THE VAST cattle properties of the Australian Outback is the setting for The Lost Man by Jane Harper (Little Brown, £12.99).

In empty areas the size of British counties and in burning, never-ending heat, if you wander away from your vehicle you will die. There are no landmarks, no phone reception, no shade, no water and the nearest neighbours are hours away.

If anyone knows that, it is Cameron, who’d run cattle there all his life. So his family have to suppose that the only way he might meet his death out in the open is if he chose to.

It’s remembered, now that he’s dead, that he had seemed preoccupied in recent weeks, though no-one will admit to knowing why.

Everyone’s got secrets and in a place where lack of population makes interdependence necessary for survival, there are only limited ways of keeping them.

This is a terrifically gripping story of an unhappy family which refuses to surrender to unhappiness, in an atmosphere of struggle and loneliness where life is only sustained by ceaseless vigilance.

Briefly a TV star, now running drama workshops at a school in Croydon, Nick is arrested one evening at home in Little Liar by Lisa Ballantyne (Piatkus, £13.99).

A 12-year-old pupil has accused him of sexual assault. It’s obvious to everyone that the unpopular, unattractive girl craves attention. From fights at school to vicious verbal assaults on her mother, she seems determined to be as unlovable as she considers herself unloved. Nick is quite different — he’s handsome and charming, happy and talented.

But does being a liar mean Angela is not a victim? And does being not guilty mean Nick is innocent?

It’s by no means certain that either family, that of the accuser or the accused, will find a way to survive the consequences of Angela's accusation in this tense, unsettling psychological drama which in the end has more to do with strength and weakness than guilt or innocence.

Philosophical French cop Martin Servaz returns in Night by Bernard Minier (Mulholland Books, £14.99), as does the fugitive serial killer Julian Hirtmann.

The two men’s paths have crossed before but this time it’s unclear which is the pursuer and which the quarry and it soon becomes obvious that these two are not the only players in the game.

It’s impossible to avoid the phrase “over the top” when reviewing Minier’s extravagantly plotted thrillers but they are highly readable and deliver great entertainment.

In No Mercy by Joanna Schaffhausen (Titan, £7.99), Boston, Massachusetts cop Ellery Hathaway has murdered a murderer and got away with it — legally, at least.

But her bosses have put her on compulsory leave and she’s forced to attend a therapy group for victims of violence. She’d rather die than talk about her feelings, so distracts herself by investigating the unsolved rape which brought one of her fellow members to the group.

Schaffhausen plots a good mystery and Ellery is an intriguing character — prickly, damaged and shunning affection while desperately needing it.