When you pick up "Cradle Song" (the first of Robert Edric's "Song Cycle Trilogy" which leads through "Siren Song" to "Swan Song"), you instantly know that you are walking through a land of deception.
The first few pages report the critics from almost every major UK newspaper and periodical telling you that here is a master of the sleight of hand, of the intricately woven plot, one of the best and most under-rated writers in the English language.
So you start reading, and there is an unnerving dissonance between the text and the plaudits. For the first four hundred pages, you are presented with an entertaining US TV-style crime procedural import, skilfully adapted to the climate of the North-East coast of England, driven by massed high voltage dialogue where people would rather swear at each other than greet each other, and with moments where the sun really breaks through as he describes abandoned individuals, such as the retired DCI Sullivan beached in his shadow disgrace, and the pathetic child pornographer, Martin Roper, recapturing his summer play among the flats of a bleak Spurn Point.
Then, after four hundred pages (perhaps a little long to wait), you are in the hands of the author who in "The Book of the Heathen" made Joseph Conrad's "Heart of Darkness" infinitely darker. The pace picks up, and the details hit you from rock-solid foundations in the culmination of a brutal, seedy tale.
This is why Robert Edric is considered a master. Like a Cistercian monk, he sees the world and he doesn't blink.