Ian Rankin & Inspector Rebus (17 page)

Maybe the same people who wanted to hear more about Rebus after
Knots and Crosses
will want to hear more about Siobhan, but it’s certainly to her that the future belongs, not to Rebus.

The book isn’t just about the relationship between the characters: there’s G8 too, along with other topics that were important to Rankin. ‘How could I ignore the G8? It
was the biggest thing to happen in my hometown in a generation; every cop in the city played a part. It was ready-made for Rebus to come stomping all over it. Besides, the books had been becoming more overtly political, and by using the G8 I could offer a few further observations.’

Like
Strip Jack
,
Let It Bleed, Black and Blue
and most of the others since
Resurrection Men, The Naming of the Dead
is a political novel.

How do the decisions made by the powers that be affect Scotland? Not just Edinburgh but the bigger picture? Where has Scottish industry gone? Where have the once vibrant mining towns gone? Indeed where have the busy shipyards, such as Rosyth, gone? Is it just ‘progress’ that has shut all this down? Was it just progress that wanted Scottish oil to fuel a war imposed by the
British government? The one important point that
The Naming of the Dead
opens up for me is how little a voice Scotland has had in shaping its future over the past hundred years or so. It seems as though – and perhaps this is the optimism in Rankin’s writing – that with G8 coming to Scotland, it was as if their collective voice was now beginning to be heard, that the Scottish Parliament suddenly
had importance on the world stage.

‘… First Minister of the Scottish Parliament was on the tarmac to greet the world leaders.’

The Naming of the Dead

‘The girl screamed once, only the once, but it was enough.’

Exit Music

J
ackie Leven’s song ‘John Rebus’ depicts a lonely man by its musical content alone – the kind of man we witnessed sitting alone at the bar in
The Naming of the Dead
.

Most single men, when engrossed in a very busy – intricate – working life, have no time to be lonely. They have their occupation,
colleagues and other distractions to keep them busy. But what is interesting – with regards to Rebus’s self-contentment – is his thought processes at the beginning of his last book,
Exit Music
. He meets with another policeman who is due for retirement, not as immediately as Rebus, but nevertheless
he
had major plans for his retirement. He would become a taxi driver. Rebus is quite clear that he
wouldn’t undertake such a profession, but he thinks of the normal comforts of retirement – a house, a wife, loving children nearby, or a complete escape to a foreign clime with a loved one – but none of that is applicable to him. He doesn’t have his own home, he is divorced, and his child is living in sin in London while he is alone in Edinburgh.

Maybe Rebus could snatch some time with his friend
Siobhan Clarke, but maybe she can get on with her own life and career now without him around.

So what is left? The pub?

A depressing picture begins to take shape and that is coupled with a sense of unfulfilment. Again, at the beginning of
Exit Music
there is Rebus making Clarke go through all his unfinished cases with him. Conversely, there is complete complacency, as Rebus and Clarke attend
an autopsy and hardly take notice of what is going on. Rebus is tired. He is aware of the shortcomings in his life – personal and professional – but there is only so much that can be put right. In that respect he is a realist, but he has something of the cynic about him that keeps him away from pragmatism. So is he an underachiever? In a way, yes. He hasn’t shaped his destiny the best way possible
and he only has himself to blame for that.

Destiny is something Rebus blanks out as much as possible. His destiny has been shattered by his memories – those facts in his life that brought down his dreams. He was an underachiever in the SAS, an underachiever in relationships – from Rhona to anyone else he tries to court – and could have done better in the Police Force. There is a telling moment
in
Death Is Not The End
, where he speculates that if he died that night he would leave nothing significant behind, and that made him want to drink: the last solace for the unhappy man.

So with that in mind,
Exit Music
is really about parting dignity – from the force, his colleagues and his enemies.

Enter ‘Big Ger’ Cafferty stage right. Rebus has had minor victories over Cafferty but a showdown
between the two men was inevitable. It happened in
Exit Music
– to a degree – but that nagging feeling of unfinished business, underachievement – just a general feeling of discontent – is prevalent at the end for both the reader and John Rebus. And that in itself encapsulates Rebus’s whole life, from our first meeting with him (where we learn about his premature exit from the SAS) to his ongoing,
haphazard, disparate love life (peppered with booze, greasy food and too much hard work). Rebus is a stomach ulcer waiting to happen and he embodies many retiring police officers with bad habits and ruined relationships because of the intensity of the job. Although one could argue that he epitomises the retiring Scot, I would venture he epitomises the same type of creature in England, Wales and
Ireland too. He is as much a victim of ‘British’ society as a self-wounding teenager with a low opinion of him/herself.

In 2007 I interviewed Leonard ‘Nipper’ Read, the arresting officer of the infamous Kray Twins and a man who also played his part in the capture of criminals working on The Great Train Robbery. Despite a high-profile career, Read told me that he was the victim of jealousy within
the force that cost him a promised promotion, so even being a celebrity copper in the real world has its share of discontent.

And what about Siobhan?

I hate the cliché of unrequited love. Rebus is an older man, working with and influencing a much younger, not unattractive, intelligent woman. He will undoubtedly find her attractive or easy on the eye but he doesn’t let that interfere with their
relationship – personal or professional – and Siobhan respects him for that. My God, he
can
be a realist when he needs to be.

In a profession rife with sexism and one-upmanship, Rebus and Siobhan had found someone (each other) with the same moral code with regard to work, but completely different in age, gender and habits.

Some comparisons can be made between Siobhan and the young Gill Templer
– and Gill had been his girlfriend – but all that strengthens is the argument that Rebus would find the lady attractive when younger. Let’s be honest, if they had had a relationship, Siobhan would have probably gone the way of Gill: obtain her promotion and start pulling her hair out over John bloody Rebus!

‘Goodyear was chatting to Siobhan Clarke now. Whatever he said made her laugh. Rebus
decided it was time for a cigarette break and reached out to take Sonia’s hand, planting a kiss on the back of it.’

Exit Music

What is interesting is how Rebus and Siobhan’s relationship will endure after Rebus leaves the force. In what way will they confide, socialise and interact with each other, and how will they cope with other people’s opinion of that relationship? There is a bond between
them that the intensity of their work has forged. Their lives have been in each other’s hands and, perhaps, that is the mutual understanding as to how they will take their own lives forward. And there lies the rub: Siobhan and Rebus house the perfect platonic relationship. And one thing is for certain, she will shed a tear when he dies, because she knows that he really loved her but never admitted
it.

Do we get any of this information from
Exit Music
itself? Yes. That one moment before Rebus takes Sonia’s hand. It’s left unsaid but it’s symbolic because spiritually, Rebus has just let go of Siobhan’s hand.

‘… he couldn’t see himself ever leaving

Edinburgh. It was the oxygen in his bloodstream, but still with mysteries to be explored.’

Exit Music

Exit Music
is set in the late autumn
of Edinburgh and the career of DI John Rebus. We find him trying to tie up the loose ends of his career but being thwarted by the murder of a Russian poet. Even though Rebus’s career is coming to an end, the crimes on the streets of Edinburgh continue – a humbling notion surely, as he must have originally set out, like most young cops, to bring crime to a grinding stop!

A key aspect of the novel
is a Russian delegation coming to Edinburgh in order to bring new business to the city, an interesting point when one considers a Russian has just been killed in Edinburgh. Somebody doesn’t want progress…

So much has changed in Scotland since Rebus joined the force but there is one constant: ‘Big Ger’ Cafferty. It has been Cafferty’s presence that has kept Rebus’s spark of duty alive, almost
as if the gangster’s presence keeps Rebus somehow in line. He would never jeopardise his career if he knew that there was a genuine possibility of putting Cafferty behind bars once and for all.

There is a synergy between the cop and the gangster and the nuances of this are not appreciated until Cafferty is beaten up with only days to go before Rebus retirement. Surely he is to blame? Even the
good guys think that he was behind it. And doesn’t this hark back to the first Rebus novel, where we believe Rebus could be the murderer?

Cafferty dies at the hospital but Rebus is there and he fights to bring his nemesis back because he needs a big showdown – he wants blood and pain, not a death in sleep. Death in sleep was for Rebus to endure at the end of retirement, not ‘Big Ger’!

Rebus
hangs on to Cafferty’s life because it is one of the few things left that make sense in his own life. He remembers how he got the name Strawman: when called to the dock to give evidence against Cafferty, somebody called the wrong name – which sounded like Strawman – and Cafferty had called him that ever since. And as the lyrics of Lou Reed’s song would dictate, a Strawman would go straight to the
Devil and then straight on to hell. ‘I’ll see you there, Strawman, third piece of fiery brimstone to the left. Just me and you, slugging it out for eternity.’

The interesting thing about
Exit Music
is that as Rebus spirals to his doomsday, Siobhan Clarke gets immersed deeper into the thought processes that would make her a much better police officer – she has a future, Rebus doesn’t. But she
has something of Rebus’s unorthodox approach to her; something has indeed rubbed off from the sorcerer to the apprentice, which in a way proves that the system doesn’t really work. Rules have to be broken occasionally.

Siobhan didn’t start out a cynic or a maverick and, although time will tell if these influences will prevail, she can at least see them and understand them. She will have to choose
what course she wants to follow in the future. By being with Rebus, she has grown up very quickly, gained much experience – was it too much too soon? No, of course it wasn’t, but that trait of cynicism would be with her for a little while yet… won’t it, John?

The quote from
Exit Music
at the head of this chapter brings the Rebus series full circle. It is the opening line of the novel and echoes
the opening line of the very first Rebus novel
Knots and Crosses
: ‘The girl screamed once, only once.’

One can always over-analyse the change of writing style, speculating that if Rankin rewrote
Knots and Crosses
, he would lengthen the original opening line to give more rhythm and allow the reader to dwell on the verb. Frankly, he probably changed it deliberately on nothing more than a whim.
But the following story would show less cut and thrust and more subtlety within the sub-text. Rankin has commented on – analysed – his own novels (see
Rebus’s Scotland
at least), and through writing about Rebus for 20 years and at least as many novels, novellas and other collections, he would know more – and ostensibly have more to say – about the character and his profession. In short, we are
talking confidence here. Rankin is so familiar with his characters, at ease with his own style – gently explaining the odd Scottish word or phrase – that there is a natural flow that comes from all Rebus novels. From
Black and Blue
onwards? No, from the very beginning, but as far as my personal enjoyment is concerned, from
The Black Book
onwards – the book that introduced St Leonard’s,’ Big Ger’
and Siobhan Clarke.

Finally, is
Exit Music
a grand finale for John Rebus, or is it an anti-climax? That’s an interesting question and one I posed to Rankin.

‘The version of
Exit Music
I handed to my editor ended with Rebus at the railway station. My editor begged me to take Rebus back to the hospital for one last scene with “Big Ger”. I think that worked. Maybe it’s better than the original
ending; maybe it’s just a different ending.’

But can Rankin let Rebus go?

‘It’s funny but with
The Complaints
[the next big novel after
Exit Music
], the story takes place in the Edinburgh police HQ… and I can sort of feel Rebus’s presence just through the walls; maybe in the next office or corridor along, or one flight up; or in the canteen. He’s still working somewhere, he hasn’t left the building.’

But is this indeed The End for Rebus, as there is a new character that populates Rankin’s novels?

‘Let’s see what the future brings,’ Rankin says. ‘My new character is an Internal Affairs cop. There are a few skeletons in Rebus’s closet, aren’t there? Who knows, maybe Internal Affairs will come knocking on his door one fine day…
⁷¹

‘I never forget a face, but in your case I’ll be glad to make
an exception.’

Groucho Marx

‘“You’ve known Cafferty a long time,” Stone said.
“Nigh on twenty years.”
“You first gave evidence against him in Glasgow
High Court.”
“That’s right. Bloody lawyer got me mixed up with the previous witness, called me ‘Mr Stroman.’ After that, Cafferty’s nickname for me was Strawman.”
“Like in The Wizard of Oz?”’