so-soI wasn‘t sure what to make of this crime novel. It‘s a police procedural but the inspector doesn‘t follow any procedures & is a dissolute character. Things seem to happen randomly & for much of the book there don‘t appear to be any suspects (so you can‘t have fun guessing whodunnit). But I liked Inspector Hunkel‘s quirky, honest relationship with his girlfriend, the sense of place in foggy Basel & his unpretentious honesty.
He liked sitting there and talking to writers. They talked about their fellow author Rainer Brambach, who'd died twenty years ago. Simply fallen off his bicycle and dead, the best of them all. About Dieter Fringeli, who'd drunk himself to death....
"Basically, Basel's a poet's town," Lutz maintained, "full of hidden beauty, full of poetry. Though hardly anyone notices. That's why the authors in this town come to a bad end."
Hunkeler dumped the money for his coffee down on the table and left. He was now really furious. He hated these pubs, he hated this town, he hated his profession. Riff-raff the lot of them, he thought. Do nothing, don't work, sit around drawing their pensions. And are even loved.
Basel Killings | 
