The dream sequence of his death in italics verges on macabre poetry. You have to listen very carefully; some notes are not discernible on a conscious level. This is Michael R. Davidson’s at his best.
And then you realise it’s not a dream and the writer jolts you out of your somnolent thoughts. He lulls you before the reality smacks you hard in the face.
Frozen fish not only smell fishy but make a bloody mess if wielded properly on a vulnerable face. This book gets you thinking, thinking in ways that are introspective and dangerous. He forces us to look in the mirror of our own dark past. Being a victim basically sucks.
What, double take, is that a toupe dangling from another hotel balcony suicide? And I’m trying to keep a straight face writing this. And worse still, future hotel guests want to rent the same room, in hope of osmotically drawing in the bear’s wealth and prestige. None of this will make any sense unless you have dipped into the make-believable world of Mr. Davidson.
The book is so real, right down to that ‘Bismillah’ graffiti on the wall of a textile factory in Ciudad Del Este in Paraguay or the cascading waters of Iguazu Falls that skirts the nearby borders of Brazil, Paraguay and Argentina; you can even feel the mist enveloping you as jostle for space amongst other tourists taking selfies with the help of long ‘selfie’ poles.
Even on the remote windswept shores of the west coat of Ireland, the little village of Cleggan takes on a curious life of its own – Fish and Chips at Oliver’s Pub only 13 Euros. And those castles near Shannon where Harry and Sasha fly out for clandestine assignments?
It’s a Google Earth treasure trove, taking us to exotic locations, from Brazil, Paraguay, and Israel to Monaco. It’s the story that counts most, everything else is just a well thought out prop. Krystal, Harry, Sasha, Robert, Ronan, Shurgin, and other unsavoury neckless characters bring to life The Incubus Vendetta.
Krystal follows up from this book which is a psychological thriller that guided the book to a satisfactory Davidson resolution, meaning it was fucking brilliant in so many ways.
But knowing what Krystal went through in this book, adds even another layer in the novel ‘Krystal’. Serial killers usually end up dying by their own sword. But in the end, I was actually willing somehow for Shurgin to be rescued and reformed.
Retiring in Brazil with a young mistress seemed like a fitting ending for someone of bullish standing. I had images of Putin wrestling bears and riding bareback in the wilds of Siberia when Davidson described Shurgin toward the end of the book. There was so much ‘yep this is plausible’ going on that I was beginning to question how close was the author to the events that transpired in The Incubus Vendetta.
More than we’d ever know, no doubt.
Yet one question looms out of the fog of espionage.
Who intercepted that Panamanian registered freighter?
My bet it was the Israelis.