Val McDermid's skills as a crime writer are matched by her versatility: she has been responsible for three separate series of novels as well as several stand-alone titles. Her most enduring characters are Manchester-based private eye Kate Brannigan, and crime profiler Tony Hill. But while the gritty realism of these books has long been her calling card, McDermid's more recent work has shown a greater degree of psychological penetration and The Distant Echo is possibly her most ambitious and sustained achievement yet. When a group of students discover the body of a young woman after leaving a party, they little realise that they will soon become the principal suspects in the murder and rape of the victim, Rosie Duff. Twenty-five years pass, and Fife police reinvestigate the crime -- but someone other than the police department is employing unorthodox methods to exact their own concept of justice, and one of the original group of suspects dies in a house fire which may not have been accidental. Then a second suspect dies in a bungled burglary. Alex Gilbey, one of the original group, realises he may well be next in line, and the only way to save his life may be to discover who actually killed Rosie Duff 25 years ago. Such writers as Patricia Highsmith and Ruth Rendell have done their best work when concentrating on someone at the centre of a crime rather than a series detective, and that is precisely the case here. Throughout its considerable length, McDermid effortlessly delineates the growing tension and mental malaise that grips the central characters. But perhaps the most masterful aspect of The Distant Echo is the fashion in which the author marries the strip-mining of psychological aspects with a tautly realised narrative, in which revelations are paid out in a most felicitous manner. There are those who will prefer McDermid's engaging series characters, but many readers will find this to be a psychological thriller that has all the distinction of a serious piece of literature.
