Prisoner of Birth
by Jeffrey Archer
Macmillan, HK$313
Jeffrey Archer's 14th novel, A Prisoner of Birth, begins with an unusually decent proposal: Danny Cartwright, an ill-educated but streetwise mechanic from London's East End, asks his long-time girlfriend to marry him. When Beth says yes, the affianced couple repair not to the bedroom (this is Jeffrey Archer, not Jackie Collins) but a swanky bar to share their glad tidings with Bernie, Danny's best friend and Beth's brother.
The trio are so happy in each other's company that disaster, it almost goes without saying, cannot be far behind (this is Jeffrey Archer, not Mills and Boon). This arrives when a quartet of dastardly poshos disturbs the peace. They are an actor, a lawyer, an estate agent and an unemployed drug addict. Archer only needed an arms dealer, politician and child pornographer to complete a full house of nasty professions. A fight ensues during which Bernie is stabbed to death.
Here ends the set-up. What Archer does next is the literary equivalent of whisking away the cloth from beneath the paraphernalia on a well-laid table. But he wants to send everything he has arranged so carefully crashing to the ground. We know they'll re-assemble later (and with far more expensive pieces), but for Archer the drama's the thing.
So, although Bernie's murder was committed by supremely smug lawyer Spencer Craig, it is the innocent, working-class Danny what is found guilty, M'lud. Sentenced to two decades in Belmarsh Prison (where, incidentally, Archer served part of his own sentence for perjury), he is separated from fiancee, family and beloved football team - although, as a fan of West Ham United, this may be a blessing in disguise.