A game of hide and seek

Those ominous symbols again. A devilish riddle, a depraved crossword, or just a front? A case that didn't even fall under Rebus's jurisdiction originally, and at first didn't even have the hallmarks of premeditated murder. In a squat on an Edinburgh housing estate, the body of a young drug addict is found, having seemingly left the world voluntarily in a scene straight out of a Caravaggio painting: the emaciated corpse is arranged like the Crucifixion between candles, and the chiaroscuro scene is dominated by a pentagram on the wall. But if some devilish trickster staged his overdose here, they botched the job. Something isn't right – his partner had originally seen the poor soul lying on a different floor of the building, which means the body was moved. And as soon as the post-mortem proves that the cause of death wasn't heroin, but a prosaic horse-sized dose of rat poison, it's clear the young man was in someone's way. Although the morose John Rebus has been promoted from Detective Sergeant to Detective Inspector, his only mistress is once again solitude. It's no wonder he can't keep a woman when he's still so taciturn and emotionally unavailable, although that's only a first impression. On second impression, he can be kind not only to an unpredictable witness who is hiding things from the police, but also to his new subordinates, as long as they accept his ways, his frantic task-setting, and his drive to get results, because in his obstinacy, he gives no quarter. First, he must unravel what is satanic about the case and assess just how low one can sink depending on the drug dose. And then ask to what dizzying heights the desires of the supposedly respectable people who exploitatively support the junkies reach. Edinburgh is said to be the most beautiful city in Europe's North. Rebus's second case from its noirish corners, however, confirms that it is more of a playground for Mr Hydes masquerading as successful Dr Jekylls. If the inspector keeps this, and only this, in mind and doesn't get sidetracked by other clues, he will solve this bleak report on the state of Scotland in the 80s. “A memorable slash in the mask of Scottish reticence. What is particularly impressive about this crime novel is the method with which it discovers and names things that are deliberately kept under wraps.” – Daily Telegraph “Edinburgh is the setting for a second time for an elegant thriller, skilfully interwoven with borrowings from Robert Louis Stevenson, which watches with horror the ways in which power is channelled.” – The Sunday Times “The moderate denouement, which the writer opted for in the future interest of the series, is lightened by dramatic cutaways to the inspector's private life.” – The Times “The author is beginning to find his style – and a good thing too. The pose of a grumpy, middle-aged detective suits the character of John Rebus much more than the role of an action hero with SAS training. He may be perpetually irritable, deliberately provoking everyone around him, and (...) yet he doesn't slide into the cesspool of corrupt morality. When it comes down to it, he can harden himself against any obstacle in an investigation.” – from reader reviews on Databazeknih.cz “Shouldn't a police officer consider all possibilities? Perhaps, but he was staunchly biased against Satanism. He is a Christian, after all. He doesn't go to church very often because he's repulsed by the sanctimonious squawking and jealous preaching, but that doesn't mean he doesn't believe in his own little, dark, personal God. Everyone drags their own God along with them. And the Scottish God is as stern and fearsome as he appears. (...) Rebus had a nagging feeling that the solution to all these accumulated puzzles was simple, crystal clear, just as he would wish. The problem was that subplots had become entangled in the whole affair. Now it was just a matter of getting to the bottom of that pool, whether it was muddy or not, and fishing out that tiny treasure chest called truth. He also knew that the problem lay in sorting it out. He had to unravel the interconnected stories into individual threads and then work with them. So far, his mistake had been trying to weave them all into a single pattern that might not even exist. Once he separated them all, perhaps he would have a chance to solve each of them individually.” – excerpt from the text