‘Dark Corners’ review: Ruth Rendell masterly in final novel

Including those she published as Barbara Vine, “Dark Corners” is Ruth Rendell’s 66th novel — and her last. Rendell, who was made a life peer as Baroness Rendell of Babergh in 1997, died in May this year at the age of 85. Throughout her prolific output, she maintained high standards, winning three American Edgars and multiple British awards for best mystery novel.

As a longtime fan of Rendell’s work, I naturally wanted to give “Dark Corners” a positive review, and luckily it deserves one. Its antihero is 23-year-old Carl Martin, who as the story opens is riding high. His first novel is about to be published, and his loving girlfriend, Nicola, moves into the house he has inherited from his father in an up-and-coming London neighborhood. Like the vast majority of novelists, though, Carl can’t live on his royalties alone. Rather than take a day job, he decides to rent out the top floor of the house and accepts the first applicant to stop by, one Dermot McKinnon.

All is placid under Carl’s roof until he makes a mistake. His dad took a great many alternative medicines, among them diet pills that Carl, always looking for ways to make money, sells to a chubby female friend. She takes some of the pills and dies; though ruled accidental, her death makes the papers.

Dermot snooped around enough to notice the pills in a medicine chest, and he also observed Carl making the sale. When the first of the month rolls around, Dermot refuses to pay his rent. When Carl objects, Dermot threatens to call the police. Unwilling to face the humiliation of having sold his friend the instrument of her death, Carl has to put up with “inverted blackmail,” allowing Dermot not to pay rent.

This might be barely tolerable if it weren’t for Dermot’s sanctimonious hostility. He takes over the backyard garden. He noisily drops things on the floor. He upbraids Carl for living with Nicola without the benefit of marriage. He insinuates that he can betray Carl’s secret anytime he wants. The wear and tear on Carl’s nerves is heavy. He stalls on that second novel. He can’t sleep at night.

“This torment will go on for ever, for the rest of my life,” he complains to Nicola. “I shall live in this house or another house and he will be there with me, wherever it is. He will never go and I can’t get rid of him.” How Carl copes with that “torment” is the central question of “Dark Corners,” which Rendell narrates with seasoned expertise.

The completion of her work calls for a retrospective. Here are some of my favorites among her novels:

“A Judgement in Stone” (1977): A mystery that pivots on the lead character’s illiteracy.“A Dark-Adapted Eye” (1986): The first and arguably the best novel by Barbara Vine, who wrote with less regard for the mystery genre’s conventions than her alter ego.

“Talking to Strange Men” (1987): A brilliantly intricate story of messages left in secret places, of spying and double-crosses, in which adult causes get mixed up in the games of schoolboys.

“The Bridesmaid” (1989): Some readers find Rendell’s mysteries too dark, their abnormal psychology too disturbing. If you’re among them, this gripping portrait of a female psychopath is definitely not for you.

“Grasshopper” (2000): A Barbara Vine production boasting one of the most unusual settings in all of literature. Much of the action takes place on the rooftops of London, where urban climbers perform feats to rival those of their counterparts in the Himalayas.

Let me finish by saluting the late Baroness Rendell in the proper British fashion: Well done, my lady.