After having read McIlvanney's excellent The Quaker back in 2018, I was interested to see what his debut novel was like. All of the Colours of the Town is not so much a crime novel as a novel about journalism, featuring an investigative reporter who looks into a possible link between a current politician and paramilitary activity. It's set in Glasgow and then follows the protagonist, Gerry Conway, to Belfast as he investigates whether MSP and Justice Minister Peter Lyons was involved in UVF activity back in the early 1980s. Conway chases the story and, along the way, encounters a deeply unsettling post-peace process Ulster, with gangsters still trading on past associations, families with an enduring embittered cynicism about the possibilities of justice, and journalists alternately driven by anger at the injustices of the past and fear of the repercussions of their own work in the present. Conway meets some colourful characters, gets beaten up, and ends up questioning his own arrogance and thirst for the story, especially given the potential human cost. As a story, it's not exactly fast paced, but it's also not predictable, and the gradually unfolding narrative paints a compelling, dark picture that probes questions of pride, truth and justice. It's told in the first person, from Conway's point of view, in rich, colloquial prose. McIlvanney is definitely a master of the metaphor and the descriptions of Glasgow and Belfast are vibrant and powerful; occasionally the writing comes across as a little contrived and the persistent use of slang or locally specific cultural references becomes slightly annoying when it's unclear what's actually being said. That said though, it remains impressive writing and powerful story telling: deeply believable, humane and complex, unwilling to rehearse a culturally and morally simplistic account of communities afflicted with a history of sectarian tensions.