A Question of Blood

Starred review from January 5, 2004
The 14th novel to feature the always compelling (and, as his name suggests, perpetually puzzling) John Rebus begins with what seems to be a uniquely American crime: a madman enters a school and starts shooting, killing two students and wounding a third before turning the gun on himself. But we're in Rankin country—a perpetually damp and morally bankrupt Edinburgh—with Rebus and Siobhan Clarke searching for the real story behind what seems an act of sheer madness. This immensely satisfying police procedural has plenty of forensic science, but Rebus knows that "none of it might make them any the wiser about the only question that mattered....The why." Why did Lee Herdman, a drop-out of the U.K. version of the Special Forces, go on a rampage? Why was James Bell, the son of a self-righteous Scottish M.P., merely wounded? And why are two Army investigators sniffing around the case? A subplot has Rebus himself under suspicion of murder: a minor criminal is found dead, burned in an apartment fire, and Rebus shows up with heavily bandaged hands the next morning. The detectives encounter every stratum of contemporary Scottish society, from angry teenage toughs and petty criminals to the privileged and the powerful. It's a complex narrative, perhaps too much so at times, but the plot is less important than Rebus himself, a brilliantly conceived hero who is all too aware of his own shortcomings. In an essentially amoral society, his moral compass is always pointed steadily towards the truth. (Feb. 9)

Forecast:
According to the English newspaper
The Guardian, Rankin books account for 10% of all crime book sales in the U.K. Already a #1 bestseller in Britain,
A Question of Blood is bound to enfold more American readers in the Rankin cult.

October 15, 2003
What's the connection between murder at a fancy boarding school and a bunch of heavy-metal devotees, and why is Inspector Rebus threatened with suspension?

Copyright 2003 Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

December 1, 2003
Those "dialogues of the left-unsaid" that have been plaguing Edinburgh copper John Rebus for years (but especially in " Dead Souls," 1999) are making themselves heard again, this time in response to an ugly murder with ties to Rebus' own life and family. When a seemingly berserk veteran of the British army's special forces shoots himself after killing two teenage boys and wounding another, Rebus is asked by a colleague to help get inside the shooter's head. (Rebus carries his own scars from the army.) Meanwhile, the rule-breaking inspector is once again the object of an internal investigation, this time to determine if he was involved in the death of a lowlife who was stalking Rebus' partner, Siobhan Clarke. Rebus' demons may not seem quite as compelling a metaphor for the heart of darkness as they once did (Rankin has been mining this theme steadily through 15 books), but the character himself remains among the most fascinating in the genre. Cantankerously anachronistic, the hard-drinking, chain-smoking, unrepentantly individualistic loner absolutely refuses to accommodate himself to a repugnant modern world full of white-wine-drinking, rule-following company men and women. About the only thing left in Rebus' world that he understands is the bad guys, which is why he pursues them so vigorously. Even if his demons have become familiar, his rants are like poetry to kindred souls.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2003, American Library Association.)