The Vault: An Inspector Wexford Novel

If you've never read Ruth Rendell before, do not read this one. It's so far from her usual brilliance that I suspect it was ghostwritten to meet a publisher's demand, or maybe she cobbled it together while drinking a few glasses of claret and not paying any attention at all to the words she put down.A Sight for Sore Eyes is one of my favorite Rendell books, so I couldn't wait to read this one. But there are so many plot holes, coincidences, and improbabilities that I found myself cursing out loud. And the ultimate killer of the more recent corpse was not at all surprising.SPOILERS: So many things drove me mad. For example, when Wexford is shown a note in the pocket of one of the corpses which reads, Francine, La Punaise (my spelling might be off, I listened to the audio), followed by a number, he immediately concludes, Francine must have been his girlfriend, and he wanted her to translate this word, which he knew was Harriet's PIN to her bank account. Throughout the book he comes to such conclusions, making wild guesses that just happen to be right. Then there are the coincidences, such as getting lost, passing by the office of Francine Hill, and sure enough, that's her. At one point in the book, unless I wasn't paying attention which is quite possible, Francine comes to him and says she remembered one other thing--among Harriet's jewelry was a silver cross, that didn't seem to fit with the other more expensive jewelry. Francine doesn't mention the million other details she could have revealed about Teddy, just this peculiar one, which wasn't in ASFSE. Then it turns out that the dead girl wore such a cross! The dead girl of two years before, not 12 years before, for which there was no connection.Then there was the time of death. Exactly two years, and exactly 12, not one to three and 10-15, as would be estimated, given the many variables that make estimating time of death so challenging, especially after several years. When Mildred Jones says she saw her former housekeeper a year ago, Wexford asks no follow up questions such as, how do you know it was a year, could it have been a year and a half? How do you know it was her? Did you speak to her? Instead, he concludes she could not possibly be the corpse in the vault if Mildred says she saw her a year before.Then the most obvious flaw. They know one of the bodies was Harriet, but they don't interview anyone who knew her! Instead, it's okay, we know it's her, and it's obvious the young dead boy killed her, so let's go find Francine from the note. Let's not bother asking anyone who knew her, let's not seriously consider her husband or his former wife turned mistress a suspect, and let's not even concern ourselves with Harriet, the one victim we clearly know. (And, as in the note, Wexford takes one look at her bashed in skull and concludes Teddy must have pushed her down the stairs when she confronted him about something.)The whole implausible book wants me to write a better sequel to whatever happened to Francine, wherre she reveals she suspected all along that Teddy killed Julia, but that's okay, Julia had to go. And the doting husband she appeared to love so much is another controlling abuser, but at 30, she still hasn't quite learned to live independently and obedience is second nature. But she's learned a thing or two from Teddy about how to resolve problematic relationships....

This novel is a sequel to  A Sight for Sore Eyes  which should be read first in order to understand the underlying plot. Chief Inspector (retired) Reginald Wexford is approached by a former colleague to act as an unpaid consultant and apply his skills with people to solving a perplexing case when four bodies are found in an underground room - a case that received national press coverage. Forensic tests have shown that three of the bodies have been there for at least a dozen years (read the prequel noted), but one is more recent. Initial investigations, including DNA, determine the identity of one, but the others are a mystery. Continuing investigations interview previous owners of the property, a "cottage" made famous in a painting, people connected to the previous owners, neighbors, and contractors who may have knowledge of the property and the existance of the room, a "coal hole" that was at one time used for the delivery of coal (back when smoggy London used coal for heating fuel). There are also the searches for the mysterious "Francine" and the owner of a greenish yellow Ford Edsel that had been seen by witnesses (a person and car noted in the prequel).Wexford stumbles into some important information (maybe a little too accidentally), and is distracted by an attack on one of his own children, a psychological twist that will bring back memories of a dysfunctional character and relationship in the prequel. There are many issues in the plot: an older woman in an affair with a younger man (using him for sexual gratification); people earning money off the record for cash in their back pocket (evading taxes); employment of undocumented illegal aliens for pay that is below the minimum wage; and the nasty business of enslaving women as prostitutes. Finding the identities of the dead has some spinoffs among the living.You get a tour of the neighborhoods in London - both the posh and the down-at-the-heels. The high prices of London real estate are noted, and you have to wonder how a lower paid working person could afford to live there (there are the Council Flats and the squatters) - but there are comparable situations in the United States - it is location, location, location (if my property was transported to London, I could not afford to live in my house). One can understand people moving to the USA, Canada, South Africa, Australia, etc.Overall, it is an interesting case, and an interesting follow on to the prequel that was set a dozen years earlier.

I have a mixed history with Ruth Rendell; some of her books I've admired and loved, others I've thought lazy. This book for me fell into the latter category. I started off with huge excitement because this book picks up from where another of hers - SIGHT FOR SORE EYES - left off. I enjoyed SIGHT, so I was looking forward to finding out what happened to the characters. However as soon as I discovered that both Rendell and her editor couldn't be bothered to read the earlier book and check the character's name - GREX, not BREX, I was alerted to the possibility that this was one of her 'lazy' books, and I was proved right. Ruth Rendell has a formula with her Wexford books to intertwine a storyline about Wexford's family with the central crime plot. Unfortunately this time she chose a story featuring Sylvia, who is by a long way the dullest and least believable of the Wexford clan. She has been so unnattractively portrayed in previous books that I'm sure I'm not the only Rendell reader who has to stifle a groan when she appears. The sub-plot isn't the most irritating thing about this book, though. I find Rendell's efforts to explore race/illegal immigrant issues quite embarrassing. the fact that the London female police officer in the book is black seems to be treated as if it were extraordinarily exotic, whereas any Londoner wouldn't find it unusual at all. The South African character turned out to be racist - surprise surprise! This stereotype of South Africans is surely racist in itself? (and about 30 years out of date). And I'm sure many of her readers would have second guessed that when a Latvian-born cash in hand cleaner appears, she was going to be involved in a prostitution/illegal immigrant storyline; Rendell seems only to be able to include other nationalities by using them to represent 'issues' like this.I thank Rendell for the enjoyment she has brought me in the past with many of her books, but this one won't be re-read with pleasure I'm afraid.

I was reading an American forensic crime novel  You Belong To Me  that was failing to capture my interest when The Vault was delivered. I switched books and was immediately hooked by the story and Ruth Rendell's elegant writing. She manages, without excessive descriptive prose, to paint a picture that I can see in my mind's eye and create believable characters. I've enjoyed many Ruth Rendell/Barbara Vine books and generally prefer the Wexford series owing to her creation of strong and admirable core of characters: Wexford, his wife Dora and fellow police officer, Burdon: an enjoyment aided by the TV series with three excellent actors playing those parts to put real flesh on the fictional people.It makes a pleasant change from most other detective series, bar Donna Leon's Brunetti, that Wexford is a happily married man, with a family, who doesn't get drunk or smoke and, though sometimes a little irritable, generally gets on with his colleagues. The Vault is a departure from the rest of the Wexford books in that he has now retired from the police force. However, he is co-opted by a former colleague, now working in London, to help solve the mystery of how four bodies ended up in an underground coal cellar. Adding to the difficulty of solving the crime(s) is that one of the bodies has been dead for a far shorter time than the other three.I gather that this book is a sequel to  A Sight For Sore Eyes , which didn't involve Wexford. I don't recall reading that novel and don't think the omission spoiled my appreciation of The Vault.I see from other reviews that not all are pleased by this book, however, I found it most enjoyable. I liked reading about Wexford's perambulations around London; his family dramas and his opinions about modern life. I prefer detective stories that don't involve a lot of savage violence described in lascivious detail, but instead build up clues, forensic details and intuition to finally solve the case. I rarely work out who "who dunnit" and don't try to, instead just enjoy the journey to the final page.I haven't given the book 5 stars as it isn't the most riveting page-turner, but I do feel its well wroth reading. You Belong To MeA Sight For Sore Eyes

Something of a sequel to "A Sight for Sore Eyes", a non-wexford novel from 1998, returning to Orcadia Cottage and it's grisley secrets. A rather sketchy narrative, not Rendell at her best, parts seem almost a struggle for her to have maintained enough interest to write, but at least she has allowed Wexford, who must be in his 90s (do the math), to retire. As far as I know this is the first time both Rendell's worlds of crime writing have overlapped.

Here's a short list of things wrong with this book:1. There are a large number of glaring flaws including misspellings, repeats of the same verbiage within a few pages, digressions into descriptions of plants and foliage, etc. that should have been caught by any junior editor at a reputable publisher.2. The character of of Det. Sup. Tom Ede is about as wooden and unbelievable as he can be.3. Descriptions of Wexford's perambulations through London are annoying and mostly pointless.4. The front of the book contains rave reviews from respected crime fiction authors who, I am willing to bet, never opened this offering.5. As has been noted by other reviewers, the plotting, pacing and generally dysfunctional writing are a very long way from Rendell's best.All in all - a great disappointment.

I listened to this book on audio on a long trip through Spain. The narrator was excellent. His interpretation of the many speaking voices was outstanding. It made the whole thing a pleasure to listen to.Good plot that keeps interest by rolling along at a fair pace and a nice sub plot. Wexford's home life adds to his trials and tribulations during the investigation.I did find a couple of issues that made me reduce the score from five to four stars.1) There was an unbelievable coincidence that led to him discovering the key witness, the female doctor. There were other coincidences that one could just about put in the suspension of disbelief category.2) I'm still confused over the first three bodies in the vault. I know Wexford gives some explanation but it isn't borne out with any evidence. Or perhaps I just missed that point.I'd recommend the audio book to anyone going on a long drive or even sitting at home and listening to it as a change from the telly.