Robin Vicary takes us back to 1974 in The Society of Intelligent Murderers. After a trial that makes the police look very bad for ignoring the family of a murdered woman, a small team of police detectives is assembled to review the deaths and disappearances of women who may have been killed by their husbands. A quick overview of the facts in each case makes it clear that it’s going to take someone very smart to catch a trio who might have been studying Agatha Christie their entire lives.
Rainham is a gifted detective troubled by his wife’s declining health. She suffers from Alzheimer’s or something like it and Harry often runs home during the day to check in on her. He’d really prefer to retire, but his friend and boss offers him desk duty reviewing three cases so that Harry can keep drawing a paycheck. What really tempts Harry (apart from being able to stick close to home) is the complexity of the cases under review. The deaths and disappearances (two bodies have not been found) are troubling but it’s hard at first to point to any clear signs of wrongdoing. They’re the kind of cases that would be hard to solve even if Harry and his small team (three women: two detectives and a secretary with uncanny access to information) had full access to modern forensics and Britain’s surveillance network.
Unusually for a mystery novel, there is no single perpetrator in The Society of Intelligent Murderers and nothing links the crimes. Harry and his team have to bounce back and forth between cases as they alternately make progress or hit dead ends. It’s a little dizzying to read but I enjoyed the cleverness of the (nearly) perfect murders Vicary created for his detectives. What I enjoyed less was how Vicary leaned into the casual sexism of the 1970s (I was occasionally reminded of the original version of Life on Mars); it creates a sense of the period, sure, but it’s overused—there should’ve been more slapped faces.
The end of The Society of Intelligent Murderers wraps up all the loose ends in a surprisingly brutal fashion that seems like it comes out of left field—I say seems because, on reflection, I was lulled into a false sense of security by the calmness and methodicalness of the murderers in this book. I should’ve realized what might happen if you back a killer into a corner. I’m not entirely satisfied with the end of this book but I will recommend it to fans of seemingly-impossible crimes (who can also handle all the open lechery).