Fatal Isles had me reaching for the atlas, so convincing was Maria Adolfsson’s depiction of the island nation of Doggerland. Alas there is no such settlement in the North Sea. Between the coastlines of the UK and Denmark, where Doggerland should be, there is just sea.
The fictional setting of Doggerland is by far the most interesting aspect of Fatal Islands, the first title in a series featuring Detective Inspector Karen Eiken Hornby.
Having spent several years as a police officer in London, she returned to Doggerland four years earlier to become one of the few female detectives in the force. But her career has stalled. She’s overlooked when the juiciest cases are assigned; often ignored in meetings and constantly picked upon.
Karen gets her opportunity to show what she’s made of when her boss’s ex wife is found murdered in her home. His personal connection to the victim obviously means he can’t lead the investigation. So it falls to Karen to find the killer. One problem — she’d woken up that morning in a hotel room next to her boss, the result of far too many drinks marking the annual oyster festival of Oistra.
Fatal Islands is essentially a police procedural; one that progresses at a measured pace until about the final third of the book. It uses a tried and tested formula. A detective who clashes with her boss and is threatened she’ll be taken off the case if she doesn’t buck up her ideas. Against all advice she follows her instinct and is ultimately proved right.
One day I’d like to find a crime novel where the main detective isn’t in conflict with their superior. And ideally, one where the chief of police isn’t a) complaining about lack of progress with the investigation and b) complaining about the drain on resources.
The investigation and resolution is workmanlike but gets bogged down in too much detail about Karen’s daily life; her friends and hints about a trauma in her past. It made the middle section overly slow.
Where I would happily have enjoyed discovering more about was Doggerland itself. This nation is a melting pot of different peoples — Dutch, Scandinavian and English — and different attitudes depending on which island you live.
The residents of Noorö – with their predominantly Norwegian and Swedish heritage – are still described as industrious, quiet and God-fearing, while their cousins on the southernmost island – where the population has more extensive Danish and Dutch roots – are said to be frivolous and leave their nets in the water for too long. In between is Heimö with its unholy mix of British, Scandinavian and continental European heritage. … Yet, although the thieves, murderers and other criminals have never actually been as numerous as some would claim, the main island is, according to the natives of Noorö and Frisel, mostly populated by fish poachers, land owners, shipping magnates and others of their ilk, who don’t mind enriching themselves at the expense of others. And Dunker, the capital, is, naturally, the worst.
Doggerland has its problems. The population is dwindling with many inhabitants lured away by the promise of better work prospects in Sweden and the fishing industry; once the mainstay of the economy; is shrinking. On the plus side, the capital Dunker was named European Capital of Culture and local festivals are as popular as ever.
While the setting is interesting, the characters didn’t hold my attention enough to make me want to read any more of this series.
Fatal Islands was the tenth book I read for #10booksofsummer25. I might squeeze in one or two more before the end of August.