The geology of suspense

Film buffs might recognise the name of Dutch author Tim Krabbè. He adapted one of his novels for the screenplay of the film The Vanishing, which was an unusually intelligent, eerily atmospheric thriller made in Holland about a young woman on holiday who inexplicably disappears at a service station. Several years later, the inevitable American version of the movie emerged, stripped of subtlety, lacking any of the psychological intrigue and resonance which made the original so chilling.

As for the rest of Krabbè's considerable output of novels, collections of short stories and poetry (not to mention his equally numerous volumes on chess), The Cave is only his second novel to have made it into English - thankfully, in a very sharp translation - and has also been made into a Dutch film. Set in a fictional South-East Asian country, the devilishly drawn-out opening sequence recalls the start of another film, Midnight Express. In the hours before a crucial, drug-related rendezvous from which he hopes to make $40,000, the main character, a seemingly respectable geologist by the name of Egon Wagter, gets ready, grappling with ever-escalating paranoia.

So far, so generic. The story then shifts gear, backtracking into the past, to show us how (and why) Egon reaches this point. We cut to Amsterdam central station many years before. A group of adolescents is about to go off to summer camp in the Belgian Ardennes, where Egon first falls in love, first sleeps with a girl, visits the cave of the title, and meets Axel van de Graaf, a character who comes to dominate him more and more over the years. Axel's dangerous charisma is like a spell which "roared over you, making you believe that what he wanted was the thing to do".

In a series of concise, evocative scenes, Krabbè follows the arc of Egon and Axel's divergent lives. Egon goes to college to study geology, takes research trips to the Andes now and then, and becomes a teacher. Meanwhile Axel, his dark twin, entwines himself in Amsterdam's criminal world and soon reaches the heights of worldly success and notoriety. A vast amount of ground is covered in very little time, as Krabbè sketches in the pivotal moments of his characters' lives with rare delicacy and perception, never letting go of the taut thread of suspense which runs throughout the book.

Of course, the plot goes much further, but its puzzles and revelations are constructed so neatly that any summary must stop here. With an uncanny symmetry (which does strain credulity at times), each seemingly incidental event plays some larger role in the story than at first appears. All of which makes for a very satisfying psychological drama, as the host of narrative details slot snugly into place. But it's almost too perfect. A few more unpredictable cracks in the structural paintwork and it might have been a masterpiece. As it is, it will merely have you tearing through the pages.