A Dead Man in Tangier

A Dead Man in Tangier by Michael Pearce
My rating: 4 of 5 stars



 Sandor Seymour, once a denizen of the polyglot streets of London's East End is now a member of of Scotland yard. In a way he is one of the precursors what is now known as the flying squad because in 1912 or so he is sent to many political hot spots to help solve sensitive murder cases. He is chosen for these jobs because of his facilities for languages, most of which he picked up as a youngster.


In this particular situation he is trundled off to exotic Morocco, in particular to Tangier where they speak both French and Arabic.
Morocco has been governed by Sultans in the past but the country has been in trouble and there has been some negotiations among the European countries, almost like trading baseball cards  the result of which a reorganization known as the French Protectorate is coming into play. When a prominent Frenchman in killed during a pig hunt and the cause is felt to be political outside help is called for.


Seymour personally avoids politics because he comes from a family of political refugees. Both of his parents learned the hard way what speaking out against governments in powers can bring about. His grandfather also was an activist for one cause or another so Seymour's main rebellion was joining the police which totally shocked his family.




In Morocco he finds the somewhat naive intellectual discussions among the students and nationalists very refreshing as these are people who truly hope for a better future. This historical background really added depth to the story and I found much of the history confirmed on Wikepidia.

Moroccan live by a certain etiquette called caida, a kind of tact, sensitivity and respect. For the most part they avoid alcohol. They felt the French, Spanish and Germans could not spend one evening without wine or whine. But Morocco was deteriorating, buildings were falling apart, alleyways were strewn with refuse and rotting vegetables. But here and there there were still beautiful old facades, exquisite wood carvings or perfect Moorish patio with delicate balconies.

Seymour had to tred a fine line to find the culprit but what he learned about the politics and the culture on the way gave me a lot to take home from this book.