Crime fiction: a sole survivor is haunted by a family tragedy on a remote Scottish island

James Sallis has a modus operandi: never to waste a word. Sarah Jane (No Exit Press, £8.99) follows this stricture well, using a sparse yet poetic style to tell the story of a woman born on the wrong side of town to bad parents, who wanders from one lowly job to another, one unsavoury man to another, one trouble to another, living a life of chaos, until, led by some curiously twisted route, she takes a chance and decides to join the police, working small cases in a small town. When the local sheriff, Cal Phillips, disappears, Sarah Jane Pullman assumes the task of tracing his whereabouts, an undertaking that leads to unpleasant truths, both for herself and her late friend and mentor.

Sallis tracks her every movement in his custom-made manner, the prose as sharp as salt on a tequila drinker’s tongue. But that doesn’t mean the language is simple: it weaves a fine spell, digging deep into emotions and motives.