Harry Tompkin only leaves his grimy bedsit above a chip shop to go to work. Known since childhood as Smelly Harry, he’s not once missed a day at the factory in over forty years, despite the constant derision from his colleagues – after all, where else would he go? Has anyone shown an interest in him, enquired how he is or how he spends the weekend? If they had, he may have told them how much he enjoys woodcarving. But no one ever has, and no one knows or cares that when at home, he skilfully carves intricate mystical creatures from oak, using his one quality possession, his case of specialist wood carving tools. There is ‘life’ in Harry’s carvings, life that only a craftsman of true genius can create. Hideous caricatures or beautiful works of art? Psychiatrists might argue they are the distorted product of a strange and troubled mind, a mind in turmoil, a mind in pain. But to Harry they are his family, his children. And life with his ever-expanding family could have continued forever. But then he completes his latest work and christens him Toby. As Harry lifts Toby admiringly, Toby sneers and speaks with spine-chilling contempt. “You’ll call me by my name, you pathetic fool, you’ll call me Bug.” Next morning, reports of mauled domestic pets are reported to council officials. Foxes, they guess. But can foxes open rabbit hutch padlocks? Then a woman’s mutilated body is found in a local park. Perhaps an escaped big cat is responsible, or a pack of wild dogs. But forensic examination finds no evidence of animal saliva on the victim.
DI Jack Hogg and DS Peter Edwards are called in to investigate, an investigation that intensifies as each night brings more victims of inhuman depravity.
Meanwhile, back in the bedsit above the chip shop, Harry’s family has a new master…Bug.
This is an exceptionally good read. A thriller - yes. Horror - yes. Detective fiction - yes. Supernatrual - possibly. Ironically these are not the types of books I often read, but I am so glad I made an exception because Bug is all this and more.
Roger Knowles has the amazing knack of getting into the head of the characters. Characters who are real and alive, who make good decisions and bad, not cardboard cut outbook people but real people who have many facets to their personalities.
We are introduced to Harry Tompkins and somehow learn so much by the description of his bedsit. I read it with my hand on my chest as I felt so much for this man, and through the stories of his past understood him. How sad that his huge talent had never been recognised or acknowledged by others. As other characters are introduced, with their different lives, it only emphases that Harry does not have a life, or at least only one that exists inside his head. Harry has had to create his own family, his own children, and he could have gone on forever adding to that family until Bug was created. Bug makes it clear from the beginning that he, and not Harry, is in charge.
Crimes, horrific murders occur locally, with supernatural and sub human elements, and I won't spoil things by saying more. But there is such depth to this book as beneath a few words on the page, dozens more are left unsaid. And so although it could be read as a straightforward thrilled with the police solving the crimes, there is oh so much more, so much more.
A brilliant read, and in my opinion probably the best of Roger Knowles work!