Do you still feel happy as a policeman? Is it what you really want?
The month of January was the bloodiest on record for Glasgow Detective Harry McCoy, sending him afterwards to a compulsory vacation for psychiatric evaluation. On the day he returns to work, he is greeted with another gruesome sight: a young football star cut to pieces atop a construction site, with a bloody message carved into his chest. It looks like our boy Harry can get no break from horror in this 1973 Glasgow that appears lifted right out of a ‘Sin City’ comic by Frank Miller.
I believe the comparison with Miller is not forced, I would even go so far as to mention that Alan Parks is more believable in his presentation and that his use of explicit violence, depression, mob warfare and f-bombs is never gratuitous but warranted by the kind of story he has to tell.
McCoy read the sign out: “Depression! Nymphomania! Drunkennes! Anxiety! Melancholia! Mania! All can be cured by LOBOTOMY. Ask me why the Government won’t allow it.”
I left a year pass since reading the first book in the series, so I was a little slow to catch up with Harry and with his rookie partner Wattie in this new investigation [ I also wanted to start in February, but I finished the book in March. ] Anyway, there is a definite sense of raising the stakes in both novels, with what begins as an isolated case later revealed to have much higher connections and consequences on the criminal underworld of Glasgow.
In an effort to avoid spoilers, I would mention only that the identity of the criminal is known right from the start, as is his psychopathic nature. What remains to be explained are his motivations, if he is being manipulated by a bad actor with a private agenda, and why the police has such a hard time catching up to him.
‘What is he? The bloody Scarlet Pimpernel?’
The lobotomy question arises out of the interviews Harry has with the killer’s contacts, as does a parallel investigation into a young homeless man’s suicide that hit too close to Harry’s own memories about growing up in orphan’s asylums:
Placed into care for their own protection. Wasn’t even ironic. It was just horrible.
Series regulars do a good job supporting Harry in his investigations, mostly his young partner Wattie, his boss Murray and, on the other side of the Law & Order divide, his childhood pal and current crime kingpin Stevie Cooper.
With such dark subjects as renegade doctors, deranged mind killers and child molesters in positions of power, the novel is in dire need of a sort of relief valve, which comes in the form of an even darker shade of bleak humour. My favorite guest star is the journalist Mary Stewart, who can sling insults, f-bombs and fast puns with the boys of the murder squad.
‘Come on, where’s your sense of humour, Mary?’
‘It’s where my boot’s going to be in a minute, right up your arse. You, arsehole, are going to tell me exactly what you know about a senior policeman’s death to make up for f_cking me about. Right?’
Harry McCoy angle in the series is that he is working both ways of the law: hard drinking, drug sampling, intimidating witnesses and running with the crime gangs when the situation demands it. Harry is no knight in shining armours cleaning mean streets: he’s a cynical, depressed man wondering if it’s worth wearing a badge in his corrupted town.
But he gets the job done, by whatever means at his disposal:
‘Sorry, are you? Well, that’s nice, but I couldn’t give a f_ck. I want you in Barlinnie. I want you to suffer every f_cking day.’ The wailing was increasing. ‘But I’m in a hurry, so there’s a deal on the table.’
Spence nodded, face looking hopeful. ‘Yes, please, anything.’
‘Okay. This is it. Non-repeatable, non-negotiable. You’re going to tell me everything I need to know now. Right now. And when we get to the station and you’re in your cell I’m going to take the turnkey for a cup of tea before he takes away your belt and your shoelaces. Should give you enough time, eh?’
What he was proposing dawned on Spence. His face crumpled.
‘What? Don’t tell me you thought you were getting off?’
>>><<<>>><<<
I made a note in the review of the first book that the plot seemed a bit contrived, too much like the script of an action flick with the need for clever plot twists and for ramping up the stakes. A casual remark late in the current episode sent me down the rabbit hole of internet research to find out that there really were monsters in the late sixties in the north of England, and that the public might have needed somebody like Harry McCoy to go on a crusade against them: real monsters like Ian Brady and Myra Hindley.
I plan to continue with the series, and it would probably be a good idea not to let another year pass before I read the next book.