Indomitable, indefatigable, and inflexible have all been words to describe the Mid–Yorkshire constabulary's Andy Dalziel. But more surprising is how many people call him friend. No matter how exasperated Ellie and Peter Pascoe or Sgt. Wield get with "Fat Andy," there is no thought in any of their minds of that presence ever vanishing.
Like a mountain or other large part of the scenery seen every day, life without Chief Superintendent Andy Dalziel coercing the next round out of his subordinates is unimaginable. Which makes his being brought down by a bomb at a suspected terrorist site all the more unbelievable. Not just laid up for a few days either, but in a coma from which he may never rise again.
Terror and terrorism are not confined to London in modern Great Britain, and no matter how far north you go, even into the wilds of Yorkshire; its effects are being felt. With Andy down, it is up to his far more politically correct subordinate Peter Pascoe to liaison with the counter-terrorist troops that storm the Mid-Yorkshire police headquarters in an attempt to drag as much information out of the site's ruins as possible.
In Death Comes For The Fat Man, Reginald Hill has gathered together his familiar cast of characters from the Mid Yorkshire constabulary and thrown them up against every police officer's worst nightmare. A beloved colleague brought down in the line of duty and you're not able or allowed to do anything about seeking out those responsible.
For Peter Pascoe, his frustration at being relegated to the sidelines by the counter-terrorist squad is only made worse by the feelings of guilt he is suffering for having been literally sheltered from the worst of the blast by the bulk of his superior officer. It only increases his frustration and anger to find out that those responsible are in actual fact vigilante anti-terrorists who are being covertly assisted by the very people who are supposed to be investigating their activities.
In other words, Reginald Hill has set up all the right ingredients for a typical "hunt the spy among the spies while you hunt down the killers" story that has been the hallmark of good British mystery writing since Le Carré. But the wonderful thing about Reginald Hill books is the fact that he goes off in directions unexpected and poses questions that maybe some of us would rather not think about.
There's a great deal of fuss made these days about the intelligent person's murder mystery as opposed to the old-fashioned pulp fiction style of Raymond Chandler, or the detective pulling it out of the hat style popularized by Dame Agatha. But even they have become formulaic with the troubled, alcohol-plagued, solitary male who can't keep a relationship on the rails, or the woman who has to be as tough as the men but keep in touch with her feminine side. You wonder when they ever have time to do any police work, they're so troubled.
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