Career of Evil

Robin fulfills the genre role of the private detective’s sidekick. However, she is portrayed as more than just a supportive assistant. A co-protagonist with her own arc and ambitions, she has a long-standing interest in investigative work, which becomes central to her identity. Beginning as a temporary secretary to Strike in The Cuckoo’s Calling, Robin has professionally progressed. After completing a criminal investigation course, she is keen to prove herself as a private investigator and worthy partner to Strike.

Robin is physically notable for her distinctive “bright, wavy strawberry-blonde” (145) hair. Intelligent and determined, she also possesses exceptional observational skills, illustrated by her meticulous description of the courier who delivers the severed leg, despite his concealment of his face. Her background and personal attributes mark her as a foil to Strike. Robin’s stable upper-middle-class childhood, characterized by “a Labrador and a Land Rover and a pony” (390), contrasts with Strike’s chaotic and economically deprived upbringing. Her friendliness, open empathy, and “easy, unforced kindness” (347) balance Strike’s often brusque manner when questioning people. Robin’s practical skills also complement Strike’s. Her training in psychology gives her insight into effective questioning tactics. This talent is showcased when Robin poses as personal injury lawyer Venetia Hall, successfully overcoming Holly Brockbank’s hostility with the promise of financial reward. Robin’s advanced driving skills also benefit Strike, whose amputated leg prohibits him from driving anything but an automatic vehicle.

Robin’s character continues to develop in Career of Evil as her backstory is foregrounded. The revelation that she left university after being raped reframes readers’ understanding of her character, shedding light on her resilience and motivations as an investigator. A determination to be a survivor and not a victim drives her work in criminal investigation and her desire to help other women. Robin’s resolve to play an active part in the investigation of the severed leg, even while under direct threat from the killer, highlights female agency in the face of Misogyny and Violence Against Women. Nevertheless, Robin illustrates the human cost of solving crime as she is deeply affected by the case on a personal level.

Donald Laing is revealed to be the serial killer and the novel’s primary antagonist; he is the narrative’s foremost embodiment of Misogyny and Violence Against Women. A former soldier in the King’s Own Royal Border Regiment, he served a prison sentence for the brutal sexual torture of his ex-wife, Rhona. Taking revenge on Strike, who discovered and exposed this horrific crime, is “the central ambition of his life” (47). Strike recalls Laing’s physical appearance in bestial terms, describing him as possessing “eyes like a ferret’s” (23), and his hair as reminiscent of “the dark red of fox fur” (122). These figurative comparisons of Laing to a wild animal reflect the feral nature he revealed when he bit Strike’s face in a boxing match.

The chapters written from Laing’s perspective as he stalks Robin intensify the novel’s ominous atmosphere and narrative tension. Skilled in surveillance tactics, he remains unseen and elusive. Laing’s narrative also provides a disturbing insight into his deeply misogynistic perspective. His references to Robin as “The Secretary” and his partner, Hazel, as “It,” highlight a need to strip women of their identities. This dehumanizing process is further illustrated by his compulsion to murder and butcher women, reducing them to inert body parts. His description of women as “petty, mean, dirty, and small” (2) conveys both his hatred and his sense of superiority. However, Galbraith emphasizes the inherent irony of Laing’s grandiosity as he admits to being financially dependent on Hazel.

Laing boasts, “Switching on the charm, drawing them in and keeping them sweet was easy, second nature to him” (341). The truth of this assertion is highlighted by the contrast between his warped narrative and how most people perceive him. His former partner, Lorraine MacNaughton, talks almost fondly of him, although he stole from her, and appears shocked at the suggestion that he is capable of violence. Strike’s colleague in Special Investigative Branch was also taken in by Laing, concluding that he was likeable and innocent of a violent rape. Laing’s ability to pass as harmlessly pleasant in public while indulging depraved impulses in private is symbolized in the duality of his living spaces. He has a life of apparent suburban respectability with Hazel, but also rents a filthy hideout where he keeps women’s body parts and can express his true nature.

Laing’s narrative charts his development as a murderer as he progresses from keeping his victims’ jewelry to hacking off and retaining their body parts. The modification of his rose tattoo to feature a dagger and drops of blood reflects his emerging identity as a serial killer. Laing’s character is reminiscent of the serial killer Ted Bundy, who infamously faked injuries to gain women’s trust. Throughout the novel, witnesses describe Laing as experiencing the disabling effects of psoriatic arthritis. This minimizes the threat he poses, making him appear the least likely suspect to misdirect readers. Laing later admits that his crutches are a “prop” allowing him to gain “the sympathy of gullible women” (565).

Jeff Whittaker is Strike’s former stepfather and a prime suspect. His character contributes to Galbraith’s exploration of The Past’s Impact on the Present. Strike believes that Whittaker killed Strike’s mother, Leda, years earlier; this makes Strike suspect that Whittaker is also the sender of the severed leg. The line of inquiry forces Strike to confront traumatic childhood memories, providing greater insight into his character.

The novel reveals that while Leda was a loving mother, her often dysfunctional life had a devastating impact on her son. Readers learn that she had a series of abusive partners, culminating in would-be musician Whittaker. Galbraith highlights the visceral nature of Strike’s memories of Whittaker: “He had been forced to breathe in the man’s stench as he did his homework of an evening in the squat; he had almost been able to taste him” (66). Strike’s vivid recollection of Whittaker’s unpleasant aroma underlines the psychological damage his stepfather inflicted on him as a child.

Whittaker is described as wild and intense, possessing “the kind of eyes that might have belonged to an opium-crazed poet, or a heretic priest” (43). Despite his cruelty and violence, he has a “strange magnetic pull over females” (407). Like Laing, he is depicted as “parasitic,” feeding off women while offering nothing positive in return. Whittaker’s craving for celebrity and wealth drew him to Leda, who was “famous for sleeping with the famous” (73). Meanwhile, in the present, he profits from his girlfriend Stephanie’s earnings as a sex worker. His physical and psychological abuse of Stephanie demonstrates that Whittaker is a static character who has not evolved since Strike first knew him.