Crime by Irvine Welsh
I used to love Irvine Welsh’s books. But after Filth, Porno and Skagboys I’d given up trying to find a character I could identify with, like or even care about enough to make me want to finish the thing. He went through a period where everything seemed self-consciously cool and clever-dick, and lacking in heart. But driving home from this Christmas in Brisbane I came upon ‘Crime’ in an Airbnb bookshelf (sorry folks), thought I’d try the first chapter, and found I was so hooked by confused, addicted, traumatized, lost but ultimately decent and funny, and yeah, courageous Detective Ray Lennox that I had to “borrow it” and will pay the favour on. Here was a character desperately in need of saving, yet blundering along a path, awkward and foolhardy, towards saving someone else: a little girl being traded around by pedophiles. There are two main timelines interwoven through most of the story. The first is a week in Florida with his bride-to-be, for relaxing and planning his imminent wedding, when he goes AWOL on an all-night coke binge with a couple of ‘lively ladies’, and winds up defending the ten year old daughter from two hovering middle-aged predators, one of which turns out to be a highly-respected Florida cop. The second is the recent past, a month or so in Edinburgh where as a detective in the Serious Crimes unit of Lothian and Borders Police he is tracking an elusive and mocking serial killer in a shocking child sex-murder where because of his own misogyny, he takes a fatally wrong track, and is deeply disturbed by it. Haunted by images of the dead child, he can’t relax in the Florida sun with gorgeous, frustrated Trudi, but instead is driven to a lost weekend of booze and coke then a last-ditch attempt to save a vulnerable child that ends up being the saving of Ray Lennox. In the third act, a third storyline emerges, that of a shocking day from his own childhood that ended abruptly for him and his best pal with a deadly encounter with three rapists. The protagonist, as used to be the case in Welsh’s books, is deeply flawed and wounded, but authentic in his pain and courage. Welsh is a master of cracking dialogue, with his trademark acid Scottish humour running through the dialogue of Ray and all the other Scottish characters. Welsh’s skill is showing the character warts and all, peeling back his layers, like a surgeon exposing his ugliness and his weakness then digging out his fundamental decency, his humanity and ultimately his heroism. There’s a streak of uncharacteristic sentimentality a mile wide at the end that you might have hated in Rentboy, but it somehow sits well on Ray Lennox. A dark, violent, disturbing and deeply moving book by a writer well worth finding again. Four and a half stars.