THE JIGSAW MAN by Nadine Matheson - Review/Excerpt/Q & A

 

Do you enjoy reading thrillers? I'm so excited to share with you a new detective - serial killer series. Debut author, Nadine Matteson introduces readers to her new protagonist, Serial Crimes Unit, Detective Angelica Henley in her first novel, THE JIGSAW MAN (HQ). Matteson calls the series "a macabre love letter to southeast London."

Detective Henley is a smart, strong black woman who is "happier dealing with rapists and murders than her husband." The psychopathic thorn in her side is Peter Olivier, AKA The Jigsaw Man. He's serving life sentences for murder and attempted murder of Henley, during his arrest. It's her first day out in almost a year, and she's paired up with Trainee Detective Salim Ramouter, which really ticks her off. She's not into what she sees is "babysitting" today.

Body parts start showing up along the Thames River and it looks like there's a jigsaw copycat murderer. Henley and the team decide they need to go and talk to Olivier and find out if he knows anything. What they quickly learn is Olivier is not happy knowing someone is out there is trying to copy him.

Matteson has created a very complex and multi-layered character in Henley. She has problems at home as a mother and wife, problems with her father who is getting dementia and she works with a former lover everyday at CSU. This is the first in a series and by the time you finish this book, you'll be anxiously awaiting the second one. I am.

EXCERPT of THE JIGSAW MAN

Chapter Two

How long have we got until the tide comes in?’ Henley was facing the river watching the small waves crashing against the derelict pier. She checked her watch. Nearly two hours had passed since the first 999 call. 

‘I checked online, and high tide is at 9.55 a.m.’ Ramouter replied as he stepped around a

half-submerged car tire, his eyes glazed with anxiety. ‘Low tide was at 3.15. Sunrise was at 6.32.

A three-hour window for someone to dump whoever this is and hope that someone would find it

before the tide comes in?’

‘Maybe,’ Henley acknowledged. ‘But for all we know it could have been dumped after sunrise

or was dumped earlier upstream before being washed up here.’ She inspected the glass façade

of the Borthwick Wharf, empty commercial spaces and work units that opened to the terrace

and lacked security cameras. Henley doubted that the local council would have extended their

own CCTV cameras to this part of the street. They had been neglecting this part of Deptford for

as long as she could remember.

‘Has it been touched?’ Henley asked Anthony who had appeared at her side.

‘As far as I’m aware, it’s in situ. It wasn’t touched by the woman who found it. Matei, your builder,

said that he hadn’t touched the legs but unhelpfully, it’s covered in his vomit. I had a quick look

at the arms that were found downstream before I came here. From the looks of things, the

treasure hunters may have prodded around a bit.’

‘There’s always one.’

The wind dropped and the air softly crackled with the electricity generated from the substation

nearby.

‘We’re isolating the recovery of evidence to the direct path from the alleyway to the torso,’ said

Anthony. ‘I doubt very much that whoever it was sat here and had a coffee afterwards.’

‘They may not have had a coffee, but if we go with Ramouter’s theory and the body parts have

been dumped then whoever it was certainly knows the river,’ Henley replied. ‘We’ll let you get

on.

Ramouter and I are going to take a walk.’

‘Where are we going?’ asked Ramouter.

‘To meet Eastwood.’

‘And you want to walk it?’

Henley did her best to push aside her frustration when Ramouter pulled out his phone. ‘Google

maps says that Greenwich pier is almost a mile away,’ he said.

‘Your body-part dumper isn’t the only one who knows the river,’ Anthony shouted out as Henley

began to walk determinedly along the riverbank.

The gold scepters on the twin domed roofs of the Old Royal Naval College pierced the cloudless sky. The bare masts of the restored Cutty Sark completed the historical panoramic view that Greenwich was known for. It was a resplendent, whitewashed version of history that contrasted with the sewage that washed ashore. Henley stopped walking when she realized that she could no longer hear the sounds of Ramouter’s leather soles slipping on wet pebbles.

‘Where are you from?’ Henley asked, waiting for Ramouter to take off his jacket and loosen his

tie. She moved closer towards the moss-covered river wall as the tide began to encroach.

‘Born in West Bromwich. Moved to Bradford when I was twelve.’ Ramouter tried to brush off the

bits of mud that had stuck to his trousers, but they only smeared more. ‘Lots of moors, no rivers.

Surely it would have been quicker in the car.’

‘This is quicker. Unless you fancy sitting in traffic for the next half hour while they raise the Creek

Road Bridge.’

‘You know this area well?’

Henley ignored the question. She didn’t see the point in telling him that she could have walked

this path with her eyes closed. That this small part of South-East London was ingrained in her.

‘Whoever dumped the torso would have taken this route. It doesn’t make any sense to come

down here, go back up to the street level and then drive up to Watergate Street. Out of sight,

below street level. Lighting would have been minimal.’

‘Body parts are heavy though,’ Ramouter tried to quicken his step to catch up with Henley. ‘The

human head weighs at least eight pounds.’

‘I know.’ Henley pulled out her mobile phone, which had started to ring. She saw who it was and

ignored the call.

‘Head, torso, arms, legs. That’s at least six individual body parts.’

‘I know that also. So, tell me, what point are you making?’ Henley waited for Ramouter to reach

her before maneuvering him towards the river wall as though she was chaperoning a child.

‘I’m just saying that that’s a lot of dead weight to be carrying around at three in morning.’

Ramouter paused and placed his hand against the wall, trying to catch his breath.

Henley didn’t openly express her agreement. She fished out a black hair band from her jacket

pocket and pulled her thick black curls into a ponytail. She had forgotten how much energy it

took to walk across the gradient slope of the riverbank. Worse, she felt mentally unprepared for

the job ahead, with a trainee struggling behind her who had no idea this was her first time as

senior investigator in almost a year.

‘It’s a bit grim, isn’t it?’ DC Roxanne Eastwood shouted out as Henley finally reached the first crime scene. ‘Morning, Ramouter. Not a bad gig for your first day.’

Henley had always thought that Eastwood actually looked and carried herself like a detective.

Now, Eastwood was poised on the riverbank, the sleeves of her jacket rolled up with her

notebook in her hand. She had come prepared for the river and was wearing a pair of jeans

and trainers that had seen better days.

‘Morning, Eastie. How does it feel to be out of the office?’ Henley asked, her eyes drifting to a

crime scene investigator who was putting an arm into a black bag.

‘I should be asking you that,’ said Eastwood, with a look of concern.

Henley silently appreciated the empathy and placed her hand on Eastwood’s shoulder.

‘But since you asked, it’s bloody terrible. I think I’ve got sunburn.’ Eastwood rubbed a hand over

her reddening forehead. ‘Forensics are going to be wrapping up in a bit. Not that there’s much

for them to do. Bag it and tag it.’

‘Where’s Mr Thomas?’

‘Ah, our illustrious treasure hunter. Last time I saw him he was heading towards the shops.

Said that he needed to get some water for his dog.’ Eastwood shook her head, obviously not

believing a word of it. ‘I’ve got an officer keeping an eye on him. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d

already uploaded pictures of his find onto Instagram.’

‘I want him taken back to the station. Ramouter can take another statement from him.’ Henley

said it purposely so that Ramouter would sense she was in control. ‘If he’s like most mudlarkers,

he would have been out here first thing this morning waiting for the tide to go out. Where

exactly were the arms found?’

‘Just over there.’ Eastwood pulled down her sunglasses and pointed towards the foamed waves

created by a passing river bus. The tide had already come in where X had once marked the

spot. A sense of urgency filled the air as the river regained its territory.

‘Did he say anything else?’

‘Only that he found the second arm about three feet away from the first.’

‘It’s a sick trail of breadcrumbs,’ said Henley.

‘You’re telling me and before you ask about CCTV, there’re loads of cameras—’

‘But none aimed at this part of the river.’

‘Exactly.’

Henley’s mobile phone began to ring. She pulled it out and answered. After a quick chat, she

ended the call.

‘That was Dr Linh Choi. You wouldn’t have met her yet but she’s our go-to forensic pathologist.

She’s just arrived,’ Henley explained to Ramouter. She wiped away the sweat from the back of

her neck.

‘So, we’ve got two arms, both legs and a torso,’ said Ramouter. ‘Where’s the head?’

Good question. Henley thought of the places between the two locations. A primary school, two

nurseries and an adventure playground among the flats and houses. The last thing she needed

was to find a head in the kids’ sandpit.

‘Can I have a quick look?’ Henley asked the assistant from Anthony’s CSI team, who had just

bagged up the arm and was scribbling in her notebook.

‘Sure.’ The assistant unzipped the bag and pushed the plastic apart.

‘Fuck,’ Henley said under her breath. Her heartbeat quickened, her stomach flipped.

‘Oh,’ said Ramouter as he peered over Henley’s shoulder. One arm was covered with gravel.

Slivers of seaweed criss-crossed old scars. The second arm. Slender wrist, the ring finger

slightly longer than the index, broken fingernails. Black skin. Henley could hear Pellacia’s words

from earlier ringing in her ears.

‘Too early to say if it belongs to the same victim or if it’s more than just one.’

‘Call DSI Pellacia,’ Henley told Ramouter. ‘Tell him that we’ve got two possible murder victims.’

Excerpted from The Jigsaw Man by Nadine Matheson, Copyright © 2021 by Nadine Matheson

Published by Hanover Square Press

Q & A with Nadine

1.   You are a criminal defense attorney in London. Has real life ever been stranger than fiction?

Most definitely life has been stranger than fiction. My most memorable case involved a woman accused of fraud

and had used multiple identities. My client insisted that she was, let’s call her, Emma Smith, even when the

prosecution brought the real Emma Smith and her entire family to court. It was absolutely crazy and to this day I

am no closer to knowing this woman’s true identity.

 2.   What's something about your job that you wish people knew? 

There is absolutely no glamour in my job. My working life is not an episode of Suits. Sitting around in police

station at 4am is not glamorous and there is so much time spent waiting.  I was never told in law school that I

would spend so much time waiting for either clients to arrive, or for the police to be ready for interview. There was

one occasion where I attended court for my case which was scheduled to start at 10am. The case wasn’t called

on until 3.30pm.

 3.   Will there be more books with DI Anjelica Henley?

Absolutely. DI Anjelica Henley’s story isn’t over. I’ve recently finished book 2 in the series so there will definitely

be more of her.

 4.   Why do think there aren't as many #ownvoices novels in the mystery/thriller genre? 

There are many #ownvoices in the mystery/thriller genre but for some inexplicable reason these voices are not

being elevated or promoted as voraciously. I suspect that there’s a misconception that #ownvoices writers can

only tell one type of story which is not true. Our storytelling is as diverse as the #ownvoices writers. I’m hopeful

that things are now changing and that these talented writers are being placed on a higher platform.

 5.       What are some of your favorite #ownvoices novels?  

The Joy Luck Club by Amy Tan, Blacktop Wasteland by S.A. Cosby, Such a Fun Age by Kiley Reid, This Lovely

City by Louise Hare, Take it Back by Kia Abdullah

 6.       Do you work from an outline or just fly by the seat of your pants?

I could never fly from the seat of my pants. My characters would be wandering around aimlessly in the middle of

a field if I didn’t have a plan. I always outline the first draft of my book. I call my outline a safety net. My outline is

not something that I stick to rigidly as sometimes a character can take you off in an unexpected direction and a

subplot can appear out of nowhere.

 7.       Coffee or Tea?

Tea! Always tea with milk, sugar and a biscuit on the side! There has to be biscuits.

 8.       What do you use to inspire you when you get Writer’s Block?  

Nature. The best thing for me to do if I get stuck is to leave the house. I will usually walk around my local park or

go to the river. I love being near water and I find that it’s the best place to be if I need to expand my mind.

 9.   Favorite Season (Fall, Winter, Spring, Summer)?

This is not an easy question because I love all seasons. I love the crispness of winter, the new beginnings of

Spring and the gentleness of Fall, but Summer is probably my favorite season. Summer feels like freedom.

 10.   What has been the hardest thing about publishing? What has been the most fun?

The hardest thing has been trying to meet the deadline for the second book whilst trying to finish edits on the first

book. The most fun has been holding my book in my hands for the first time and having readers contacting me to

say how much they’ve enjoyed ‘The Jigsaw Man.’

 11.   What advice would you give budding authors?

Read a lot and write the story that you want to tell. Don’t worry about what’s number one in the bestseller charts

or if anyone will buy your book. The most important thing is to write your story and to finish.

 12.   Who would play DI Henley in the TV/movie adaptation?

Naomie Harris.

 13.   Do you find yourself unnerved or even somewhat scared while writing crime stories?  

No. There’s not been one moment where I’ve felt the need to fall asleep with the light on after whilst writing my

stories. It may be that I’m very skilled at compartmentalizing. I’ve always said I wouldn’t have lasted six weeks if

thought about all of the cases that I’d worked on as a newly qualified Criminal Defence Attorney. I’m able to sleep

very well at night.

 14.   What are you reading right now? 

Lightseekers by Femi Kayode.

Nadine Matheson was born and lives in London. She began her working life at the BBC and now practices as a criminal defence lawyer. In 2016, she won the City University Crime Writing Competition and completed the Creative Writing (Crime/Thriller Novels) MA at City University of London with Distinction in 2018.

Her crime fiction novel, The Jigsaw Man, was published by HQ on 18 February 2021 and Hanover Square Press on 16 March 2021. The Jigsaw Man has been optioned for TV by Monumental Television.

She can always be found on Twitter @nadinematheson and contacted via email: nadine@nadinematheson.com

To purchase  THE JIGSAW MAN