In a House of Lies by Ian Rankin: A review

John Rebus is now pushing 70 and has been retired from Scotland's Lothian and Borders Police for several years. He's been retired so long that the Lothian and Borders Police no longer exists; it's now Police Scotland. But all of his former colleagues are now a part of this "new" police force, and it's not really true that Rebus is retired. Being a detective is his life and he won't retire until that final exit music plays and he draws his last breath.

He keeps his hand in because his former colleagues, especially his former partner and protege, Siobhan Clarke, often call on him for his expertise regarding Edinburgh crime and criminals and for his memories regarding particular cases that he worked in the past. And that's where this story begins.

Some teenage boys messing around in the woods come upon a rusted out car hidden under brush. In the boot of the car is a skeleton. Police are called and the skeleton is finally identified as that of a private investigator named Stuart Bloom who had disappeared a few years earlier. Rebus had worked on that earlier missing person case and it had never been resolved. A review of that case now finds some slipshod work and errors that should never have happened. Malcolm Fox of internal investigations is on the case and finds that Rebus may not have been as diligent in his investigation as he should have been.

Meanwhile, Siobhan Clarke is assigned to the (now) murder case and she questions Rebus about how it all went down years before. She also asks his help on another case of hers - a young man who was convicted of unlawful killing (which he admitted to) and was sent to prison. Siobhan has misgivings about the case and wants a second opinion.

Suddenly, the old retiree has a full plate of mysteries on which to chew. He couldn't be happier.

Inevitably it seems, his reviews and his memories lead him back to his old nemesis "Big Ger" Cafferty, always the one who got away for Rebus. The two established a grudging relationship over the years, even becoming drinking buddies back in the day when Rebus was a drinker. All that, along with the constant smokes, is behind him now as he struggles with COPD.

One of the great charms of this series has always been the believability of its characters. These are not supermen or superwomen. They are all too human, but they do take pride in the work they do and they try to do it to the best of their abilities. Even those like Rebus who never felt constrained by rules and who cut corners.

A part of that believability factor has been the aging of Rebus, which has occurred more or less in real time along with the series that began way back in 1987 with Knots and Crosses. This is the twenty-second entry in that series and, even though some books are better than others, the quality has never faded. It's interesting to see Rebus now dealing with the problems of aging and I look forward to seeing how Rankin continues the series for - it is hoped - many more years.

As for this particular book, for me it was a five-star read, near perfect. I can't think of anything about it of which I can complain.

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Poetry Sunday: Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver

How about we share another Mary Oliver poem? After all, you can never have too many of those. In this one, the poet seems to acknowledge that it is often hard to simply live in and enjoy the moment, perhaps because we are afraid it can't last. She urges us to give in to that moment and fully experience the joy. Although "much can never be redeemed, still, life has some possibility left." Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is no...

Poetry Sunday: Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney

My mother was a farm wife and a prodigious canner. She canned fruit and vegetables from the garden, even occasionally meat. But the best thing that she canned, in my opinion, was blackberry jam. Even as I type those words my mouth waters! Of course, before she could make that jam, somebody had to pick the blackberries. And that somebody was quite often named Dorothy. I think Seamus Heaney might have spent some time among the briars plucking those delicious black fruits as well, so he would have known that "Once off the bush the fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour." They don't keep; you have to get that jam made in a hurry! Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust ...

Poetry Sunday: Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman

You probably remember poet Amanda Gorman from her appearance at the inauguration of President Biden. She read her poem "The Hill We Climb" on that occasion. After the senseless slaughter in Uvalde this week, she was inspired to write another poem which was published in The New York Times. It seemed perfect for the occasion and so I stole it in order to feature it here, just in case you didn't get a chance to read it in the Times . Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman Everything hurts, Our hearts shadowed and strange, Minds made muddied and mute. We carry tragedy, terrifying and true. And yet none of it is new; We knew it as home, As horror, As heritage. Even our children Cannot be children, Cannot be. Everything hurts. It’s a hard time to be alive, And even harder to stay that way. We’re burdened to live out these days, While at the same time, blessed to outlive them. This alarm is how we know We must be altered — That we must differ or die, That we must triumph or try. ...

The Nature of Things

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