A Good Hanging (and other stories)

By Ian Rankin

Rankin has been writing about Inspector John Rebus since 1987. I’ve read a few, but probably not as many as I thought I had. I can now add this anthology to the list though.

As with all anthologies the stories vary. Some are good, some less so. Here’s a potted review of each tale.

Playback

A murderer calls the police to confess, then loses his nerve and attempts to flee. It seems like an open and shut case until Rebus smells a rat. A good opening story, even if it’s fairly clear whodunnit.

The Dean Curse

A retired army officer leaves his car with the engine running while he nips into the shop. Someone decides to steal it, but this proves to be the last mistake they ever make because the car explodes seconds later. The IRA are suspected but Rebus isn’t so sure. This is a decent story and sees Rebus butt heads with special branch and it wasn’t obvious where it was going.

Being Frank

Frank is a homeless man and something of a conspiracy nut. One day he feeds Rebus a wild tale of some men her overheard in the park. Rebus initially dismisses him out of hand but eventually realises there was some truth to Frank’s ramblings. This is a decent story which doesn’t outstay its welcome.

Concrete Evidence

When a body is discovered buried in the foundations of a building, Rebus has a decades old murder to solve, but before he can catch the killer he has to work out who the victim is. This was one of my favourites in the anthology.

Seeing Things.

Pilgrims are drawn to an Edinburgh park when some kids see an apparition they presume is Jesus. Soon a dead body is found close by and Rebus has to work out if the two things are connected. This is an interesting one, even if the eventually solution feels a trifle contrived and convoluted.

A Good Hanging

At the height of the fringe gallows built for a show is used by one of the actors to apparently kill himself. Rebus of course thinks something more sinister is afoot. The titular story of the anthology and not one of my favourites. There are just too many suspects flying around to keep track of.

Tit for tat

When a man nearly dies in an arson attack he says he knows who did it but doesn’t want to press charges. A tale of bird watching and peeping toms that’s actually quite a lot of fun.

Not Provan

Rebus has wanted to see a villain named Willie Provan go down for a long time, and now in an open and shut case it seems like he might get his wish, until new evidence throws doubt on the case. Rebus investigates and finds one of the jurors is likewise sticking his nose into the case. I liked this one, even if the solution feels like a stretch, and something that would have been easy to find out (but then it’s of its time and the lack of the internet would have hindered the solution)

Sunday

Rebus has a rare Sunday to himself, but he can’t seem to settle. It soon becomes clear that he’s dealing with the aftermath of a traumatic incident. Something a bit different from the other stories in this anthology. Does feel a trifle grim however!

Auld Lang Syne

It’s Hogmanay and Rebus it amidst the crowds waiting to nab a drug dealer when he runs into a man he put away, a man he assumed was still in prison. He discovers a villain who’s gone straight and found god, but is his presence there really coincidental? Another very good one.

The Gentleman’s Club

When a teenage girl commits suicide Rebus digs into the matter and discovered the real reason behind the girl’s death. This is decent but not the cheeriest of tales.

Monstrous Trumpet

Rebus is tasked with taking a visiting French Inspector under his wing. The man’s name is Inspector Cluzeaus and Rebus really isn’t happy to be babysitting. Desperate to find something to do he investigates the theft of a statue from an art show. A fun and frivolous one to end the anthology, this comes complete with an author’s note that Cluzeaus is a genuine French name. I liked this one, only let down, as at least one story earlier, by their being too many suspects for a short story.

Rankin’s writing is decent enough, and Rebus an interesting character, even if he never feels quite distinctive enough to me. If the book has a flaw it is the fact that every story involves Rebus, though the mix of crimes is enough to keep things interesting, and Rankin is quite inventive.

Slough House

By Mick Herron.

At the end of the last book Jackson Lamb’s raggedy band of failures and fuckups discovered that they’d been wiped from MI5 records. They’re still being paid at least which is something.

In the aftermath of the murder of British citizens by a Russian hit team, British Intelligence fight back, after Diana Tavener accepts funding from the private sector. Putin isn’t one to let such actions lie, and soon another team of assassins is despatched to the UK. Soon after former residents of Slough House begin to die in accidents.

Jackson Lamb might have little time for his Joes, but they are his Joes and he isn’t about to let someone pick them off. Meanwhile Diana Tavener gets in bed with the wrong people and River Cartwright sees a familiar face he never expected to see again…

And so I reach the seventh Slow Horses’ novel, and first since I began watching the TV series (I say began, I think I’d blitzed through it all before I picked this book up!). Suffice to say if you like the Slow Horses books (which I do) then you’ll like this (and I did.)

It’s probably not one of my favourites. The return of a certain character and the threat of Russian assassins is interesting, but it focuses a little too much on Diana Taverner and the odious Peter Judd and certain of the Slow Horses get less time to shine (in particular Roddy Ho but I appreciate he’s best in small doses.)

This book also feels a little too close to real world events. Referencing Brexit was unavoidable but semi-fictionalising the Novichok poisonings left a little bit of a sour taste.

Still, there’s an awful lot to like here. As always Herron’s prose is great and the story rattles along at a fast paste. There’s also a twist at the end that I did not see coming!

Suffice to say it won’t be long before I’m onto book eight!