Meny

Sample of literary figures

  • Harry Bosch

    Male

    He is actually called Hieronymus Bosch, but calls himself – for understandable reasons – Harry. His mother was a prostitute and was murdered; his father is a well-known lawyer whom he first met as an adult. Harry Bosch was a soldier and then became a police officer, mainly in Los Angeles. And he was also the main character in a whole row of detective stories by Michael Connelly.

    Further reading

  • 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

  • Logan McRae

    Male

    Author Stuart MacBride paints a picture of a dark and gloomy Aberdeen, where police detective Logan McRae investigates cases which include a lot of violence – sometimes against children. He, himself, has a background which is not entirely without blemishes, and sometimes he is wounded on duty or is transferred after breaking various rules. He is tired, often unshaven and a bit shabby-looking, but nevertheless has a permanent, if somewhat shaky, relationship with Samantha.

    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