Product Description

The killer's modus operandi is the same in each instance: strangulation, always with a guitar string, pulled tight from behind until life is taken. And though the murders are taking place up and down country, there is one other similarity that Inspector Wilkins can't help noticing. Each and every victim is a psychotherapist ...Donald Dorricks is on a mission. Nine psychotherapists to go and his crusade is complete. Yet even after giving himself up and confessing to the killings, he still protests his innocence. And just as Inspector Wilkins struggles to catch the killer, Dorricks' wife Verine attempts to understand the reasoning behind the murders ...

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #754248 in Books
• Published on: 2003-05-01
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Paperback
• 256 pages

Review
'A glorious black comedy . To sum it up in three words: wonderful, wonderful, wonderful' DAILY MAIL * 'She's like David Lynch's granny' GUARDIAN * 'Hugely entertaining ... Just the right mixture of pathos and bathos' SUNDAY TELEGRAPH

About the Author
Bernice Rubens was born in Wales. Her novels include the Booker-Prize winning THE ELECTED MEMBER and A FIVE YEAR SENTENCE, which was shortlisted for the same award.

Customer Reviews

A witty and thought-provoking novel
Nine Lives has depth, an unsettling wit and enjoyably sinister overtones. The author casts a cool, yet compassionate eye over Verine's struggles to understand the conundrum that is her husband's conviction and his self-proclaimed innocence.

Verine is a woman loyal beyond reason. She may shrink - no pun intended! - from confrontation, but resentful and critical thoughts increasingly intrude on her determination to deny the truth. Donald is a more enigmatic character, outwardly a bland, loving husband and father, whose inner world is revealed in his secret diary.

DI Wilkins is PC Plod, baffled by the ingenious, but horrible crimes being committed. Police procedurals are obviously not of interest to the author, which is a shame as the chapters dealing with police detection feel clunky, old fashioned and unconvincing. However, as a character, DI Wilkins is endearing and humane in his determination to discover the murderer.

The chapters dealing with the murders are vivid and paint gripping vignettes between victim and killer. Equally colourful, are the scenes crowded by secondary characters such as the bereaved families, the curious neighbours and the bitchy friends.

Whilst the repetitive narrative device becomes a slightly predictable and somewhat dulls the drama of the story, I kept reading as this is an intelligent, funny and thought-provoking novel.

A pleasant diversion
I don't normally like books that keep switching point of view as it holds up progression of the narrative, but each chapter, with the points of view of the murderer, the wife and the detective, were short and engaging enough to keep the plot flowing along.
It seems to be a book about pre-destination - the murderer pre-determined to commit murders, the wife pre-determined to stay loyal and the detective to go through the motions of pursuing the criminal.
And as one other reviewer points out, it does become a bit repetitive.

Bernice Rubens records in her memoir that she had trouble pronouncing her forename and this is echoed by the main character in the book (Verine) and Rubens, also in her memoir, wrote she had an encounter with a man with a wooden leg - again used in the book. It is interesting to see how the author has re-told and used these real life incidents in a novel.

Rather dull and predictable.
I bought this novel after reading a number of good reviews for it in the press, and wonder if I read the same book as the critics. I thought the style, structure and plotting monotonous, the characterization flat and stereotyped. It fails to succeed as detective fiction (you know who 'did it' and can easily guess why), as a satire on psychotherapy (too unsubtle and generalized) or as a portrait of everyday evil (you don't believe a word of it & the tone seems misplaced). I did laugh out loud a couple times; but Ms Rubens ain't a Tom Sharpe or a Dame Muriel Spark.