The secret place

Review by Booklist Review

*Starred Review* A year after the brutal murder of a young man on the grounds of posh St. Kilda's school for girls, the case remains unsolved. Then Holly Mackey, a 16-year-old Kilda's student and the daughter of Dublin Murder Squad's Machiavellian Frank Mackey, approaches Detective Stephen Moran with a tantalizing clue: a card with a photo of the victim and the words, I KNOW WHO KILLED HIM, which she says she plucked from a school bulletin board. Moran, who met Holly when she was a nine-year-old witness to a crime, knows instantly that this could be his ticket into the elite Murder Squad if the famously combative Antoinette Conway, the lead investigator on the case, will have him. As the detectives learn more about the connections of the victim to two rival Kilda's cliques, they begin to understand that the girls are more devious, and possibly more dangerous, than they had imagined. Complex characters and a vivid sense of place are at the heart of French's literary success (Broken Harbor, 2012), and although Conway and Moran are fine protagonists, it is the members of the two rival cliques, and St. Kilda's itself, that make The Secret Place much more than just a solid whodunit. French brilliantly and plausibly channels the rebellion, conformity, inchoate longings, rages, and shared bonds, as well as Kilda's role in fostering them.--Gaughan, Thomas Copyright 2010 Booklist

From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.

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Review by Publisher's Weekly Review

In French's mesmerizing fifth Dublin Murder Squad mystery (after 2012's Broken Harbor), Det. Stephen Moran, who works in the cold-case unit, is biding his time until he can make the Murder Squad. When 16-year-old Holly Mackey, a colleague's daughter, shows up with a clue to an old crime, Moran sees his chance. A student at St. Kilda's boarding school, Holly vividly remembers the previous year's murder of Chris Harper, a popular teen from Colm's, the neighboring boys' school. From the St. Kilda's personal notice board known as the Secret Place, Holly brings Moran a photo of Chris with the words "I know who killed him" pasted across his chest. Moran joins forces with the murder squad's feisty Det. Antoinette Conway, and the pair visit the school, setting off a chain of events that ensnares Holly and her three best mates. French stealthily spins a web of teenage secrets with a very adult crime at the center. Agent: Darley Anderson, Darley Anderson Literary, TV & Film Agency. (Sept.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.

(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

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Review by Library Journal Review

French dives in to the complex, socially perilous world of teenage girls in her fifth entry in the "Dublin Murder Squad" series (after Broken Harbor). Det. Stephen Moran sees his chance to leave the stultifying cold cases squad when a young girl shows up at his office bearing the photo of a dead teenage boy inscribed with the words, "I know who killed him." The unsolved case is high profile-the body was found at a ritzy boarding school-and Moran wants to make his mark, even if it means briefly partnering with the notoriously difficult Det. Antoinette Conway. Drawn out over a taut 24 hours, the novel plays with French's usual format by switching perspectives between the teenage girls and Moran. The result is haunting. French plumbs the depths of high school nostalgia while simultaneously shredding the "best days of our lives" myth with expertly drawn teenage social structures in all of their closeness, cruelty, and desperation. While there is only one murder victim, Moran, Conway, and their young suspects are all witnesses to the often crushing ramifications of standing out from the crowd. Verdict True to form, French succeeds yet again in both wholly satisfying and deeply unsettling the reader. Not to be missed. [Previewed in Kristi Chadwick's mystery spotlight feature "Pushing Boundaries," LJ 4/15/14; a September LibraryReads Pick.]-Liza Oldham, Beverly, MA (c) Copyright 2014. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

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Review by School Library Journal Review

Though ostensibly a crime novel-a young man is murdered on the grounds of an exclusive girls' boarding school in Dublin-the work is equally concerned with the ways teenage girls' intense friendships shape events and perspectives. © Copyright 2016. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

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Review by Kirkus Book Review

A hint of the supernatural spices the latest from a mystery master as two detectives try to probe the secrets teenage girls keepand the lies they tellafter murder at a posh boarding school. The Dublin novelist (Broken Harbor, 2012, etc.) has few peers in her combination of literary stylishness and intricate, clockwork plotting. Here, French challenges herself and her readers with a narrative strategy that finds chapters alternating between two different time frames and points of view. One strand concerns four girls at exclusive St. Kilda's who are so close they vow they won't even have boyfriends. Four other girls from the school are their archrivals, more conventional and socially active. The novel pits the girls against each other almost as two gangs, with the plot pivoting on the death of a rich boy from a nearby school who had been sneaking out to see at least two of the girls. The second strand features the two detectives who spend a long day and night at the school, many months after the unsolved murder. Narrating these chapters is Stephen, a detective assigned to cold cases, who receives an unexpected visit from one of the girls, Holly, a daughter of one of Stephen's colleagues on the force, who brings a postcard she'd found on a bulletin board known as "The Secret Place" that says "I know who killed him." The ambitious Stephen, who has a history with both the girl and her father, brings the postcard to Conway, a hard-bitten female detective whose case this had been. The chapters narrated by Stephen concern their day of interrogation and investigation at the school, while the alternating ones from the girls' perspectives cover the school year leading up to the murder and its aftermath. Beyond the murder mystery, which leaves the reader in suspense throughout, the novel explores the mysteries of friendship, loyalty and betrayal, not only among adolescents, but within the police force as well. Everyone is this meticulously crafted novel might be playingor being played byeveryone else. Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

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***This excerpt is from an advance uncorrected proof*** Copyright © 2014 Tana French Holly dumped her schoolbag on the floor. Hooked a thumb under her lapel, to point the crest at me. Said, 'I go to Kilda's now.' And watched me. St Kilda's: the kind of school the likes of me aren't supposed to have heard of. Never would have heard of, if it wasn't for a dead young fella. Girls' secondary, private, leafy suburb. Nuns. A year back, two of the nuns went for an early stroll and found a boy lying in a grove of trees, in a back corner of the school grounds. At first they thought he was asleep, drunk maybe. The full-on nun-voice thunder: Young man! But he didn't move. Christopher Harper, sixteen, from the boys' school one road and two extra-high walls away. Sometime during the night, someone had bashed his head in. Enough manpower to build an office block, enough overtime to pay off mortgages, enough paper to dam a river. A dodgy janitor, handyman, something: eliminated. A classmate who'd had a punch-up with the victim: eliminated. Local scary non-nationals seen being locally scary: eliminated. Then nothing. No more suspects, no reason why Christopher was on St Kilda's grounds. Then less overtime, and fewer men, and more nothing. You can't say it, not with a kid for a victim, but the case was done. Holly pulled her lapel straight again. 'You know about Chris Harper,' she said. 'Right?' 'Right,' I said. 'Were you at St Kilda's back then?' 'Yeah. I've been there since first year.' And left it at that, making me work for every step. One wrong question and she'd be gone, I'd be thrown away: got too old, another useless adult who didn't understand. I picked carefully. 'Are you a boarder?' 'The last two years, yeah.' 'Were you there the night it happened?' 'The night Chris got killed.' Blue flash of annoyance. No patience for pussyfooting, or anyway not from other people. 'The night Chris got killed,' I said. 'Were you there?' 'I wasn't there there. Obviously. But I was in school, yeah.' 'Did you see something? Hear something?' Annoyance again, sparking hotter this time. 'They already asked me that. The Murder detectives. They asked all of us, like, a thousand times .' I said, 'But you could have remembered something since. Or changed your mind about keeping something quiet.' 'I'm not stupid . I know how this stuff works. Remember?' She was on her toes, ready to head for the door. Change of tack. 'Did you know Chris?' Holly quieted. 'Just from around. Our schools do stuff together; you get to know people. We weren't close, or anything, but our gangs had hung out together a bunch of times.' 'What was he like?' Shrug. 'A guy.' 'Did you like him?' Shrug again. 'He was there.' I know Holly's da, a bit. Frank Mackey, Undercover. You go at him straight, he'll dodge and come in sideways; you go at him sideways, he'll charge head down. I said, 'You came here because there's something you want me to know. I'm not going to play guessing games I can't win. If you're not sure you want to tell me, then go away and have a think till you are. If you're sure now, then spit it out.' Holly approved of that. Almost smiled again; nodded instead. 'There's this board,' she said. 'In school. A noticeboard. It's on the top floor, across from the art room. It's called the Secret Place. If you've got a secret, like if you hate your parents or you like a guy or whatever, you can put it on a card and stick it up there.' No point asking why anyone would want to. Teenage girls: you'll never understand. 'Yesterday evening, me and my friends were up in the art room - we're working on this project. I forgot my phone up there when we left, but I didn't notice till lights-out, so I couldn't get it then. I went up for it first thing this morning, before breakfast.' Coming out way too pat; not a pause or a blink, not a stumble. Another girl, I'd've called bullshit. But Holly had practice, and she had her da; for all I knew, he took a statement every time she was late home. 'I had a look at the board,' Holly said. Bent to her schoolbag, flipped it open. 'Just on my way past.' And there it was: the hand hesitating above the green folder. The extra second when she kept her face turned down to the bag, away from me, ponytail tumbling to hide her. Not ice-cream-cool and smooth right through, after all. Then she straightened and met my eyes again, blank-faced. Her hand came up, held out the green folder. Let go as soon as I touched it, so quick I almost let it fall. 'This was on the board.' The folder said 'Holly Mackey, 4L, Social Awareness Studies', scribbled over. Inside: clear plastic envelope. Inside that: a thumbtack, fallen down into one corner, and a piece of card. I recognised the face faster than I'd recognised Holly's. He had spent weeks on every front page and every TV screen, on every department bulletin. This was a different shot. Caught turning over his shoulder against a blur of spring-green leaves, mouth opening in a laugh. Good-looking. Glossy brown hair, brushed forward boyband-style to thick dark eyebrows that sloped down at the outsides, gave him a puppydog look. Clear skin, rosy cheeks; a few freckles along the cheekbones, not a lot. A jaw that would've turned out strong, if there'd been time. Wide grin that crinkled his eyes and nose. A little bit cocky, a little bit sweet. Young, everything that rises green in your mind when you hear the word young . Summer romance, baby brother's hero, cannon-fodder. Glued below his face, across his blue T-shirt: words cut out of a book, spaced wide like a ransom note. Neat edges, snipped close. I know who killed him Holly watching me, silent. Excerpted from The Secret Place by Tana French All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

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