London, May 1951: In a posh restaurant a stone's throw away from the Ritz, a man waits for his wife to join him for dinner. A waiter appears with a bottle of wine on ice; thinking his wife has ordered it, the man smiles, but when he sees the label, his face turns white.
Malta, May 1942: Major Max Chadwick summons a waiter to order coffee, and explains to his new assistant, Pemberton, his duties at the Information Office--manipulating the news to aid the British war effort by keeping Maltese spirits up. Not an easy job; in the last two months, the tiny island has been hit by twice the tonnage of bombs than fell on London in the worst 12 months of the Blitz. British airmen are the only ones capable of carrying the battle to the enemy, but regrettably they have few Spitfires, and the artillery banks have been rationed to 15 rounds per gun per day. The only hope is for more planes, but no one knows if and when they will arrive.
These two events, 11 years apart, are connected by something about to make Chadwick's job much more difficult: the discovery of a brutally murdered local woman, a sherry queen, as bar hostesses were called. He soon finds that this is the third murder of a young woman on the island, and if the murders become public knowledge, local support for the British could tip against them, since one clue points toward a British submarine officer. Further complicating Chadwick's life, the officer is the husband of Chadwick's lover.
The plot in Mills's novel has twists that keep the reader guessing and reassessing until the last page. There is a traitor on the island, a soulless man who has learned to manufacture emotions. The obvious murderer is the submariner, the dark horse is Elliott, a mysterious American liaison officer, and Max's other friends--Freddie, a British doctor, and Ralph, an injured British pilot--may also be involved.
Equally as interesting as the mystery is Mills's description of World War II Malta, an island whose history is "rich, romantic and violent." The Maltese, with "their wry humour, their rough savoir faire, and their burning faith," must flee every day and night to underground shelters, but "what good were soaring battlements against an enemy who assaulted you from the air with bombs? All you could do was cower and pray. The cowering had helped a little, saved a few lives, but the prayers had fallen on deaf ears." The tensions between the Maltese and the British are played out in subtle ways. The cocktail hours at a commander's house are spent without local help to pour the drinks, because "it wouldn't be good for relations if the Maltese staff were to witness the excesses of their brothers in suffering." And there's the almost unbearable stress of everyone knowing that Malta was a dumping ground for Britain's shabbiest aircraft and least promising pilots. "Heavy drinking was just about the fastest route to an early grave for a fighter pilot, but given the shortage of serviceable aircraft on the island, almost everyone present could guarantee they wouldn't be flying the following day." But all hands make more than the best of it, and the bravery of both the Maltese and the British are astounding. In The Information Officer, Mark Mills has written both a satisfying thriller and a testament to an important but little-known part of World War II.--Marilyn Dahl
Shelf Talker: A mystery set on Malta during World War II, with satisfying plot twists and rich descriptions of a fascinating island, people and period of history.