The Insider: A Novel

Solomon Vine, former head of counterespionage at MI6, has been sidelined after the events of Matthew Richardson’s debut, My Name Is Nobody. Yet after an exoligarch is murdered in London, he’s called back into the fray to uncover the Russian mole among four high-flyers about to reach the top in Whitehall. So far, so John le Carre, and indeed, for a young writer there are a perhaps surprising number of homages to classics of the spy genre. Vine, for instance, although rather more cerebral than James Bond, lives — as 007 did — in Wellington Square, Chelsea.

It takes him time to get into gear but Richardson has fun sending Vine along a trail that runs through the London Library and the Special Forces Club. However, the writing has yet to gain the necessary authority and the notion that Vine might work out the identity of the traitor from perfunctory interviews is unconvincing. There are some intriguing ideas here, at times well realised, but The Insider feels like apprentice work. Tinker tailor soldier spad.