Seeing through the smoke

How crime organizes the world

An old man lives at the bottom of my garden. His name is Robert Barkus, or Bakehouse, or Bagust. Nobody is quite sure. But I often sense him around when I’m gardening, and I’ve found out a fair bit ab

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Oh, the joy of curling up on a winter’s afternoon to immerse oneself in a compelling crime novel or TV drama featuring victims and sleuths. The story will be set in a picturesque, seemingly safe place

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What revealed the magic of books for me was The Wind in the Willows. When I was five, I contracted measles, which meant I had to spend my days in bed in a darkened room. My mother sat outside my bedro