"An addictive, brilliantly written page-turner"
"A cracking thriller starring Ian Rankin's new hero Malcolm Fox"
Fox works for me. Divorced and in his mid-40s, he's quieter than Rebus and warier of confrontation, but no less complex... So doubters be damned: this novel is taut, compulsive and hugely satisfying
This is the second outing for Rankin's Inspector Malcolm Fox, who has the seemingly impossible job of rooting out corrupt colleagues
Proving there's life - and murder - after gloomy Rebus, Rankin pops up with a new cop here, DI Fox
The plot, pacing and characterisation are all handled with impeccable skill, while Rankin infuses his story with subtle social commentary into the bargain. Fans may still mourn Rebus, but Fox is a worthy replacement
No one writes dialogue that seethes with conflict as well as him
This is Rankin, so it's only to be expected that the plotting should be tight, the dialogue quick-fire, the crimes disturbingly believable, taking place as they do in a world that is so thoroughly and obviously our own, today. What the creator of Rebus also gives us in Fox - initially in the inspector's first outing, The Complaints, and again here is another complex, driven policeman: difficult, largely miserable and lonely, but utterly real'
What is the most memorable here is the storyline about the deterioration of Fox's father, handled so sensitively as to make Henning Mankell's depiction of the decline of Wallander's father seem histrionic
Fox remains a worthy successor to Rebus, retaining his outsider status and incorruptibility but operating in a much more modern context
Post-Rebus Rankin has lost none of his mastery of excitingly gripping storytelling
masterful thriller that will have you gripped to the very last page
taut, compulsive and hugely satisfying, with plenty to say about the limits of memory and the dangers of historical idealism. If this is where Rankin is now, I'm not sure I'd want him to be anywhere else
He offers an account of personal and political alienation, the tactics needed to contain terrorism, and the desirability or otherwise of deceit
Could Ian Rankin ever follow his Rebus success? Happily for his fans, he proves he can
Last of all, envy stops me from saying more about Ian Rankin's new novel, than that it's impossibly good