Hock and partridge help fascism go down in 1930s London

Anthony Quinn’s fourth novel, set in London’s artistic and theatrical circles in 1936, is not the kind in which an anguished protagonist sits in lonely contemplation for 80 pages at a stretch. It moves along at a clippy pace, introducing us to a succession of appealing characters and throwing in a lurid murder for extra oomph. But despite its wealth of detail — the lino-clad corridors and ‘mournful furniture’ of a Marylebone boarding-house, lamplighters doing their rounds, actresses wearing Guerlain’s Jicky — it is more substantial than a period romp. As the ‘Tiepin Killer’ — so-called because he pierces the tongues of his victims with a tiepin once he’s strangled them — both terrorises and fascinates London, there are other horrors to contemplate. British fascism is on the march (Oswald Mosley hovers offstage and Lord Haw-Haw makes a deeply unpleasant appearance), women are forced into prostitution by unscrupulous pimps and homosexuals live in precarious concealment.