Mark Edwards delivers his sixteenth psychological thriller with The Wasp Trap, a cleverly constructed novel that seamlessly weaves together two timelines to create a story that’s both nostalgic and terrifyingly contemporary. What begins as a simple dinner party reunion becomes a deadly game where past sins collide with present vengeance in the most unexpected ways.
The premise is deceptively straightforward: Will, a struggling writer, receives an invitation to reconnect with his former colleagues from a dotcom startup twenty-five years after their promising venture ended in tragedy. But from the moment he steps into Theo and Georgina’s upscale London home, Edwards masterfully builds an atmosphere of unease that permeates every page.
The Nostalgic Setup That Hooks You
Edwards demonstrates his storytelling prowess by grounding his thriller in the authentic feel of late 1990s internet culture. The flashbacks to that pivotal summer of 1999 are richly detailed, capturing the optimism and naivety of young graduates working on “Butterfly Net,” an ambitious dating website project housed in psychology professor Sebastian Marlowe’s country estate.
The author’s own experience working for an internet startup during the dotcom boom shines through in these sequences. The period details feel lived-in rather than researched, from the fruit-colored iMacs to the absence of mobile phones. This authenticity provides the perfect contrast to the present-day dinner party, where modern technology becomes both a weapon and a shield.
The ensemble cast of characters is Edwards’ greatest strength in the novel. Each member of the original group feels distinct and recognizable, carrying the weight of their shared history while harboring secrets that have shaped their adult lives. Will, our narrator, serves as an effective lens through which we experience both timelines, his writerly obsessions and romantic disappointments making him both relatable and unreliable.
The Psychological Elements That Elevate the Thriller
What sets The Wasp Trap apart from standard reunion-gone-wrong thrillers is Edwards’ sophisticated use of psychological themes. The central concept of Lily’s psychopath detection test—dubbed the “Wasp Trap”—provides both the historical catalyst for the tragedy and a chilling framework for the present-day confrontation.
Edwards demonstrates impressive knowledge of psychological profiling and testing methodology. The three-part test that Lily designs feels scientifically grounded while serving the narrative’s dramatic needs. The moral implications of labeling someone a psychopath, especially within a close-knit group, add layers of complexity that elevate this beyond a simple revenge thriller.
The author’s handling of the psychopathy theme is particularly nuanced. Rather than relying on stereotypical portrayals of psychopathic behavior, Edwards explores how such traits might manifest in seemingly ordinary people, and more importantly, how the fear of being labeled can drive desperate actions.
Pacing and Structure: A Masterclass in Tension Building
The novel’s structure alternates between the 1999 timeline and the present-day dinner party, with Edwards carefully controlling the release of information to maintain maximum suspense. The pacing is deliberately measured, allowing tension to build organically as we slowly piece together what really happened that fateful summer.
The dinner party sections are particularly effective, with Edwards using the familiar social dynamics of old friends reconnecting to create an undercurrent of menace. The introduction of Finn, the mysterious stranger at the table, serves as a perfect catalyst for unease, though Edwards cleverly subverts our expectations about his role in the unfolding drama.
However, the novel’s pacing occasionally stumbles in the middle sections. Some of the revelations about the characters’ current lives feel somewhat perfunctory, serving more to fill time than to meaningfully advance the plot or develop character. The revelation about Rohan’s attempted theft of the algorithm, while character-appropriate, feels like a minor betrayal among much larger sins.
Character Development: Complex but Uneven
Edwards excels at creating characters who feel like real people with complicated motivations rather than thriller archetypes. Lily’s guilt over her role in the original tragedy is particularly well-developed, her inability to discuss her traumatic experience with anyone feeling painfully authentic. Sophie’s transformation from the mystery-loving young woman to someone who actively avoids drama rings true to how people change over decades.
The standout character development belongs to Georgina, whose journey from apparently successful hostess to the story’s true antagonist is masterfully handled. Edwards plants subtle clues about her true nature throughout both timelines without making her villainy obvious. Her backstory about learning to fake appropriate emotional responses as a child is both chilling and psychologically credible.
Where the character work falters is with some of the supporting players. Theo remains somewhat underdeveloped despite his importance to the plot, and Rohan’s motivations feel inconsistent. The younger versions of these characters in the 1999 timeline often feel more fully realized than their present-day counterparts.
The Home Invasion Element: When Dinner Parties Turn Deadly
The shift from psychological tension to outright thriller occurs when Callum and Amber reveal their true intentions. This home invasion element, which Edwards had long wanted to incorporate into his work, feels organic to the story rather than forced. The connection between the invaders and the original tragedy is clever, though perhaps not entirely surprising to attentive readers.
Edwards handles the violent scenes with restraint, focusing more on the psychological impact than graphic detail. The use of Lily’s lie detector technology during the interrogation sequences is a particularly clever touch, turning her scientific achievement into an instrument of terror.
The revelation that Dominic has been alive all these years, imprisoned by Sebastian for psychological study, provides a satisfying explanation for the evening’s events while raising uncomfortable questions about justice and revenge.
Technical Craft: Dialogue and Atmosphere
Edwards demonstrates strong technical skills throughout the novel. His dialogue feels natural and age-appropriate, particularly in distinguishing between the characters’ younger and older voices. The group dynamics ring true, capturing both the ease of old friendships and the awkwardness that comes with decades of separation.
The atmospheric work is consistently strong. The contrast between the idyllic summer setting of 1999 and the claustrophobic London townhouse creates effective mood shifts. Edwards has a particular gift for making seemingly normal moments feel ominous, a skill essential for psychological thrillers.
The integration of technology as both plot device and thematic element is handled skillfully. The dating website project, the psychopath detection test, and even modern smartphones all serve narrative purposes beyond simple convenience.
Themes: Love, Loyalty, and the Masks We Wear
Beneath its thriller surface, The Wasp Trap explores deeper themes about identity, loyalty, and the long-term consequences of our actions. The novel asks difficult questions about what we owe to our friends, how well we can truly know another person, and whether some secrets are worth protecting regardless of the cost.
The theme of masks—both literal and metaphorical—runs throughout the novel. Sebastian’s quote about psychopaths being skilled at “social camouflage” applies to several characters, not just Dominic. The dinner party itself becomes a kind of performance where everyone is pretending to be someone they’re not.
Edwards also explores the corrupting nature of guilt and the ways people rationalize their actions. Lily’s creation of an alternate reality where Eve moved to London rather than died is a particularly poignant example of how trauma can reshape memory and truth.
Minor Criticisms: Where the Novel Occasionally Stumbles
While The Wasp Trap succeeds more often than it fails, there are some areas where Edwards’ execution doesn’t quite match his ambition. The novel’s length allows for thorough character development but occasionally results in pacing issues. Some scenes feel slightly indulgent, particularly in the present-day timeline where the dinner party conversation sometimes meanders.
The resolution, while satisfying, relies heavily on coincidence and convenient timing. Mia’s presence in the house and her timely intervention strain credibility slightly, though her emotional journey provides an effective counterpoint to her mother’s lack of empathy.
Some readers might find the psychological profiling elements oversimplified, though Edwards clearly did his research. The binary nature of the psychopath test results—you either are or aren’t—doesn’t fully reflect the complexity of personality disorders, though this simplification serves the story’s dramatic needs.
Comparisons: Edwards’ Place in the Psychological Thriller Landscape
The Wasp Trap demonstrates Edwards’ continued evolution as a writer while maintaining the psychological sophistication that has defined his career since The Magpies. The novel shares DNA with his earlier works like The Retreat and Here to Stay in its exploration of how past events echo into the present, but the dual timeline structure shows increased confidence in complex storytelling.
Readers who enjoyed Ruth Ware’s The Woman in Cabin 10 or Lucy Foley’s The Guest List will find much to appreciate in Edwards’ take on the confined-location thriller. However, Edwards brings a deeper psychological understanding to his characters that sets him apart from some of his contemporaries in the domestic thriller genre.
The novel also bears comparison to classic works like Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None, though Edwards updates the formula with contemporary concerns about technology, privacy, and identity.
Similar Books Worth Reading
For readers captivated by The Wasp Trap, several other novels explore similar themes:
- The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides – Another psychologically sophisticated thriller that questions our understanding of mental illness
- Big Little Lies by Liane Moriarty – Explores how past secrets impact present relationships within a group of friends
- The Thursday Murder Club by Richard Osman – Features amateur detection and the long reach of past crimes
- The Hunting Party by Lucy Foley – A reunion weekend that turns deadly with multiple timeline reveals
- Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn – Masterful psychological manipulation and unreliable narration
Final Verdict: A Satisfying Addition to Edwards’ Canon
The Wasp Trap succeeds as both a nostalgic trip to the dawn of the internet age and a taut psychological thriller. Edwards demonstrates his maturity as a writer by balancing multiple timelines and a large cast of characters while maintaining narrative momentum and emotional authenticity.
While the novel has minor pacing issues and occasionally relies on convenient coincidences, these flaws don’t significantly detract from the overall experience. The psychological depth, particularly in exploring themes of guilt, identity, and the masks we wear in social situations, elevates this above standard thriller fare.
Edwards has crafted a novel that works on multiple levels: as a mystery to be solved, as a psychological study of damaged people, and as a meditation on friendship and the weight of shared secrets. The resolution feels earned rather than forced, and the emotional consequences of the characters’ actions resonate beyond the final page.
For fans of Edwards’ previous work, The Wasp Trap represents a successful evolution of his themes and techniques. For newcomers to his writing, it serves as an excellent introduction to an author who understands that the best thrillers are ultimately about people, not just plot machinations.
This is a book that will stick with readers, prompting them to reconsider how well they truly know the people closest to them—and perhaps more disturbingly, how well they know themselves.