No matter what, I can't stay away from Belfast.
Detective Sean Duffy returns in Adrian McKinty's I Hear the Sirens in the Street and the gumshoe manages to claw into and out of more adversity. Already somewhat out of place as a Catholic copper in the largely Protestant town of Carrickfergus (home of the NIFL's Carrick Rangers), Duffy knows he is in for a head-scratcher of a case when the torso of an American shows up in a suitcase. The deceased Bill O'Rourke (odd frisson for this reader, as I know a Bill O'Rourke from my high school days) seemed to be an average American tourist in the wrong place at the wrong time, but the more Duffy digs for the facts, the more unsettling news he unearths. O'Rourke turns out to have been an IRS man who formerly served in the US military. For what purpose, then, was he savagely chopped into suitcase bait?
Duffy's investigation takes him through a labyrinth of old-school landowners and police procedure. Set against the backdrop of the Falklands Crisis for the UK, Duffy also encounters John DeLorean, who has built a factory in the Belfast area to give it a much-needed shot in the economic veins. McKinty expertly weaves Duffy's fictional steps around and through the actual events taking place on the Northern Ireland and world stage, as he did in his first installment of the Troubles Trilogy, The Cold Cold Ground.
Unfortunately for Duffy, his case takes him into the proverbial Slough of Despond. Another unseen agent gives him the tip that opens the case, but he is officially taken off the matter. Pushing back against his superiors, Duffy chances a trip to America to discover more about why O'Rourke assumed room temperature so brutally, only to be met with a near brutal end himself, courtesy of the FBI. Upon returning home, Duffy risks his life and confronts the guilty, barely surviving the shootout. It is enough for Duffy to remain alive, but the ensuing disciplinary hearing will have readers wondering in what capacity Duffy will return for the final book of the Troubles Trilogy.
[There were some typesetting issues in the story, but that could have just been the particular copy I got from the library. These matters don't interfere with the story's flow.]
Once again, McKinty earns well-deserved praise for another smashing entry in the Duffy story. Although the tale ranges widely, I never believed events or details were wasted rabbit trails. M.C. Beaton this is not. Also, this is no cozy mystery. The noir experience is thick but not overbearing, and Duffy's language and libido are set against the backdrop of the rage of Belfast in the early Eighties. A clean story would seem too incongruous to readers, who should be able to navigate the details as long as they know what to expect. As for me, I love diving into the world of Belfast at any point. All I tend to get from there are Twitter updates from the Belfast Telegraph and nailbiting news regarding my favorite NIFL Premiership squad, Crusaders FC.
McKinty has already told me he believes the third book of the Troubles Trilogy, In the Morning I'll Be Gone, is the best of this trifecta. If it approaches anything like these first two, then get out the crayons and color me tickled pink.
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