Devil's Edge is a fairly insular world, defined, geographically at least, by the cliff edges which surround it. This book is, in a similar way, equally circumscribed. As the reader is told on the opening page, "It was one of the drawbacks of living in the countryside. Too much of the outside world intruding. Too many things it was impossible to keep out." In this novel, the outside world, and the aspects of it one would most like to keep out, intrudes in the worst way. On the eastern fringe of the Peak District, in the village of Riddings, in rural Derbyshire, there has been a rash of break-ins. The burglars have been dubbed The Savages by the press. The newest incidents escalate the anxiety when they suddenly turn deadly. The author speaks of the residents having sought sanctuary in the rural haven, noting, however, that "everyone had monsters in their lives." Suspicion turns from looking for an outside group of burglars to someone from within the community, targeting the victims, for reasons far more personal.
Recently promoted D.S. Ben Cooper is assigned the investigation. He, particularly, believes it is not the work of The Savages, being much more meticulously planned and leaving no trace of the culprit[s].
D.S. Diane Fry, formerly with the West Midlands Police "in the days before she transferred to yokel land," is brought back into the squad to take over the investigation after an almost unimaginable turn of events changes Ben Cooper's life forever. Despite the past ambivalence of their relationship, where they were both vying for the same promotion, their usually well-concealed respect for each other is here on display.
The author's descriptions bring the land to palpable life, e.g., "the distant rocky outcrops seemed to change shape. They slid slowly sideways, merged and divided, their outlines shifting from smooth to jagged to a distinctive silhouette. It was all the effect of altering angle and perspective. With each step, a transformation took place in the landscape, a gradual reveal like the slow drawing aside of a curtain. At a point halfway across the flats, a split rock he hadn't noticed before came into view. As it emerged from behind a larger boulder, its two halves slowly parted and turned, like the hands of a clock creeping past noon." Simply gorgeous. [The landscape, and the writing, that is.]