Meny

Sample of literary figures

  • Hafez el-Assad

    Male

    He is simply called Assad by his colleagues in the crime novels by Danish writer Jussi Adler-Olsen. Despite lacking formal qualifications, he is employed in the police department’s so-called ‘cold-case’ group. He generously shares of his knowledge of, for example, various types of weapons, but is not keen to talk about himself. Assad has his roots in an Arab country, probably Syria, and has certain difficulties with the Danish language.

    Further reading

  • Mma Makutsi

    Female

    She struggles with her poor skin and unflattering spectacles, but Mma Grace Makutsi has impressively high grades from her secretarial course and is a lady with skin on her nose and a sharp tongue. In Alexander McCall Smith’s suite of novels about The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency in Botswana’s capital Gaborone, Mma Makutsi is first employed, but after a while becomes a part-owner of the agency. She is also happily married to Phuti Radiphuti.

    Further reading

  • Tuppence Beresford

    Female

    She is actually called Prudence Cowley Beresford, but is known as Tuppence by everyone, including her husband. She is not exactly beautiful, but has a sharp mind and is charming, and she is quite often the one who finds vital clues in the cases that the couple solve in detective stories by Agatha Christie. Now and then the solutions are based more upon Tuppence’s intuition than upon logic. In the last book about them, they are both 70+.

    Further reading

  • Alex Recht

    Male

    In the Stockholm C.I.D., Detective Chief Inspector Alex Recht is something of a legend. With more than 30 years’ service and a large number of hard-to-solve cases behind him, he starts – even though he loves his job – to look forward to retirement and to being able to spend more time with his wife, Lena, with whom he has been married almost as long as he has been a police officer. In the books by Kristina Ohlsson he usually works together with Fredrika Bergman.

    Further reading