BOOK OF THE DAY: Bleed a River DeepBy Brian McGilloway Macmillan 297pp. £11.99
INSP BEN Devlin is becoming a favourite among serious fans of murder mysteries. If the author does not make vigorous efforts to curb Devlin’s addiction to cigarettes – together with that of numerous other characters – we might be left mourning them all before too long. That would indeed be a pity. As a Chechen immigrant says towards the end of this book – having earlier voiced a contrary opinion – Devlin is a fine man . . .
He is a fine man, not just because he goes to early Mass on Sundays, marks the sign of the cross on the forehead of a dying policewoman, whispers an Act of Contrition into her ear, and presses her hands to his lips; but precisely because that is his way to show his concern for other people. He is beautiful in his family, too, lovely with his wife and kids. He even goes out into the garden every time he smokes one of his coffin nails – though perhaps he has no choice in that.
Devlin is run off his feet with murders in Bleed a River Deep. The body count is at least nine – starting with Kate, a victim of ritual strangulation four thousand years ago: and as if that was not enough, she is now being dug up to travel to the US in the baggage of an ugly American who talks plenty about the fight against terrorists, but doesn't mind facilitating terrorism in countries where the US has no strategic interests. The action gravitates between Orcas – a goldmine between Ballybofey and Donegal town – and a US defence company called Eligius established outside Omagh some years ago. Two foci, one on each side of the Border. Increasingly, we begin to wonder what is really going on in either place. Deaths begin to happen – for example – a Chechen immigrant, a prospector for gold, a policewoman, a bar owner, a hippy protester who gave the ugly American a nasty scare at the opening of the goldmine, and eventually the owner of the goldmine himself.
A pattern or a series of patterns begins to emerge. Pollution of a river near the goldmine, causing fish to die – and God knows what else. Then, smuggling of defence software to Chechen terrorists, then trafficking in illegal immigrants with associated brutalities – extortion, prostitution, rape and even murder.
The PSNI and the Garda Síochána respect each other. Yet, inevitably, there are sensitivities. In a brilliant narrative device, Brian McGilloway has Devlin suspended from duty because of Devlin’s perceived failure to protect the ugly American from attack.
This means that Devlin is obliged, not only to conduct half of an investigation outside his own jurisdiction, but also to spearhead almost the whole operation, on both sides of the Border, while having no jurisdiction at all. It sure is a good trick, if you can do it. Devlin can, and does.
I was so surprised at the frequency of the F-word that I began counting from page 168. From that point there were 55 sightings.
Whatever about what real people do or do not say, with such glorious resources of vituperation available to us – especially in Irish – why repeat so obsessively these anglo-saxon grunts?
Andrew Nugent is a monk of Glenstal Abbey. His latest book,
Soul Murder
, was published by Headline/Hachette late last year