Meny

Sample of literary figures

  • Martine Poirot

    Female

    An investigating judge in the fictive little Belgian town Villette-sur-Meuse, where she lives with her husband, the Swedish Professor Thomas Héger, a specialist in Medieval History, and (eventually) their two children. Martine Poirot – the author Ingrid Hedström is very fond of whodunnnits à la Agatha Christie – is 34 years old when we meet her for the first time. She is attractive and picks her clothes carefully as well as being a skilful and stubborn crime investigator.

    Further reading

  • Gavin Troy

    Male

    Troy is a detective in the fictive English county of Midsomer, and Chief Inspector Tom Barnaby’s right hand. In Caroline Graham’s novel, Tory is a clever and intelligent police officer, but his prejudices – he is, for example, a homophobe – and rather abrupt manner speak against him. In the TV series <i>Midsomer Murders</i>, his personality has been ‘corrected’ and he is decidedly more sympathetic, and is still a skilled investigator.

    Further reading

  • Lisa Mattei

    Female

    In 2005, Leif G.W. Persson wrote about the young detective inspector Lisa Mattei; ten years later, she is a middle-aged operations manager for the Swedish security services. She made a rapid career, but has a bad conscience because she rarely has time to be with her family, her husband Johan and her daughter Ella. She has private means, and is something of a connoisseur when it comes to clothes, for example. But she is also a gifted and skilful police officer.

    Further reading

  • Malcolm Fox

    Male

    He isn’t loved by his colleagues in the police force, because his job is to investigate occurrences of professional misconduct. Malcolm Fox is a well-built and divorced middle-aged man, who worries about his father’s delicate health and his alcoholic sister – he, himself, has been a teetotaller for a long time. He works in Edinburgh, where he cooperates with another of author Ian Rankins’ main characters: John Rebus.

    Further reading