Rebus seems to drink a little less than in “Black & Blue”, but still a lot. He is getting older too, and his subordinates are hinting none too subtly that it’s time for him to retire. He no longer has a desk of his own, but his intuition is still as sharp as ever, and his sense of duty still here. It, of course, takes much more than a quarrel over a suspect to do anything to his friendship with Siobhan – before long we see them working together again. And succeeding.

In this book Ian Rankin raises a huge social problem – illegal immigrants and their miseries. The locals feel no welcome for them; the government puts them in prison-like temporary shelters while investigating their claims and treats them much like criminals; the real criminals prey on them and turn them into slaves. Rebus has to deal with everything, to dig into the whole unpleasant business – and though his heart seems hardened enough with years of a police officer’s job, and his favourite image is “Mr Angry”, his compassion for these unfortunate people is obvious. That’s what brings him together with Caro Quinn, an artist and a social activist devoting her life to defending the immigrants’ rights, but their friendship doesn’t last. Caro overdoes on everything and, like most people of her kind, never knows where to stop and where to draw the line. So, after a night or two spent in pleasant conversations they both go their separate ways.

Rankin is honest – just like his main character he calls a spade a spade. “Fleshmarket Close” was a bestseller in its time – most probably, due to some sobering discoveries people were making while reading it. I’ve certainly learned a few things.