Sometimes, an author is obliged to change pace when their usual territory is becoming over-farmed - not least by themselves. And at first glance, The Devil's Feather would appear to represent a radical new direction for Minette Walters. But - wait a minute - why would Walters need to dip into a new genre of novel? After all, she is now unquestionably in the upper echelons of British crime queens, quite as successful as P D James and Ruth Rendell at mining darker psychological territory, with (in her case) a strong sociological underpinning. Such books as Acid Row and Fox Evil have been bitter pictures of Britain as much as they have been crime novels. The Devil's Feather is more ambitious than any of her preceding work, notably in the massive international canvas (including a war-torn country) that is the novel's backdrop. Five women have been savagely killed in the Sierra Leone conflict. Connie Burns is a correspondent for Reuters who asks awkward questions about the arrest of three young soldiers accused of the crime. Their forced confessions (after savage beatings) count for little in the middle of the Civil War, and Connie's theory - that the murders were committed by a foreigner indulging his own sanguinary fantasies in the middle of a war - proves to be very dangerous for her. Her attempts to track the killer down bring catastrophe on her own head, and she is forced to escape, going to ground in Dorset and dealing with the psychic scars she has been left with. It is, of course, inevitable that she will be tracked down even in the safety of the English countryside by her implacable opponent. [+]

When so many top-selling names in the crime genre have been showing signs of exhaustion lately, it's always refreshing to pick up a new Karin Slaughter and find that her writing is as laser-sharp as ever. Faithless may feature the author's familiar protagonists (police chief Jeffrey Tolliver and medical examiner Sara Linton) but Slaughter consistently finds new challenges for her characters, along with new facets of their ever-fluid relationship. Those weaned on the grisly delights of such Slaughter outings as Blindsighted and Kisscut will know what to expect. And if the novel starts a tad implausibly (Tolliver and Linton, walking in the woods, come across the corpse of a young woman-what are the odds against that?), we're more than prepared to forgive Slaughter this device, when the ever-tightening grip of the narrative takes hold. The duo looks at the evidence, and concludes that the young girl has been literally frightened to death. But during the course of an autopsy, Sara makes a startling discovery-one that gives even the unshockable pathologist pause. She and Tolliver find that there is a trail of evidence leading to a secluded community in the next county, and decide to call in talented detective Lena Adams to aid them. But as the trio draw nearer to the heart of a grim mystery, a destabilising element threatens to undercut their work: Lena's increasing instability. While there is nothing particularly groundbreaking in this latest outing for Slaughter, all the customary skills are firmly in place. A particular achievement (as so often with this author) is the faultless pacing of the narrative: the slow, steady accruing of detail has the reader on the point of impatience, when a brilliantly orchestrated set piece will be delivered. [+]