Shamini Flint

Oodles of people can produce light, cosy mysteries that are entertaining but difficult to take seriously. And oodles more can pen blood-soaked tales of death and darkness. But I can’t think of another author who so consistently delivers stories that offer insightful glimpses into unknown worlds in a tone that manages to be light without being mocking or in any way dismissive of the pain her characters are experiencing. Shamini Flint really is a terrific teller of tales.

In the seventh book show more of the series Flint’s disgruntled Singaporean protagonist heads to England for a Commonwealth conference on policing. To make matters worse than going to a cold climate to talk about policing rather than doing actual police work, his wife decides to accompany him. He brightens a little when told there is a cold case for him to look into; the unsolved murder of Fatima Daud some five years earlier. But – unfathomably in Inspector Singh’s eyes – he isn’t supposed to solve the case.

‘Surely the best solution is to catch the murderer?’

‘We are here to explore whether the investigation might have had more success if it had engaged with the wider community and submit a paper with recommendations to the conference.”

Despite his baffling bureaucratic orders Singh is soon investigating the murder itself rather than the politics which surrounded the original case and even his wife gets in on the act.

This book couldn’t have been more timely given that it also incorporates a modern-day potential terrorist incident planned for the UK. Flint provides an incisive view of how terrorists can be ‘made’ and manages to show the absurdity of that path without any of the broad brush strokes that are often applied to this topic. Flint pulls off a delicate balancing act and delivers real understanding of this complex issue that, one way or another, we all must deal with.

The book is not all about politics though. At its heart there is a ripper yarn that unfolds with a mixture of suspense, warmth and humour. And did I mention the suspense? It’s a nail-biter, made all the more poignant when Mrs Singh puts herself in danger. The couple’s relationship is explored in more depth here than in many of the earlier novels and we really get to see that it is more complex than it might previously have appeared. It’s so refreshing to see a series novel offer surprises about its core characters without resorting to soap opera elements.

In short, I loved everything about this book. Hope you do too. show less

Engaging characters and a vibrant locale set the stage for this exciting mystery to play out.

When a famous Singaporean model is arrested for the murder of her husband, a lumber magnate, in Kuala Lumpur, his superiors in the Singapore Police send Inspector Singh to Malaysia to ensure Chelsea Liew receives a fair shake. With a pretty much cut-and-dried case against Liew, this assignment is viewed as a no-win situation for Singh and seen as a possible way to rid the department of him. And show more although Singh has a successful investigative history, he is considered a pariah within his department for an as-yet unrevealed reason.

He is not greeted warmly at his arrival on the Malaysian Police Commissioner’s doorstep, but his “cooperation” in the case is grudgingly accepted, and he’s assigned a local officer as an assistant. Sergeant Shukor, the Commissioner’s aide-de-camp, is supposed to keep an eye on Singh, subtly thwart his participation, and hurry him on his way back to Singapore. However, Shukor is a genuinely earnest cop and feels Singh is on to something. He quickly switches to Singh’s camp, and together, they pursue the elements that make up the evidence against Chelsea.

The accused and the deceased, Alan Lee, were going through a bitter divorce and custody battle at the time of his murder. During their last court appearance, Lee’s attorney had dropped a bombshell on everyone, announcing that his client had recently converted to Islam. According to the Malaysian constitution, this development put the question of the custody of their children in the hands of the religious Syariah court, where they would most certainly award custody to their now-Moslem father. Lee, an abusive wife-beater, known repeat adulterer, and disinterested parent at best, is suspected of making a sham conversion to spite his wife and separate her from her beloved children, giving her a strong motive for his murder.

With things looking grim for Chelsea, a conviction means a mandatory death sentence for her; she has mentally given up as she languishes in the local prison awaiting her trial. Singh is eventually able to shake her out of her stupor, though, with his offer of help.

A Most Peculiar Malaysian Murder is the first book in Shamini Flint’s Inspector Singh Investigates series. It is a superb beginning with a curious lead detective, a colorful and exotic Malaysian setting, and an intriguing, surprise-filled plot. Interestingly, we don’t learn much about the main character; he’s even addressed as Singh or Inspector Singh throughout, never a first name. We know he is married, a Sikh, has a widowed sister living in Kuala Lumpur whom he ends up staying with during the extended investigation, and that his Singaporean colleagues would love to have him gone. Physically, he’s short, rotund, sweats profusely, smokes, and snores like a freight train, according to his sister. He’s just not a very engaging sounding lead character, but somehow, he is just that, and very much so. He coaxes witnesses to tell all and wins over his Malaysian counterparts quite handily. The missing pieces to the puzzle of his backstory, though, will act like catnip on me; I will need to read further in the series for sure. In addition, I enjoyed both Shukor and Inspector Mohammed, the Malaysian connections, one for his genuineness and the other for his elegance and grace. I hope they reappear in series down the road.

The Malaysian setting was exotic; I haven’t run across any other mysteries using this location as a backdrop. The descriptions immersed me in the place. I felt I had a reasonably good image of what the inspector and other characters were experiencing. And although the story doesn’t linger in Borneo, I thought I got a clear impression of that place and a good idea of the events of the time with the logging industry, palm oil, and the Penan people (which continues today.)

Along with its engaging characters, multiple points of view, and vibrant locale, the plot provides many viable suspects and red herrings to dismiss before getting to its final resolution. I never saw the answer until a tiny action clued me in, thinking, “No, really?” Not that the suspect was implausible but that I’d been had – completely. Having admitted that, I will say the resolution also satisfied me – completely.

I recommend A MOST PECULIAR MALAYSIAN MURDER to readers of mystery fiction who would enjoy a different sort of police detective, competent for sure but with flaws and perhaps storied background. Also, this book might fit the bill for mystery readers who, although they aren’t into the cozy subgenre, don’t care for a lot of blood and guts in the details of their crime stories. show less

I get the strangest feeling of Agatha Christie, lah?
Not entirely sure why that would be as Inspector Singh is an Indian Singaporean, disrespected by the bureaucracy that employs him, somewhat sweaty, easily lost; really nothing at all like the impeccable Hercule Poirot. Yet I found myself rather charmed by this quick little whodunnit. A famous Singapore model was in the midst of divorcing her wealthy playboy Malaysian husband, the lurid details providing fodder for the tabloids. When he is show more found murdered outside his home, everyone is sure she did it in response to his latest ploy to win custody: declaring himself a Moslem. The newspapers in both countries are fanning nationalist flames; the government of Singapore wants to appear to be protecting their citizens, while Malaysia wants to be seen as cooperative and confident--thus the cooperation of Inspector Singh of the Singapore Police Department with Malaysian counterparts Inspector Mohammad and Sargent Shukor. The incarcerated wife of Alan Lee, Chelsea Liew, refuses to say anything in her defense. Singh has finally gotten her talking when the dead man's brother walks in to the police station and confesses. Too bad Chelsea is sure he is innocent, and asks Singh to continue to seek the murderer.

It's an intriguing mix of characters and truly, every one introduced had reason to murder the victim. I really had no idea who the murderer was, and eagerly followed Singh and Shukor around Kaula Lumpur as they sought evidence of who killed Alan Lee and why. And what lovely indirect tour guides they prove to be, as the reader is treated to an overview to Malaysian culture and the contrasts with Singapore. In a moment of book serendipity, I had run into a Malaysian woman before starting this book and she mentioned how the British has brought in Chinese to work mines, and Indians to serve as house servants and bureaucrats during colonial days, and it was fascinating to have see how that little bit of historical knowledge continued to play out in modern times. Then there's the Malay themselves, a diverse group of people with many different tongues and traditions, and we see small pieces of cultures as both suspects and inspectors wander through the country.

It is a Christie manor-house mystery, with a small cast of characters connected by blood or love and a small team of police searching for answers as they try to understand the micro-culture of the victim. The narrative hops around a bit between the different players--all of them, if I remember correctly--giving us tantalizing insight without actual guilt. If the book has any failing, it is that it is a little challenging to emotionally connect with any of the characters. Chelsea is quite withdrawn at first, although she sheds her despondence to become a fierce mother, while Inspector Singh is somewhat laughable. Brother to the dead Alan, Kian Min is a greedy, egocentric soul, while the other brother, Jester, is largely enigmatic and ineffectual. Then there's the city, chaotic, crowded and build on graft. And the poor rainforest jungles of Borneo, harvested at an incredible rate and often illegally. There's more, of course, but I don't want to spoil the fun. I highly recommend it. I'll be looking for the next in the series. show less

My favorite Inspector Singh yet. If you haven’t yet heard about the Inspector Singh detective series, I recommend giving it a try. Singh is a detective with the Singapore Police with a knack for solving murders and an equal gift for irritating his superiors, often resulting in dubious foreign ‘honor’ missions. In this case, he’s been sent as a Singapore representative for a war crimes tribunal in Cambodia led by the United Nations. He’s never been to Cambodia and finds the show more gastronomic experience sadly lacking. When a witness is killed halfway through testimony, he finds himself working with the local police to solve the murder.

Although the cover blurb has the gall to compare it to McCall Smith’s series starring Precious Ramotswe, the two series are really quite different in philosophy. For one thing, Flint isn’t afraid to raise the emotional impact through body count. More significantly, Flint plunges right into complicated situations, particularly in this book structured around modern day after effects of the Khmer Rouge, where McCall Smith’s series tends to minimize or ignore political conflict and history.

“Chhean stood in line outside the court room, her tapping foot the only overt sign of her impatience, waiting to be ushered in by the various functionaries. The tribunal guards were dressed in light-blue shirts and heavy gold braid. She supposed this fondness for colourful costumes was a subconscious effort to forget the days when authority had worn black collarless pyjamas and red chequered kramas. If only it were so easy to dress up or disguise the past.”

The story opens with a flashback: a young girl watches her father taken in the middle of the night by men of the Khmer Rouge, and what happens when she surreptitiously follows them. Narrative then shifts to focus primarily on Singh, but also brief interludes of an assortment of others, including Colonel Menday, one of the few honest members of the Cambodian police; Gaudin, an elderly, tormented Frenchman; and Chhean, an adult orphan. While appearances may be brief, we get enough complexity of each to appreciate their struggles. The hero, Singh is quite human–an imperfect, frequently slovenly one–with a belief in justice who is often moved to compassion despite his cynicism. In short, identifiable. His sidekick, Chhean, is a dogged Cambodian journalist who is often assigned ‘odd jobs’ and spends her spare time researching old records for hints of her missing family. Intelligent, determined, focused; she was a perfect foil for Singh.

Storytelling was fascinating as it went from murder mystery, to the search for missing loved ones, and in the background deaths of former Khmer Rouge trying to live out their lives in anonymity. The setting contained the wonderful variety in most countries, from tourism-centered villages to officious administrative offices to rural landscape. I appreciated the diversity of places and people that covered, given that it’s a relatively quick detective novel.

I make no secret of the fact that I generally like my reading escapist; with a heart wounded regularly in real life by the deaths of lovely people and compassion stretched by attempting to help people that can’t help themselves, I strongly prefer happy endings and likeable characters. I was somewhat apprehensive starting this one; I knew of the Cambodian killing fields only generally, and was concerned the book might overwhelm. It turned out to be wonderfully balanced for me, mystery and sub-mystery woven through with an education in a country I know almost nothing about, and an exploration of the legacy of citizenship in such a country.

Four and a half stars, rounding up because entertainment and education. show less