Exile," "Resolution"), Scottish award-winning author Mina turns to the diary form and the bourgeoisie to deliver a dark, discomfiting tale of murder and obsession. Lachlan Harriott, 29, is the distraught husband of ambitious psychologist Susan Harriot, newly found guilty of the brutal slaying of Andrew Gow, a convicted serial killer and former client of hers at a prison for the criminally insane. Gow had been released after the killings resumed while he was in prison, casting doubt on his guilt. The diary begins the day of Susan's conviction. Lachlan, convinced of her innocence and determined to find something to exonerate her, smashes the heavy lock on her study door and helps himself to her computer. Almost immediately he happens on secrets that shake his confidence. He remembers how in love they were, her more than him even, and wonders how things got to this pass, where she tells him nothing, and won't even look at him in court where she's portrayed as Gow's scorned lover. "She was my sweet, soft-hearted Susie, and then, quite suddenly, she was someone else." Lachlan, a doctor and would-be writer who gave up his career at the birth of their daughter 19 months earlier, may have been clueless where his wife was concerned, but he has full control of this narrative. Truth, objectivity, deception and self-deception are elusive from the beginning, and more so as he explores the darkest corners of his marriage and pieces together a new puzzle picture of the murder. He digresses at will, obsessing about his image in the papers, and enjoying the pitying flirtations of the mothers at his daughter's nursery school. He rants and whines, and gorges himself on sweets and self-pity. He flays himself open on the page, and then admits to agonizing over sentence structure as if crafting a story for posterity. We sympathize with his plight and his passion while we cringe at his venality and passive-aggressive self-absorption. Lachlan is utterly, nakedly human and his compelling voice drives the narrative to a stunning, fitting conclusion. Claustrophobic and insightful, this is probably too creepy to be Mina's breakout book, but it adds to her considerable reputation.