The heiress to the fortune is Clarissa Cantelo, a self taught clairvoyant. Clarissa appears to be one of the smarter members of the family. She believes that someone within the family killed patriarch Merlyn, and she, as well as young Merlyn, the son of Thora, grandfather’s favorite daughter, is at risk. She sends young Merlyn abroad, but tells the family soon after he has left that he has died. Upon the death of Clarissa, young Merlyn, a successful lawyer, returns to claim his inheritance.

The would-be heirs are skeptical about this strange young man who has suddenly appeared. Is he really Merlyn? Clarissa had been very clear in reporting his death. The young man offers to undergo DNA testing, but getting samples of his long dead mother, or errant father may prove difficult.

Detective Charlie Peace, one of Barnard’s series regulars and his partner Mike Oddie supply some sorely needed assistance to Merlyn. Has a member of the family killed Grandfather Merlyn in hope of inheriting the family fortune? Was Clarissa also killed for the same reason? Merlyn must work carefully and quickly to avoid becoming a third victim.

As always, when Robert Barnard creates a family he does it well. The Cantelos are all unique, independent thinkers, even though, for the most part, they are decidedly wicked. The only thing they have ever agreed on is that their patriarch must die. Even then they do not trust one another to form a cohesive plan toward their common goal. They are all so busy watching their own backs that they miss what is happening in front of them. The family is a large one, and the novel is rather short (277 pages). None of the characters, with the exception of young Merlyn, is developed in depth, but they are odd enough that they are memorable.

It is not an easy task to combine humor with evil, but Barnard does so with aplomb. Witness young Merlyn’s conversation with his father. Merlyn is still somewhat afraid of his father’s temper and has no desire to be alone with him. His father, Jake makes the initial overture saying “I thought I had a lot of making up to do” to which Merlyn replies, “Ah, really? …Making up in the sense of reconciliation? Or would that be making up in the sense of compensating? Or would it, even, be making up in the sense of inventing, fabricating, concocting, making a fiction out of.” It is quite clear that Barnard has an excellent command of the English language.

Although the book would seem to be primarily character driven with a wealth of quirky characters, the plot, albeit deceptively simple, provides some unexpected twists and turns. We know, for example, that one of the family is probably responsible for Grandfather Merlyn’s death, and Clarissa’s for that matter, but Barnard still manages to insert some surprises to make life interesting. His comments on what makes a family provides a social commentary that is well worth one’s reflection.

The Graveyard Position proves once again that Barnard is not only a master storyteller, but an author who makes the English language work for him. The book is a delight to read just because the words fit so well together. The beauty of the language shines through.

--Andy Plonka