Harini Nagendra’s Murder Under a Red Moon picks up from where the first book in her Bangalore Detectives Club series left off. Fresh off a successful case, Kaveri, the 19-year-old detective of a protagonist, finds herself in a precarious relationship with her mother-in-law, Bhargavi. The latter does not approve of Kaveri’s new-found hobby, her intention to study further or taking driving lessons. For her, a daughter-in-law’s sole duty is to be a good wife.
Kaveri, however, having found unlikely allies in her husband Ramu, her next door neighbour and student Uma aunty and inspector Ismail, continues her pursuit of all things forbidden. Things take a turn for the better, ironically, when she is approached by her mother-in-law to investigate suspicions of embezzlement in a relative’s business, leading to his murder. His wife, also Bhargavi’s cousin, becomes the main suspect. Kaveri’s life is endangered on several occasions by a ruthless killer feigning as a godman, but eventually, the mystery is solved. And in the process, the protagonist also busts a cocaine smuggling ring.
The narrative is free-flowing, making the book an easy and quick read. The portrayal of Kaveri as an ambitious, kindhearted and generous detective is nuanced, especially when pitted against the equally well-sketched antagonist—the charismatic but vile godman. The novel, however, quite like its predecessor, fails the genre of crime thrillers. To begin with, there isn’t a lot of suspense to help sustain the reader’s interest.
Much of the focus of what seems to be a disappointing tribute to Alexander McCall Smith’s The No.1 Ladies Detective Agency is on undertaking social issues of the time—there’s caste politics and women empowerment––at the expense of the chase that one reads mysteries for.
The author goes into needless details about local customs, food, clothing, the coffee industry, a magazine for Indian women as well as the suffragette movement, which while interesting to read, add little to the momentum of the plot. Too many pages are also dedicated to Kaveri’s social and married life. Those who have read the first book will know that Nagendra spent a fair amount of text to recreate the colonial setting of the times. The author, however, seems to have omitted that completely from the sequel, leaving little for first-time readers to imagine about the backdrop.
One thing Nagendra has retained from the previous instalment though is the bunch of recipes that Kaveri tries to cook for her husband. This time there’s the South Indian filter coffee, musk melon rasayana, maddur vada, uppittu and coconut barfi, and we aren’t complaining about that.