We find an interesting plethora of noir storytellers in any country in Europe. What is not so common for us is to find a writer from the antipodes like Jane harper showing us the diversity of evil and crime spread to the other side of the world. An exotic Australia whose interior also houses that dark myth in tune with black Spain or the assumption that corresponds to any country with the dirty laundry of its population thoroughly washed at home.
Do not hesitate, in Australia they also kill beautifully. Because beyond flirtations with wild sides by the best seller Kate morton, the good Harper has decided that also in those parts animosity, psychopathies and various phobias can be projected, as well as economic interests capable of finding a summary price for life.
The uniqueness of this author lies in the absolute integration with the setting, with the landscape. Because since we are we must recognize that for the rest of the world, Australia continues to be a fascinating place that is unknown. And it is that even traveling there as I had the opportunity on one occasion, you always feel that there would be many things to see and that a new world is left behind as soon as you are back ...
A little trick then to dazzle us from that challenge that involves moving through the plain of a gigantic continent governed by the telluric force of a Mount Urulu capable of awakening fatal magnetism between its games of light and strange and shallow shadows.
Top 3 Recommended Jane Harper Novels
The lost man
When Nathan Bright discovers his middle brother Cameron dead next to the tombstone of an unknown rancher (whose legendary story gave weight to countless ghost stories), the scene slides into a bewildering haze, but it doesn't make any sense: Why? Would Cameron walk completely away from his SUV with a full tank in a merciless sun? What was he doing by the cattleman's grave?
The local police aim for suicide, but Nathan is incapable of assuming that icy feeling that his brother could harbor such uneasiness and the restlessness invades him like a contrast that freezes his blood despite the heat of the Australian interior. There is only one possibility, that Cameron was not the man everyone thought, not even his family.
Perhaps the idea is just a projection to find reasons for death. Because Nathan himself also has a lot to hide. For ten years, he had tried to fill the space between himself and his family, but the weight of an egregious mistake he made that decade ago still carries him firmly. A mistake that cost him custody of his son and left him abandoned not only by his community, but by himself. Cameron's death, it seems, is just another layer of tragedy in an obsessive story, like the song of a cicada accompanying a defiant heat for reason.
Years of drought
Aaron Falk hates his origins. But there is always a reason for that animosity that can make you look back in absolute rejection. After all, what you are is to a large extent what you were with the precise drops of what you learned to be.
Falk's excuse for hatred for his land, a community in southeastern Australia, is made explicit in a thousand excuses about its endemic poverty, about the aggressiveness of its scorching climate and about the sadness of its people. But there is always something deeper that can lead you to hate the space in which you spent your first years, those in which the only complete and possible happiness should inhabit like an old ghost.
That remote happiness often has the appearance of old friends. Aaron Falk had in Luke Hadler that companion on which to evoke the few moments of happiness rescued from his dry motherland. When Luke dies with his entire family in an unfortunate case that points to patricide, Falk does not shy away from that part of responsibility that he feels as an investigator that he is and as an inseparable friend that he was.
No one in Kiewarra can stare at Falk without showing a hint of repudiation. The years pass and the popular imagination, instead of lowering the social condemnation, seems to have sustained the hatred for want of another task.
Falk is not comfortable, he wants to shed some light on Luke's death and get out of there in a few days. His friend's parents convince him not to abandon them. They intuit a buried truth that eludes them, and that, in the absence of giving back the life of their beloved son, could at least clear his name.
Working between intense emotions is something new for Falk, accustomed to the empirical method, to the persecution of criminals bent on defrauding the state and its citizens. Luke's death has nothing to do with it, but the first and slightest signs reach his investigator's nostrils and he will end up succumbing to the aroma of lies, of the hidden, of evil in short, always determined to destroy and deceive ...
Australia also suffers from ambitions and speculation in that fatal mix in which uncontrolled economic interests turn wills into sinister drives. As an example, serve this button with signs of certainty ...
Alice Russell and four co-workers participate in an executive activity in the wooded area of the Giralang Ranges, east of Melbourne. The directors of the company, a prestigious accounting company that federal agent Aaron Falk is investigating for an alleged financial crime, intend with this action to promote team spirit. However, everything goes wrong when Alice, a key witness in the investigations and Falk's confidant, disappears and he has to immerse himself in the heart of an exuberant nature stigmatized by the ghost of a serial killer.
Thus, while the five women wander aimlessly through the cold and rain, and barely survive amid the silences and shadows of a forest as beautiful as it is terrible, Falk will discover not only that Alice is far from being appreciated by her colleagues. , but also a background of misgivings and wounds that has blown up the harmony of the group and has turned this adventure into an unsuspected death trap.