Given his contempt for authority, his tendency to pursue investigative avenues of his own choosing, and his habitually ornery manner, it's a wonder that John Rebus hasn't been booted unceremoniously from his job as an Edinburgh cop. He certainly tempts that fate again in A Question of Blood, which finds him and his younger partner, Detective Sergeant Siobhan Clarke, trying to close the case of a withdrawn ex-soldier named Lee Herdman, who apparently shot three teenage boys at a Scottish private school, leaving two of them dead, before turning the pistol on himself.

"There’s no mystery," Siobhan insists at the start of this 14th Rebus novel (following Resurrection Men). "Herdman lost his marbles, that’s all." However, the hard-drinking, chain-smoking Rebus, who'd once sought entry into the same elite regiment in which Herdman served (but ultimately cracked under psychological interrogation), thinks there's more motive than mania behind this classroom slaughter. Perhaps something to do with the gunman's role in a 1995 mission to salvage a downed military helicopter, or with Teri Cotter, a 15-year-old "Goth" who broadcasts her bedroom life over the Internet, yet keeps private her relationship with the haunted Herdman. Rebus's doubts about the murder-suicide theory are deepened with the appearance of two tight-lipped army investigators, and by the peculiar behavior of James Bell, the boy who was only wounded during Herdman's firing spree and whose politician father hopes to use that tragedy as ammo in the campaign against widespread gun ownership. But the detective inspector's focus on this inquiry is susceptible to diversion, both by an internal police probe into his role in the burning death of a small-time crook who'd been stalking Siobhan, and by the fact that Rebus--who shies away from any family contacts--was related to one of Herdman’s victims.

Now middle-aged and on the downward slope of his pugnacity (the high point may have come in 1997's Black and Blue), Rebus has become the engine of his own obsolescence. Overexposure to criminals has left him better at understanding them than his colleagues, and he only worsens his career standing by fighting other people's battles for them, especially Siobhan, who risks learning too many lessons from her mentor. To watch Rebus subvert police conventions and fend of personal demons (that latter struggle mirrored in A Question of Blood by Herdman's own) is worth the admission to this consistently ambitious series. --J. Kingston Pierce


From Publishers Weekly
The 14th novel to feature the always compelling (and, as his name suggests, perpetually puzzling) John Rebus begins with what seems to be a uniquely American crime: a madman enters a school and starts shooting, killing two students and wounding a third before turning the gun on himself. But we're in Rankin country-a perpetually damp and morally bankrupt Edinburgh-with Rebus and Siobhan Clarke searching for the real story behind what seems an act of sheer madness. This immensely satisfying police procedural has plenty of forensic science, but Rebus knows that "none of it might make them any the wiser about the only question that mattered....The why." Why did Lee Herdman, a drop-out of the U.K. version of the Special Forces, go on a rampage? Why was James Bell, the son of a self-righteous Scottish M.P., merely wounded? And why are two Army investigators sniffing around the case? A subplot has Rebus himself under suspicion of murder: a minor criminal is found dead, burned in an apartment fire, and Rebus shows up with heavily bandaged hands the next morning. The detectives encounter every stratum of contemporary Scottish society, from angry teenage toughs and petty criminals to the privileged and the powerful. It's a complex narrative, perhaps too much so at times, but the plot is less important than Rebus himself, a brilliantly conceived hero who is all too aware of his own shortcomings. In an essentially amoral society, his moral compass is always pointed steadily towards the truth. Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.


From Bookmarks Magazine
Inspector John Rebus is, as always, a complex and genre-defining character. With burned hands and a dependence on malt liquor, his senses here have been dulled. That doesn't stop him from carrying this compelling novel, but not to heights as lofty as Rankin has reached previously. A few critics report that this entry in the series is not completely up to par. Others, however, call A Question of Blood one of the author's most dazzling displays yet. "Rankin does write violent guy-books, of course," attests the Washington Post, "but with such skill that anyone who appreciates good writing should enjoy them." If you haven't read an Inspector Rebus novel yet, here's your chance.Copyright © 2004 Phillips & Nelson Media, Inc.


From AudioFile
When a two-bit criminal is found burned to death and Inspector John Rebus, last to see him alive, appears the next day with severely burned hands and a lame excuse for his injuries, Rebus suddenly becomes a prime suspect. Hoping to avoid an official inquiry, he begins work on an apparently open-and-shut case, a fatal shooting at a private school. James Macpherson's Scot's brogue is one of the best reasons for listening. His characterizations are entertaining, and his handling of convoluted plot points is gratifying. In his fourteenth John Rebus novel, Ian Rankin presents another intriguing police procedural, this one with fascinating forensics, some pithy reflections on gun control, and a number of startling revelations. Sadly, the abridgment is thin, leaving the listener wondering what's missing. S.J.H. © AudioFile 2004, Portland, Maine-- Copyright © AudioFile, Portland, Maine


From Booklist
Those "dialogues of the left-unsaid" that have been plaguing Edinburgh copper John Rebus for years (but especially in Dead Souls, 1999) are making themselves heard again, this time in response to an ugly murder with ties to Rebus' own life and family. When a seemingly berserk veteran of the British army's special forces shoots himself after killing two teenage boys and wounding another, Rebus is asked by a colleague to help get inside the shooter's head. (Rebus carries his own scars from the army.) Meanwhile, the rule-breaking inspector is once again the object of an internal investigation, this time to determine if he was involved in the death of a lowlife who was stalking Rebus' partner, Siobhan Clarke. Rebus' demons may not seem quite as compelling a metaphor for the heart of darkness as they once did (Rankin has been mining this theme steadily through 15 books), but the character himself remains among the most fascinating in the genre. Cantankerously anachronistic, the hard-drinking, chain-smoking, unrepentantly individualistic loner absolutely refuses to accommodate himself to a repugnant modern world full of white-wine-drinking, rule-following company men and women. About the only thing left in Rebus' world that he understands is the bad guys, which is why he pursues them so vigorously. Even if his demons have become familiar, his rants are like poetry to kindred souls. Bill Ott
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved

FROM THE PUBLISHER

There is no mystery. Lee Herdman stormed into a private school just north of Edinburgh and killed two boys. He was a loner, a creep, an army veteran who got kicks out of terrifying local teenagers on his speedboat - just the sort of shady character to commit a random and heinous crime. It's a simple case of a man gone mad.

But how random were the killings at Port Edgar Academy? Why did Herdman open fire only in the student lounge, bypassing the swarm of students outside the school? What exactly was his relationship with the school's misfits? Why are military detectives snooping around the murder scene? And why is the only survivor of the attack, recuperating in the hospital, reluctant to talk?

There is indeed a mystery - only this time, it's why.

When Detective Inspector John Rebus is called out of his jurisdiction to investigate the killings, he is relieved to have the distraction. His entire precinct is abuzz with rumors of his involvement in the death of Martin Fairstone, an ex-con who had been menacing Rebus's partner, Detective Sergeant Siobhan Clarke.

For weeks Fairstone tormented Siobhan: followed her home, left her cryptic messages, even threatened violence. But her woes didn't end when Fairstone died in a fire that consumed his apartment. Now Siobhan has a new worry - the morning after Fairstone's body was found, Rebus appeared with bandages on his severely burned hands. No one, not even Siobhan, can ignore the coincidence.

Immersing himself in the Port Edgar killings does little to help Rebus avoid everyone's suspicion, but an unexpected family tie draws him deeper into the case. With his superiors at police headquarters breathing down his neck, his partner'strust diminishing, and the key witness to the entire private school inquiry staying silent in a hospital bed, Rebus finds himself up against what may become insurmountable odds, asking himself what drives a man to kill - is it a matter of revenge, or a question of blood?

FROM THE CRITICS

The New York Times

A Question of Blood confirms Mr. Rankin's place ￯﾿ﾽ for those who don't already know him, although his preceding Resurrection Men reached American best-seller lists ￯﾿ﾽ as part of the nouveau-noir pantheon that dominates contemporary mystery writing. Character, setting and conscience count for at least as much as plot does in the masculine, brooding work of Dennis Lehane, Michael Connelly, Harlan Coben, George P. Pelecanos and Jonathan Kellerman, not to mention Peter Robinson, another stellar British practitioner of this craft. — Janet Maslin

The Washington Post

Between Rebus's investigation of the school shootings and the department's investigation of Rebus, Rankin has an abundance of plot to spin, and he does so with his usual skill. But it is not plot alone that has made Rankin one of England's most popular crime novelists. This series's strength starts with Rebus himself, who after 14 novels has emerged as the baddest of the bad boys of modern crime fiction. He is fiftyish, overweight, alcoholic, a chain smoker, surly, short-tempered, divorced, estranged from his family, a loner, a nut about obscure rock-and-roll groups, hostile to all authority and possibly psychotic. Needless to say, women love him -- ladies love outlaws -- and his police colleagues tolerate him because he's an ace detective. — Patrick Anderson

Publishers Weekly

The 14th novel to feature the always compelling (and, as his name suggests, perpetually puzzling) John Rebus begins with what seems to be a uniquely American crime: a madman enters a school and starts shooting, killing two students and wounding a third before turning the gun on himself. But we're in Rankin country-a perpetually damp and morally bankrupt Edinburgh-with Rebus and Siobhan Clarke searching for the real story behind what seems an act of sheer madness. This immensely satisfying police procedural has plenty of forensic science, but Rebus knows that "none of it might make them any the wiser about the only question that mattered....The why." Why did Lee Herdman, a drop-out of the U.K. version of the Special Forces, go on a rampage? Why was James Bell, the son of a self-righteous Scottish M.P., merely wounded? And why are two Army investigators sniffing around the case? A subplot has Rebus himself under suspicion of murder: a minor criminal is found dead, burned in an apartment fire, and Rebus shows up with heavily bandaged hands the next morning. The detectives encounter every stratum of contemporary Scottish society, from angry teenage toughs and petty criminals to the privileged and the powerful. It's a complex narrative, perhaps too much so at times, but the plot is less important than Rebus himself, a brilliantly conceived hero who is all too aware of his own shortcomings. In an essentially amoral society, his moral compass is always pointed steadily towards the truth. (Feb. 9) Forecast: According to the English newspaper The Guardian, Rankin books account for 10% of all crime book sales in the U.K. Already a #1 bestseller in Britain, A Question of Blood is bound to enfold more American readers in the Rankin cult. Copyright 2003 Reed Business Information.

Library Journal

If a butterfly bites the dust in Rotterdam, what's the fallout in Edinburgh? A web of delicate relationships lies at the heart of the latest entry in Rankin's benchmark Inspector Rebus series (after Resurrection Men). Rebus finds himself in hot water again, this time literally, with severely scalded hands, the result of either too hot dish- or bathwater. After the stalker of a colleague turns up dead-in a fire-suspicion naturally falls on Rebus, who is suspended for the duration of the investigation. Meanwhile, a school shooting reminiscent of the Dunblane massacre in 1996 leaves two students and the assailant dead, with a third wounded. It all seems elementary enough, until Rebus, with time on his bandaged hands, is called in as a consultant, complicating matters by unraveling the simplistic solutions. When everything falls into place, drugs, Rotterdam diamonds, and the Edinburgh goth scene are all shown to play a part. And as Rebus investigates the school assailant-a Special Air Service dropout and loner-embarrassing parallels develop between them that are appropriate enough to the city that spawned Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. A good choice for public libraries. [Previewed in Prepub Alert, LJ 10/15/03.]-Bob Lunn, Kansas City P.L., MO Copyright 2003 Reed Business Information.

Kirkus Reviews