Tuesday, 23 April 2024

Party Games

I've just had word that our game is off for the third successive weekend this Saturday. So much for the cricket season eh? We might change the club name to Aardvark CC to try and win it on alphabetical order. Fear not though, there will be some action at Tynemouth CC on Saturday 10th August. Not only are Tynemouth 3s hosting Newcastle 3s, but there is the small matter of my 60th birthday do that night. Almost all of you are invited (other than supporters of Heaton Stannington FC who will not be allowed entry), and I'll set up a Facebook thingy when I get round to it. In the mean time, I've devised a playlist for the evening; one track from every year of my life. The exceptions are: 2024, as I've not decided on which one yet, 2007 and 2000, where nothing springs to mind. Any suggestions? Anyway, if you're coming, let me know so I can get an idea of numbers for catering.



1964

House of the Rising Sun

The Animals

1965

Like a Rolling Stone

Bob Dylan

1966

Hey  Joe

Jimi Hendrix

1967

Waiting for the Man

The Velvet Underground

1968

All Along the Watchtower

Jimi Hendrix

1969

Si Tu Dois Partir

Fairport Convention

1970

Road to Kingdom Come

Lindisfarne

1971

Maggie May

Rod Stewart

1972

Whiskey in the Jar

Thin Lizzy

1973

In Every Dream Home a Heartache

Roxy Music

1974

Here Come the Warm Jets

Brian Eno

1975

Gloria

Patti Smith

1976

Blank Generation

Richard Hell & the Void-Oids

1977

Like a Hurricane

Neil Young

1978

Where Were You?

The Mekons

1979

Fairytale in the Supermarket

The Raincoats

1980

Blue Boy

Orange Juice

1981

To Hell with Povertu

Gang of Four

1982

The Figurehead

The Cure

1983

The Cutter

Echo & The Bunnymen

1984

Just Like Honey

Jesus & Mary Chain

1985

Take the Skinheads Bowling

Camper Van Beethoven

1986

Almost Prayed

The Weather Prophets

1987

Kotton Krown

Sonic Youth

1988

Freak Scene

Dinosaur Jr

1989

Kennedy

The Wedding Present

1990

Everything Flows

Teenage Fanclub

1991

Feed me with Your Kisses

My Bloody Valentine

1992

Brand New Love

Sebadoh

1993

Marbles

Tindersticks

1994

Cut My Hair

Pavement

1995

6AM Jullander Shere

Cornershop

1996

Skin Diving

The Wedding Present

1997

Autumn Sweater

Yo La Tengo

1998

Ol' Gang

The Fall

1999

Prayer to God

Shellac

2000

?

?

2001

My Father My King

Mogwai

2002

Lessons Learned from Rocky I to Rocky III

Cornershop

2003

Lately

British Sea Power

2004

Renaissance Kid

Golden Virgins

2005

It's All in my Mind

Teenage Fanclub

2006

Young Bride

Midlake

2007

?

?

2008

Waving Flags

British Sea Power

2009

Calvary Cross

Black Flowers

2010

Just as the Rainbow

Trembling Bells

2011

Who's in Control?

British Sea Power

2012

Mladic

Godspeed You! Black Emperor

2013

Check Your Heart

The Pastels

2014

Dude Incredible

Shellac

2015

The Wide Majestic Aire

Trembling Bells

2016

The Parting Song

Aidan Moffat

2017

The Old Triangle

Trembling Bells

2018

Christ's Entry into Govan

Trembling Bells

2019

Night Visiting Song

Alex Rex

2020

New Partner

Three Queens in Mourning

2021

Ceiling Granny

Mogwai

2022

Kneading

Jill Lorean

2023

Foreign Land

Teenage Fanclub

2024

?

?

 







Tuesday, 16 April 2024

Steps Forward

Newcastle United; not a bad old month....


The last time I blogged about Newcastle United (https://payaso-de-mierda.blogspot.com/2024/03/drowning.html), things were looking grim. We’d just been timidly ejected from the FA Cup by a Man City team who didn’t need to change out of their slippers to sedately progress to the semi-finals. Not only that, but circumstances were also coming to a head in the Premier League, to the extent that it was more than likely we’d find ourselves in the bottom half within days. Still, look where we were two years ago eh? This set of unpromising circumstances resulted in Mental Mickey completely blowing a gasket and lashing out in every possible direction in his weekly diatribe as we had lost a game of football: owners, management, players and fans, especially the on-line hotheads, were all castigated from on high. I’m not sure whether someone staged an intervention or not, but he disappeared into the ether for a few weeks rest and recuperation, before returning in a more temperate frame of mind a couple of days ago with an anodyne missive that could have been cut and pasted from Lee Ryder’s Big Book of Obsequious Cliches.

After his latest meltdown, I reflected that, with about 2 notable exceptions, the entire cast of beautiful people who’ve set themselves up as the advanced sections of Newcastle United support, whether it’s the True Farce clowns, Denver and his band of Anti-Semitic Islamophobes or the Chronophilic Podcasting Pals of the House of Saud, are only in it for themselves. The Brainless Trust’s ultimate goal seems to be a narcissistic desire to get their grids and dull opinions all over Cyberland, with the accumulation of freebies and cash a distant second motive, rather than any wish to advance the cause of Newcastle United. The exceptions to this rule, as far as I’m concerned, are the fantastic folks behind the NUFC Food Bank collections who keep on grafting in a quiet, sincere way, for the benefit of the most vulnerable residents of our city. You know who these people are and, if you’ve any humility about you, you’ll agree with both my description of them and the fact I don’t need to name names, as they’re not in it for any kind of ego trip.

I think also that NUST are due for plenty of praise in how they are evolving. From a promising debut back in 2008, their integrity and raison d’etre fell away rapidly, to the extent that the organisation became a safe house for corrupt and craven fraudsters, including some who went to jail for getting their hands trapped in the till. A few years under the thumb of True Farce saw them turned into humourless, moribund, emasculated ideologues, more concerned with relentlessly pursuing vendettas against those who didn’t slavishly toe the line, but now, having emerged from that pitiful period, they’re getting on with the job they were formed to do in the first place. Namely, as the only properly constituted, organised member led supporters’ organisation that Newcastle United has, they’re here to ask the hard questions, about ticketing, prices and the future direction of the club as a whole (which is of considerably greater import than the results of the first team) that supporters need the answers to. The fact that one of their most prominent board members is a devoted Food Bank volunteer for every home game, unlike many of those, from the flaccid left to the rigid right, who sought to hijack NUST in the past, shows just how community oriented the Trust has become. Fair play to them and more power to their independent elbows.

During this last run of games, the Food Bank has had plenty of opportunities for collecting donations, with three home games out of the four we’ve played. On the pitch, things have gone quite well, with 10 points harvested from these fixtures, which has masked the latest injury horrors, with the current list of unavailable players extending to: Almiron, Botman, Joelinton, Lascelles, Miley, Pope, Trippier and Wilson. The most serious of the fresh injuries has to be Sven Botman’s, especially as he really ought to have had an operation when the problem first flared up, rather than just resting, which saw him return to the first team and produce performances in the manner of a glorified Boumsong impersonator, though as the eternally erudite @PercyCola pointed out on Twitter, he was astonished to discover that 920 of the 932 people he follows were experts in the diagnosis and treatment of cruciate ligament problems.

Then again, despite half the team hitting the canvas with an array of ailments, the magnificent West Ham game was the perfect explanation for just why we should simply try to enjoy the ride for the remainder of this mad and maddening never ending season. Winning it in an extended period of injury time caused by the endless series of hobble offs we were forced to endure was simply too perfect for words, rather like the winner by the rejuvenated Harvey Barnes. Of course, such a brilliant high could not be sustained. For all the fury occasioned by Dummett’s mindless foul that gave away a wholly unnecessary penalty that got a woeful Everton side out of jail, the fact is we should have been out of sight, were it not for some profligate finishing. The same was true at Craven Cottage, but this time it was the opposition who endlessly fluffed their lines in front of goal, allowing us to claim the three points courtesy of an astute and controlled Bruno goal. Fair play to him for going 10 games without a booking and playing as well as he has done in a Newcastle shirt for that time. Even more plaudits go to his countryman Joelinton, for signing a new deal that already starts to make next season’s midfield look a hell of a lot stronger than the one we’ve been forced into fielding since the turn of the year. Providing Tonali isn’t hit with another ban and has found a way to focus on his on-field responsibilities, we may just be able to achieve our full potential, providing the squad is radically pruned of deadwood and bolstered by quality additions in all areas.

It goes without saying we need to keep Isak, whose recent performances have been almost beyond superlatives. His pair of deadly finishes against the traditional visiting Spurs comedy troupe, were up there with the likes of Mbappe, Ibrahimovich and Harland, though I loved Schar’s exquisite, unmarked header as well. He really is the unsung hero of this team and almost as vital as Bruno, Gordon and Isak.

So, we’ve got 6 games of this campaign. After a free weekend because of the FA Cup semi-finals, we have Crystal Palace (A) on Wednesday 24th, the Blades at home on the following Saturday, before moving into May at Turf Moor on the 4th, then finishing our home campaign with the visit of Brighton on Saturday 11th, with a pair of away trips to Old Trafford (Wednesday 15th) and Brentford on Sunday 19th. God how I’d love us to relegate that floppy haired paranoid gobshite on the last day, but I can’t see it happening. The reverse fixtures saw us accrue 15 points with a goal difference of 17-3, though I can’t see that happening now. However, if we play like we did against Spurs, there’s no reason to be frightened of any of those teams. Time will tell and I suppose I’ll be reflecting on those games once the season is over.



Wednesday, 3 April 2024

Fife Flyers

I love Ian Rankin's novels, especially the non-Rebus ones....



2024 is shaping up to be a pretty fine year, in terms of new books by my favourite writers. In chronological order of their projected release dates, I’m looking forward to Sixteen Again, Paul Hanley’s soon published tribute to The Buzzcocks and all they meant to him, before some real fiction heavyweights have their say. Irvine Welsh, Resolution (12th July), David Peace UKDK (1st August), Roddy Doyle The Woman Behind the Door (12th September), Michael Houellebecq Annihilation (19th September) and Ian Rankin Midnight & Blue (10th October).

In preparation for the final book on that list, I’ve set myself the task of reading the complete works of Fife’s finest purveyor of Caledonian Noir. This is no small undertaking, as Rankin has been publishing novels for nearly 40 years; not just the Inspector Rebus series, of which there are 25 volumes, plus a high volume of short stories, two stage plays and an autobiographical commentary on Rebus’s relationship with Scotland as a whole, but his non-Rebus oeuvre. Before embarking on this task, I knew that Rankin wrote novels utterly unconnected to Police Scotland’s most famous intuitive curmudgeon, because the first thing of his that I read was Doors Open, a rattlingly good art heist thriller, set in Edinburgh, though it was only this year that I realised I would have to make my way through the grand total of 11 novels, including one collaboration, a dozen short stories, a graphic novel and a stage play. Though I’ve still got a dozen Rebus novels to finish before I’m ready for the publication of Midnight & Blue, I’ve now finished the rest of Rankin’s work, which I’d like to discuss below.

The Flood (1986): Set in a fictionalised version of Rankin’s home village of Cardenden, a former coal mining settlement in the less salubrious part of Fife, his debut novel is perhaps the most consciously literary text of his entire published output. Starting in the early 1960s, it charts the miserable life of the outcast Mary Miller. As a child, she fell into a stream of pollution from the pit that flowed through the village, which turned her hair permanently white. Initially she was treated with sympathy by the local community, but all that changed when the young man who pushed her in, died in a workplace accident. In the present day, still shunned, Mary is a single mother caught up in a faltering affair with her son’s English teacher. Meanwhile, her son, Sandy, has fallen in love with a strange homeless girl, and, as both doomed relationships hit the rocks, mother and son are forced to come to terms with a terrible secret from Mary's past: Sandy is the product of his late grandfather’s rape of his mother. Nothing good can come of this situation, set amidst the unforgiving dark, suffocating, Calvinist village mentality. The book is both gripping and depressing. It is also considerably better than most of Rankin’s non-Rebus quasi juvenilia.

Watchman (1988): A preposterous espionage thriller, in the manner of Len Deighton, Watchman tells the story of Miles Flint, a surveillance officer who works for MI5. After two high-profile operations involving Flint go badly wrong, with deadly consequences, he is sent to Belfast to witness the arrest of some of the Boys. However, after accompanying a bunch of rather loathsome Loyalists (are there any other kind?), he discovers that what has actually been planned is the murder of the Ra men and then realises that his own life is at risk. As the executions are about to be carried out, Flint escapes with the aid of one of the Provos, who is supposedly a former UVF member who swapped sides after reading about the fellas on the blanket (aye right…). The two of them go on the run, while piecing together the bones of a conspiracy which goes right to the very core of the British Government. Fairly predictably, spilling the beans on this, allows them all to live happily ever after. Flint even manages to patch up his marriage, which had previously been badly on the skids.

Westwind (1990): The Zephyr computer system monitors the progress of the United Kingdom's only spy satellite. When this system briefly goes offline, Martin Hepton becomes suspicious following the death of a work colleague who suspected something strange is going on at the satellite facility where they both work, and then goes missing before winding up dead. Needless to say, Hepton doesn’t believe the official line of suicide. Refusing to stop asking questions, he leaves his old life behind, aware that someone is shadowing his every move.  The only hope he has of getting to the bottom of this mystery is enlisting the services of his ex-girlfriend Jill Watson, a crusading journalist who believes his story. Rather a lot of cross and double-cross occurs on both sides of the Atlantic as Hepton, Watson and her new squeeze, the only astronaut to survive a suspicious space shuttle crash, outwit malfeasant security services and manage to live happily ever after. It’s daft, but very entertaining and hints at the three novels to follow.

Witch Hunt (1993): In the early 90s, recently relocated to rural France and finding that the Rebus books were niche fiction, rather than blockbuster airport reads, Rankin made the decision, presumably for financial rather than aesthetic reasons, to publish some mainstream thrillers under the nom de plume of Jack Harvey, combining his first-born son’s name and his wife’s maiden name. Stylistically, Witch Hunt, Bleeding Hearts and Blood Hunt are all cut from the same cloth; breathless action, one-dimensional or idee fixe characters, labyrinthine plot twists and unconvincing denouements but, as far as page-turners go, they aren’t a bad, undemanding read.

In Witch Hunt, the action begins with the sinking of a fishing boat in the English Channel in the middle of the night, and the evidence points to murder. Ex-MI5 operative Dominic Elder comes out of retirement to help investigate, as it appears that his long-time obsession, a female assassin known as Witch, may be responsible. Using the boat to get to England from France, Witch left a subtle trail of clues to announce her arrival and to warn off Elder, who knows her to be a resourceful enemy, always seeming to be a step ahead of the authorities. With an imminent summit of world leaders to be held in London, Witch's probable target seems obvious. A team of detectives and MI5 agents, and the terrorist, play cat-and-mouse with each other in Scotland, England, France, and even briefly visit a former associate of Witch in prison in Germany, before taking the enemy down, with only one high ranking casualty; the nefarious Home Secretary who turns out to be Witch’s long-estranged father.

Bleeding Hearts (1994): This is the only Rankin novel I know of that is written, only partly I’ll acknowledge, in the first person, though the rest of the narrative is told in the third person, which creates a slightly uncomfortable, if not clumsy, atmosphere. It is also the only novel I’m aware of that is told from the perspective of a haemophiliac hired assassin, one Michael Weston. Yes, we’re talking that level of reality as the wealthy father of a girl he killed by mistake years ago has sworn vengeance on the killer, hiring an American private detective, the deliciously crass Hoffer, to track Weston down. Hoffer does, but doesn’t pull the trigger, as the love of a good woman intervenes and Weston retires from the game, allowing him and Hoffer to part on equal terms with no blood spilled, of the clotted or unclotted variety.

Rankin has claimed that he wrote this book under the influence of Martin Amis's novel Money and that Weston was influenced by that novel's protagonist John Self, but I can’t see any connection myself.

Blood Hunt (1995): In this final Jack Harvey novel, Rankin recycles the character of Gordon Reeve, who was Rebus’s nemesis in the first novel in that series, Knots & Crosses, though he does imagine a different life for Rebus’s former SAS buddy.

The novel begins when Reeve takes a phone call informing him that his brother Jim has been found dead in San Diego. While in the USA to identify the body, Gordon realises that his brother was murdered, and that the police are more than reluctant to follow any leads. Retracing Jim's final hours, he connects Jim's death with his work as a journalist, investigating a multinational chemical corporation. Gordon soon discovers that he is being watched, so he decides to ask Jim's friends back in Europe for further information.

In London, he finds more hints, but no evidence for his brother's sources. After returning to his wife and son, he finds that his home has been bugged by professionals. Sending his wife and son to a relative, he determines to take on his enemy on his own. There are two parties after him: The multinational corporation, represented by Jay, a renegade SAS member, and an international investigation corporation, somehow connected with the case.

Travelling to France, in order to find out more from a journalist colleague of Jim's, they are attacked by a group of professional killers, resulting in multiple deaths, and leading to Gordon becoming a police target. Gordon decides to return to the USA, where he infiltrates the investigation corporation, and learns more about the history of the case. Then he travels to San Diego, to collect more evidence, and eventually returns to England, deliberately leaving a trail for Jay. Their long enmity leads Jay to follow Gordon to Scotland, where Gordon kills him and his team in a final showdown. Gordon manages to locate Jim's hidden journalistic material, thus enabling him to hopefully clear Jim's and his own name. It is by far the best of the three Jack Harvey novels and offers a glimpse into what kind of a writer Rankin would have become, if he’d decided to go down the espionage rather than the psychological police procedural route. Ironically, it was the success of his Rebus novels, not to mention their increasing complexity and the attendant length of time it took him to write the things, that caused Rankin to park the Jack Harvey project.

Beggars Banquet (2002): I read the entire collected Rebus short stories in The Beat Goes On, so when I got this one, I only read the non-Rebus ones and I like them tremendously. Well worth seeking out.

Doors Open (2008): As I mentioned earlier, this was the first Ian Rankin book I read and, only knowing his work from the Ken Stott Rebus dramas at that point, it certainly wasn’t what I expected. Mike Mackenzie is a software entrepreneur who has sold his company for a substantial amount of money but is now bored and looking for a new thrill. His new-found wealth has funded a genuine interest in art so when his friend Professor Robert Gissing presents him with a plan for the perfect crime, he is intrigued. With a vast collection but limited wall space, the National Gallery has many more valuable works of art in storage than it could ever display. The plan is to stage a heist at the Granton storage depot on "Doors Open Day" during which a selected group of paintings will be stolen. The gang will then give the appearance of having panicked and fled without the works of art but will have switched the real paintings with high quality forgeries good enough to convince anyone investigating the matter that no theft has been committed.

Intrigued, Mike willingly helps set that plan in motion. As they begin to plan it out, it becomes clear that they need some "professional assistance" and a chance encounter with Chib Calloway, a local gangster who Mike went to school with, fulfils that need, presumably as Big Ger was on holiday at that point. It’s a good old-fashioned heist yarn, with a surprisingly moral ending. I suppose if I hadn’t enjoyed it, I wouldn’t have embarked upon this journey through Rankin’s collected works.

A Cool Head (2009): It’s very fashionable to decry Tony Blair, simply on account of the fact he’s a war criminal who spent his entire Premiership toadying up to the Great Satan across the pond, but he did do some good things. The Quick Reads initiative was one of them. Quick Reads were launched by Blair on World Book Day 2006. By mid-2020, over 100 titles had been published, over 4.8 million copies had been sold and over 5 million copies had been loaned through libraries.

For those unfamiliar with the project, Quick Reads are a series of short books by bestselling authors and celebrities. At no more than 128 pages, they are designed to encourage adults who do not read often, or find reading difficult, to discover the joy of books. In a long-forgotten celebration of the philosophy of lifelong learning, Quick Reads were a collaboration between leading publishers, supermarkets, bookshops, libraries, government departments, the National Institute of Adult Continuing Education (NIACE), Arts Council England, the BBC, World Book Day, National Book Tokens and more. They are used as a resource for adult literacy teaching and have been used in Skills for Life and ESOL classes in colleges, community centres, libraries, prisons and workplaces across the country. They have also been used in hospitals, stroke recovery units, dyslexia centres, care homes, family learning groups, pre-schools, organisations working with homeless people and traveller communities, and Army and RAF bases. In a survey covering 50,000 readers in 2010, 98% said that Quick Reads had made a positive impact on their lives. Certainly, as someone who taught for many years in Adult Education, I can vouch for their value in demystifying the vexed concept of reading fiction for pleasure. In 2018, the programme was due to come to an end because of a lack of funding. Another thing to thank the Tories for, eh?

What has this to do with Ian Rankin? Well, in 2009, Quick Reads published his contribution to the series, A Cool Head. It tells the story of Gravy, who works in a graveyard. One day his friend turns up in a car he doesn't recognise. His friend has a bullet in his chest. Gravy is asked to hide the gun and the body. In the back of the car is blood, and a bag full of money. Soon Gravy is caught up in a robbery gone wrong and is pursued by some desperate and mysterious men as well as the police. Thanks to Ian Rankin for writing this story.

Dark Entries (2009): I’ll come clean with you; this is the Ian Rankin book I liked the least. In fact, I probably dislike it, because of my own prejudices. You see, it’s a graphic novel or, if you’re an adult, a comic. The story involves DC Comics character John Constantine, the series Hellblazer, apparently.

The plot involves John Constantine being convinced to enter a reality television programme which has suffered several strange hauntings, which is clearly a thinly veiled satire of Most Haunted and Big Brother. The set turns out to be not a television programme made for humanity, but for the denizens of Hell, and John must work out a way to escape from this. I’m not really sure if he did and, frankly, I’m not bothered. Then again, I doubt I’m the target demographic for such balderdash.

The Complaints (2009): The character of Malcolm Fox, who ends up in at least 4 of the later Rebus novels, as well as the two dedicated solely to him, is the best and most satisfying Rankin creation outside of Rebus and Siobhan Clarke, in my opinion. A dogged, recovering alcoholic loner, with a bad marriage behind him, a drunken underachieving sister with an attitude problem and an ailing father in a care home, Fox throws himself into his job with silent gusto. The fact is his job entails investigating potential misconduct by other officers, hence The Complaints, makes him a figure to be truly despised by those on the force as well as off it. The fact he somehow manages to shrug this shroud of enmity off and solve complex, intractable cases shows us why he ends up back in CID.

In The Complaints, Fox and his team are tasked with investigating Detective Sergeant Jamie Breck, suspected of being a member of a child pornography ring. However, Breck is in turn investigating the death of Vince Faulkner, who was in an abusive relationship with Fox's sister. This brings Fox into direct contact with Breck, and as he develops both a friendship and a working relationship with him, he begins to doubt the validity of his assignment. Despite his personal connection to the case, and against protocol, Fox gets involved in the investigation into Faulkner's death. This brings him into conflict with Breck's superior officer, who harbours a dislike of Fox for investigating a corrupt officer under his command.

Eventually, Fox and Breck are both suspended and Fox is also placed under investigation. However, they continue to investigate Faulkner's death, discovering that he had links to a bankrupt property developer who appears to have committed suicide. This leads to further links to members of the criminal underworld, and in turn to a senior member of the police force, who is found to be responsible for having Breck framed and for having Fox placed under investigation. When Fox comes out on top, I actually punched the air in celebration, such is the superb characterisation Rankin has employed to turn a potentially mealy-mouthed, paper clip counter into a sleuth supreme. Also, Fox’s activities take place back in familiar Edinburgh locations which, as Rankin became ever more certain of his craft, are the best and most fitting place for his fiction.

The Impossible Dead (2011): The second and, sadly, seemingly final Malcolm Fox novel is even more enjoyable than The Complaints, partly because we get to travel to Rankin’s home turf of the Kingdom of Fife. Proper Fife as well; Kirkcaldy, not the Vichy Fife of Dunfermline or the lah di dah East Neuk and that unspeakable posh place east of Leuchars.

Fox and his team, Tony Kaye and Joe Naysmith, are assigned to an investigation into Detective Sergeant Paul Carter, who has been found guilty of misconduct. Fox’s job is to reassure the Fife Constabulary top brass that the other Kirkcaldy police are clean. Fox visits Paul’s uncle Alan, a seemingly jovial retired Polisman who had reported Paul in the first place and is drawn into the murder investigation when Alan is killed, and Paul is framed for it. Fox and his team must dodge, while exploiting as sources, not only the hostile Kirkcaldy police but contingents of Fife headquarters CID, Murder Squad, and even an emissary from London’s Special Branch.

When Fox visited him, Alan Carter was investigating the suspicious 1985 death of an Edinburgh lawyer named Francis Vernal, who was involved with Scottish Nationalist paramilitaries in the 1980s. Fox becomes obsessed by Vernal’s story, in part because there are similarities between Vernal’s death and Carter’s murder. He interviews various former associates of Vernal, including his onetime law partner, his widow, a madman, a TV personality, and a Chief Constable who is herself trying to deal with a group of terrorists. Eventually Fox identifies the person who killed both Vernal and Carter, but Fox has to risk his own life to capture them. He does, coming out clean as a whistle, having wrecked the career of the Chief Constable of Fife in the process. So it goes, eh?

Dark Road (2013): Thus far in his career, Ian Rankin has written three plays: the Rebus connected A Game Called Malice and Long Shadows, which I’ll talk about next time, as well as the unsettling Dark Road. Bearing in mind I’ve not seen any of his plays performed, I can only talk about them in terms of how they appear on the page. Co-written with Lyceum Edinburgh’s director Mark Thomson, the play is set in modern-day Edinburgh and follows Scotland's first (fictional) female Chief Constable Isobel McArthur now Chief Superintendent of Edinburgh following the creation of Police Scotland, as she considers retirement and ponders writing a book. As part of that she reviews the case of Alfred Chalmers a serial killer who killed four girls a quarter of a century previous, a conviction she has long held doubts about. What follows is a thriller that throws herself, her daughter and her colleagues into a psychological battle against Chalmers. As a piece of writing, the ending may be a tad predictable, but I’d imagine it is a bit of a chiller to sit through. I’d like to see this live I must admit.

The Dark Remains (2021): While I’ve long been an admirer of the football writing of the esteemed Hugh McIlvanney, I’m sorry to report I was unaware of the works of his brother William. This is a situation I intend to remedy when time allows. Following William McIlvanney’s death in 2015, he left among his papers an unfinished draft of a police procedural, involving his Glasgow copper Jack Laidlaw. It was the fourth Laidlaw novel but set chronologically before the other three.  Ian Rankin took on the project and produced the vivid and compelling The Dark Remains.

Jack Laidlaw has been moved to the Central Division of the Glasgow Crime Squad. He is a DC working for DI Ernie Milligan. Robert Frederick the commander of the Glasgow Crime Squad assigns DS Bob Lilley to keep an eye on him, saying Laidlaw's reputation has always preceded him .... who has he rubbed up the wrong way this month? .... he’s good at the job, seems to have a sixth sense for what’s happening on the streets (but) he needs careful handling, if we’re to get the best out of him.

The novel is set in October 1972, early in Laidlaw's career. Bobby Carter the right-hand man and lawyer cum money launderer for Cam Colvin one of Glasgow's top gangsters has disappeared, and then his body is found, in enemy territory. John Rhodes is Colvin's main rival; not minor gangsters like Matt Mason and Malky Chisholm. Milligan pontificates to his team that the graffiti tells him that the Cumbrie are encroaching on the Carlton turf. A stabbing is one hell of a calling card, wouldn’t you agree? He assumes, like other gangsters, that a rival gangster arranged Carter's death, and gang warfare intensifies. But Laidlaw sees in Carter's home evidence of recent painting to cover up bloodstains from a domestic dispute after Carter was stabbed by his bullied wife and children. His wife eventually confesses to Laidlaw, to keep the children out of it. Laidlaw bypasses Milligan, who he despises, by reporting directly to Commander Frederick. When the team are celebrating the end of the case, Frederick says privately to Lilley that if he doesn’t manage to detonate himself in the near future, he might be in line for a swift promotion .... (although he is) not exactly a team player. This is a great book by two great writers about a great fictional cop.

In a dozen books time, I look forward to discussing 25 great books involving Scotland’s greatest fictional cop.