Another former law enforcement person — in Australia — who has left the force and is now a ….. wait for it ……. blacksmith in some tiny back of beyond town. Let me see — there was one who was a falconer, and one who was …. oh crumb, I forget. But they never seem to just leave the force and get a job as a bartender or truck driver. They all seem to take up some nifty occupation.
What I did know was that all the self-respect that I had lost with one bad judgment had been slowly given back to me by my ordinary life in my father’s house. A simple life in a simple weatherboard house. Working with my father’s tools in my father’s workshop.
Well, Mac Faraday, our smithy, is called on by the grandson of his older friend, to find the man hanging in his barn. Mac is sure that the guy is not the suicide type, and gets to sniffing around, although the local police do seem to be doing a good job.
What comes to light is a girls reform school, yeah, way out here in the boonies, that is still in operation. When a skeleton is found in an abandoned mine shaft, things start to fizz around. What could be the connection between the suicide of an old man and the body in a mine shaft.
Mac is a smart guy, and persistent, and after poking around, stirs the interest of some darker forces. This is never a good thing.
“Have you noticed,’ she said, ‘that evil people have a kind of force about them? A kind of independence? It’s a very powerful thing to have. It’s a stillness, an absence of doubt, an indifference to the world. It draws people to them. the moral vacuum sucks people in. The weak go to the strong.”
I like this writer, I like his style, I like his characters and his plots. I have a couple more of his books to read. But if you want to know what I thought of a couple of his other books, just put in Peter Temple in the search box. I am too lazy to give you links today. Some days are like that. Some days you can just click, and other days you have to do a little work.