New 2, Former 320

 

Ian Rankin. Hide and Seek. 1990. U.K.: Orion Books paperback, 1998.

This was the second book in the John Rebus series, what a treat to find! In fact, it contains a foreword by Rankin describing his creative development at the time. Rebus has just been promoted to D.I. and his first case involves a dead man in a dingy squat, in what appears to be a ritualistic setting. Is it a case at all? Or simply another sad drug overdose? A woman called Tracy provides details about Ronnie, the deceased, and that his friend Charlie had drawn the spectacular pentagram in front of which Ronnie lay. Rebus can't resist poking into the occult a bit, discovering that Charlie is an eccentric young university student. Rebus is already, of course, exhibiting the characteristics of a man who won't let sleeping dogs lie. He's also missing his former lover, policewoman Gill, who took up with a radio DJ.

Meanwhile, Chief Watson arbitrarily appointed Rebus to his anti-drugs campaign committee. That means he can hobnob with wealthy committee supporters, like Tom McCall, brother of his cop colleague Tony McCall. Rebus resents that his own imprisoned brother "qualifies" him for this role. Brothers are a theme, it seems: a Constable Neil admits that Ronnie was his junkie brother and wants to get the man who supplied the drug—pure deadly poison, as the lab confirms. Another thread to explore is Ronnie's photography passion and penchant for hiding his photos, claiming that people were stealing from him. But who would want to kill him? By the time Rebus is invited to socialize with his rich committee buddies, he knows enough to blow an illegal club wide open.

The aftermath of Rebus' climactic actions is not uncommon in this and in many following books. Rebus mulls over an imperfect police system and where his own scruples part company with it. First class novel, a man of insight getting the job done.

Word: prolix = overly long, tediously lengthy, too many words

One-liners

▪ Somewhere in Tracy's life a wrong turning had been made, and Rebus had the idea that she was still trying to reverse back to that fork in the road. (22-23)

▪ "Whoever sold the stuff was selling euthanasia." (36)

▪ "You're about as funny as a maggot sandwich, Charlie, and patience isn't my favourite card game." (49)

▪ And there was internal damage as well as the structural kind: he was feeling soiled in the pit of his gut, as though the city had scraped away a layer of its surface grime and force-fed him the lot. (135)

▪ He was living in the most beautiful, most civilised city in northern Europe, yet every day he had to deal with its flipside, with the minor matter of its animus. (135)

Multi-liners

▪ "She said Ronnie was murdered." Rebus kept on walking, but McCall had stopped. (39)

▪ Everyone had a God tagging along with them. And the God of the Scots was as ominous as He came. (82)

▪ "No concussion, no blurred vision. A good old broken nose, curse of the bare-knuckle fighter." (167)

▪ He had to break the interlinked stories into separate threads, and work from those. At the moment he was guilty of trying to weave them all into a pattern, a pattern that might not be there. (187)

▪ "Clever little tyke, weren't you, Ronnie?" Rebus said to himself as he picked up the package. "Cleverer than they could ever have thought." (204)

▪ A brother was a terrible thing. He was a lifelong competitor, yet you couldn't hate him without hating yourself. (219-20)

Lack of Evidence

There was no "case," not in the sense in which any criminal court would understand the term. There were personalities, misdeeds, questions without answers. Illegalities, even. But there was no case. That was the frustrating thing. If there were only a case, only something structured enough, tangible enough for him to hold on to, some casenotes which he could physically hold up and say, look, here it is. But there was nothing like that. It was all as insubstantial as candle wax. But candle wax left its mark, didn't it? And nothing ever vanished, not totally. Instead, things altered shape, substance, meaning. A five-pointed star within two concentric circles was nothing in itself. (113)

Ian Ferguson and Will Ferguson. I Only Read Murder. Ebook download from TPL. Toronto: HarperCollins, 2023.

Speaking of brothers, funny is to be expected from a Ferguson. The two bros have conspired in a complete send-up of Little Theatre. Starring the dramatic but delightful Miranda Abbott, lead character in the once-popular, long-running Pastor Fran TV series. Fran had been an amateur sleuth, solving a different mystery each week. But Miranda has no new roles coming along in Hollywood. When she's summoned by the husband she wants to rejoin—Edgar Abbott has been in the village of Happy Rock contentedly running his crime-fiction bookstore (named I Only Read Murder)—she gladly abandons the acting business to settle down with him. Oops, but Edgar offers her divorce papers instead of a reunion. Miranda digs in to change his mind.

A few Pastor Fran fans emerge in the village, yet by and large she is not recognized as the esteemed actress who could draw crowds at any public outings. At the urging of Bea, her B&B landlady, and Ned, the police chief, and Susan, secretary of the society, she auditions for the play to be presented by Happy Rock Amalgamated & Consolidated Little Theater Society. It's Team Miranda! and they insist this will keep her close to Edgar, showing what a splendid wife she can be. Enter Annette, local celebrity, with the biggest ego of all. Naturally, Annette lands the leading role in "Death is the Dickens," a role she gets every year. From stagehands to thespians, the brothers Ferguson manage to hit every theatrical cliché full on, every backstage conspiracy, each and every eccentric temperament. But someone dies, and Miranda is certain she was the intended target.

The magnificent Miranda scorns a self-serving reporter and uses her Pastor Fran repertoire to solve the murder. To great acclaim, I add. If you like Richard Osman's amusing Thursday Murder Club series, add this slick, tricky little gem to your TBR pile.

Bits

▪ "I don't make appointments, darling, I keep them." (6)

▪ "Fine!" she said (yelled). "I know when I'm not wanted!" (47)

▪ "I said to myself, Self said I, can I help the Happy Rock theater? And I told myself, You bet, Annette!" (98)

▪ She would impress upon Edgar how she could be the most humble person who ever lived! She would be magnificently humble! Extravagantly modest! (134)

▪ Miranda laughed. ... "but honestly, Edgar. This play is so comically bad." (136)

▪ "When I said it was a travesty of an abomination, I meant that in the best possible way." (138)

▪ The play staggered on like a wounded water buffalo looking for a place to die. (175)

▪ If anyone was going to spill the beans, it would be Bea. She was a born bean spiller. (207)

▪ "A toxicology report is only a tool, not a verdict. You said so yourself on Pastor Fran." (257)

▪ "I meant die as in die. As in cease to exist. As in Exit stage left, pursued by a bear." (262)

▪ "Susan, do you happen to have a No. 2 Phillips screwdriver on you?" (293)