“Have you got any books on how to follow somebody?”
The second book in the series offers some of the same screwball comedy about a simple man who tries to survive in the criminal underworld of Dublin. Paul Mulchrome is no longer running for his life, but he still struggles to put his life in order, both professionally and emotionally. Plus, he needs to learn about the detective business fast, even if it means going to the bookshop for references.
Paul, spurred by the success of his first case, is opening a private detective agency with his partners in crime: ex-police officer Bunny McGarry and ex-nurse Brigit Conroy.
The main issue right now for Paul is that the experienced Bunny has gone missing and the resourceful Brigit is refusing to speak to him after receiving compromising pictures of her fiance with a hooker, just as the proverbial femme fatale comes knocking on his agency’s door. Paul is left on his own to hold the fort.
She spoke in a kind of purring, breathy voice that didn’t exist in nature. It felt more like a crack team of female scientists had developed it to take advantage of the fact that all men are idiots.
The leggy blonde in the skin-tight red dress is clearly inspired by the famous entrance of Cameron Diaz in “The Mask”. In another short story included in my edition, there is a clear reference to the Monty Python parrot sketch. Yet, the overall impression for me is that Caimh McDonnell is keeping his stand-up comedy routines under leash and tries to take the series into more serious territory.
The meek might well inherit the Earth, but what state would it be in when they finally did?
The case Paul is offered by the blonde bombshell involves surveillance of a trio of big time investors in real estate who have just been let go by the justice system on a technicality. There is no shortage of incensed apartment buyers who were tricked into buying unfinished, substandard properties while the three ‘job creators’ siphoned off tens of millions of euros from the books.
When one of the three is murdered, the Garda gets involved along with the amateur sleuth Paul, while Brigit has her own quest to find out the missing third partner in the agency.
“Do you know what a Puca is?”
“Some kind of fairy?”
“It is a spirit in Irish mythology. Considered to be bringers of both good and bad fortune. There are various versions of the myth, of course, it varies wildly.”
A group of self-appointed fighters for social justice claim responsibility for the crime, while another group of homeless people led by the charismatic Father Frank occupy an abandoned office building in the financial district of Dublin [ The whole place had the feel of a music festival, without the music, that was being held in an office block. ]. DCI Burns, the new High Commissioner has to deal with all these complications and with the resentment of the old guard over her being a woman (she’s also hampered by her young and earnest assistant who sports a very weak stomach). The way Caimh McDonnell pays attention to the minor characters in the novel is one of the best things in the book for me.
There’s a lot of balls to keep up in the air for the author, a task that is made even harder by Caimh McDonnell decision to blend together two novels into one: he offers here two timelines that don’t mesh very well together until the very last chapters. One in the present and one twenty years earlier when a younger Bunny McGarry was trying to put pressure on city councilmen in order to save a community hall from demolition.
The purpose of the exercise is to make it clear that the true lead of the series is not the bumbling Paul, mostly responsible for the comedy routines, but Bunny McGarry, the wildcard and self-appointed vigilante of his beat.
“If you don’t mind me saying, you are a very peculiar man.”
“Sane though. I’ve got a piece of paper.”
Bunny’s sanity is debatable to outsiders, but in his own head there is little place for doubts or for scruples. Bunny is a man of violent action who firmly believes the goal excuses the means. He has been retired early from the Garda, but he continues to walk the streets as the top dog ... until he disappears at the start of this second episode.
He’ll lie, cheat, blackmail – whatever it takes. He’s not a bad man. He’s worse than that. He’s a good man who’ll do bad things for what he thinks is right.”
[...]
Because sometimes, the only way to beat the dirty dogs is to get dirtier.
It’s clear that the author has a soft spot for Bunny, and most of the readers responded with enthusiasm to his larger than life persona. Myself, I’m still undecided and I prefer the chapters told from the point of view of Paul and Brigit. Offered to the reader as larger than life, big, bold, uncouth – yet touched with a kind of ferocious, wild-eyed charm. , Bunny’s abrasive style and scatological humour seem to me a little forced and artificial, but I might warm up to him if I decide to continue with the series.
My choice is helped by the two extras included in the omnibus edition. These shorter works were easier to consume than the ambitious full length novel. Both of them focus on Bunny McGarry, reinforcing the impression that he will become the anchor for the whole series.
Bloody Christmas
The Christmas tale is a feel-good novella with a dark, subversive streak running through it, touching on vulnerable people in need of help: Caroline, a young woman who seems unable to hold a job and a family of illegal immigrants caught in the crossfire of a gang war.
Self-sabotage, low self-esteem, fear of success – these terms had felt like gut punches. Turns out she wasn’t unique, she was falling into a lot of the same sorry traps as lots of other people. OK, her little audit had highlighted that maybe she was drinking too much and leaning on recreational drugs a little too heavily. Thing is, unless she was way off, she didn’t think that was a cause, but rather a symptom. She didn’t have a drink or drug problem; she had a life problem. She needed to get better at having one, or at least believing that she deserved to.
Caroline, who’s job as Santa’s little helper puts her in the crosshairs of Bunny McGarry, is a fine example of the mix between dark comedy and social commentary that attracted me to the series in the first place.
The presence of Bunny’s hurling team of street urchins learning to sing a Christmas carol is the highlight of the novella for me, along with Bunny’s unorthodox voice coaching:
“Any final tips?” asked Pete.
“Yeah. Don’t go all in on two queens, never trust a builder who says he’ll be back first thing, and if someone tells you that they want to see other people, they already are and they’re almost certainly shagging them, probably your builder.”
Dog Day Afternoon
A much shorter work whose main role is to introduce a new character to the series: Bunny’s drug addicted and boozy dog Maggie. This is actually the origin story for Bunny’s partner and canine alter-ego Maggie, who will play her own important role in the full length second novel:
“I have forty-seven minutes to find a dead dog to take the place of a decorated police officer in front of a firing squad.”
This was a three stars experience upgraded to four stars from working on my review. I guess I’ll read one more book in the series to confirm the good impression so far.