Countdown to gore

>> Birdman is a sharp, plot-driven thriller

by JULIET WATERS

When the bodies of five prostitutes are discovered buried near the Millennium Dome in North Greenwich, the British media predictably dub the serial killer the "Millennium Ripper." But that's about as predictable as Birdman, Mo Hayder's first novel, ever gets.

Given how sick everyone is by now of the M-word, I don't think I'm ruining anything by revealing that the murders have nothing to do with the turn of the century and that after the first few chapters the word will never come up again. Other things that are worth knowing in advance are that it's a page turner, so if you pick it up planning to spend the entire evening at home make sure you have good locks, because it's creepy as hell; and, finally, Birdman is absolutely not a book for bird lovers.

This is D.I. Jack Caffery's first case as part of a London homicide investigation squad, and it's doubtful he'll ever get a worse one. The first body found has been so mutilated it's barely recognizable as a body. Because it seems to have been put through a ritual akin to an autopsy, the investigators think this might be some kind of medical school prank. But after the next four bodies are discovered, the team pathologist theorizes that even though the perpetrator has had some sophisticated medical training, the stitching is amateur. Also, the killer has left a bizarre signature: stitched inside the chest cavity of each body is a tiny dead bird.

Profiling is frowned on by this police squad. As far as they're concerned, the lead suspect is whoever the evidence points to. When the first suspect is a young, black drug dealer, Caffery's protests about the statistical improbability of a black serial killer are shot down.

Job frustration, however, is the least of Caffery's many problems. He's falling in love with a witness, a beautiful, leggy artist who seems to return his attraction. Unfortunately, the excruciating, manipulative girlfriend he's been trying to dump might have cancer. And this is just the poison icing on the layers of tragedy that make up Caffery's emotional history. Many years ago, Caffery's younger brother disappeared. Convinced he was murdered by the pedophile neighbour who lived next door, Caffery, at age 34, lives in the same house his parents have long since fled. All the while, his mentally ill neighbour continues to taunt him with a cat and mouse game that maintains Caffery's belief in his guilt.

Despite Caffery's history, Birdman is not, for the most part, a psychological thriller. It's extremely plot-driven and, as such, a tour de force. But to discuss the novel's carefully woven, consistently surprising plot, would be to ruin the book's greatest pleasure.

Hayder's major strength is her ability to cut the reader a lot of slack, then suddenly, without any warning, crank up the tension. Her other talent is a good ear for dialogue. According to her bio, Hayder's been a barmaid, security guard, filmmaker, hostess in a Tokyo club, educational administrator and TESL teacher in Vietnam. From this broad experience she creates an interesting spectrum of supporting characters. In fact, one wishes she'd spend less time in Jack Caffery's head and more time in the demimonde from which the serial killer is selecting victims. She obviously has the ability to go there and make it interesting, but for some reason stays away. And while Caffery is sexy, he can be a bit too long-suffering.

One pleasant surprise, given the gruesomeness of the murders, is that the first two-thirds of the novel are relatively non-violent. However, once the violence starts, it pours. To the point where Birdman starts to resemble a humourless Coen brother movie. In the end it's too much. But, on the balance, the discipline and talent Hayder shows throughout most of the book outweighs its worst excesses. :

Birdman by Mo Hayder, Knopf Canada, hc, 327 pp, $32.95