| Publisher | Pan |
|---|---|
| Date Published | 02 September 2021 |
| ISBN-10 | 1529054036 |
| ISBN-13 | 978-1529054033 |
| Format | paperback |
| Pages | 416 |
| Price | £ 8.99 |
Edge of the Grave
by
The brutal murder of a young boy takes cop DI Jimmy Dreghornn into the depths of the Glasgow slums in the hunt for his killer.
Review
Comic book writer Robbie Morrison has turned his hand to crime and his debut, a strong, utterly black piece of social history, is very impressive.
Jimmy Dreghorn was a capable and rising boxer, picked in his teens as potential professional fighter by yard owner Sir Iain Lockhart, a hard and avaricious man who treats his workers better than most, largely to avoid the constant strikes which bedevil the industry. But his interest in Dreghorn ended when Lockhart’s daughter Isla showed a threateningly scandalous interest in the young boxer. The outbreak of the First War saw him volunteer with one the many Glasgow ‘Pals’ Battalions and by his 18th birthday he was baptized in the muddy hell of the Somme, killing with his rifle, bayonet, and even the sharpened edge of a shovel.
Dreghorn has brought all that attitude to a police career where his intelligence and hard work has seen him rise, despite his Catholicism, in a notoriously brutal and corrupt force where position in the Masonic Order can be more important than police rank. But even he is sickened when called to a cheap tenement over the horrific murder of a six-year-old boy by his drunken father who has also beaten his wife senseless. While attempting to track down the killer, who has taken refuge with his minor gangland friends, Dreghorn and his sergeant, the giant western islander ‘Bonnie’ Archie McDaid, a former Olympic weightlifter, are diverted to the killing of Lockhart’s handsome, nere-do-well son-in-law at the yard-owners request, found floating in the Clyde with his throat cut.
This is a chilling and brutal, but also in parts deeply affecting, tale of a divided city. Morrison’s descriptions of the contrast between the have and have-nots could not be clearer. Glasgow’s gangland underworld is viciously sectarian. Different parts are absolute no-go areas for their neighbours and fists and flashing razor blades – the weapon of choice – emphasize religious differences. Add to this the backstabbing upper reaches of government and big business, and throw in some black family secrets and the result is quite magnificent and utterly compelling.
Morrison writes brilliantly, bringing the most minor players to often frightening life and gives due importance to the real people who feature in the story – such as Sir Percy Sillitoe, the laconic and aristocratic Englishman and later head of MI5, who dragged Glasgow’s police force kicking and struggling into the 20th century.
There are, if you want to be hyper-critical, a few weaknesses. While Morrison takes pity on the English by toning down the near incomprehensible Glasgow vernacular, some of his phraseology is far too modern, and there are other minor jarring anachronisms.
This dark and powerful story is without any doubt the most gripping piece of Tartan noir I‘ve read in years.
Jimmy Dreghorn was a capable and rising boxer, picked in his teens as potential professional fighter by yard owner Sir Iain Lockhart, a hard and avaricious man who treats his workers better than most, largely to avoid the constant strikes which bedevil the industry. But his interest in Dreghorn ended when Lockhart’s daughter Isla showed a threateningly scandalous interest in the young boxer. The outbreak of the First War saw him volunteer with one the many Glasgow ‘Pals’ Battalions and by his 18th birthday he was baptized in the muddy hell of the Somme, killing with his rifle, bayonet, and even the sharpened edge of a shovel.
Dreghorn has brought all that attitude to a police career where his intelligence and hard work has seen him rise, despite his Catholicism, in a notoriously brutal and corrupt force where position in the Masonic Order can be more important than police rank. But even he is sickened when called to a cheap tenement over the horrific murder of a six-year-old boy by his drunken father who has also beaten his wife senseless. While attempting to track down the killer, who has taken refuge with his minor gangland friends, Dreghorn and his sergeant, the giant western islander ‘Bonnie’ Archie McDaid, a former Olympic weightlifter, are diverted to the killing of Lockhart’s handsome, nere-do-well son-in-law at the yard-owners request, found floating in the Clyde with his throat cut.
This is a chilling and brutal, but also in parts deeply affecting, tale of a divided city. Morrison’s descriptions of the contrast between the have and have-nots could not be clearer. Glasgow’s gangland underworld is viciously sectarian. Different parts are absolute no-go areas for their neighbours and fists and flashing razor blades – the weapon of choice – emphasize religious differences. Add to this the backstabbing upper reaches of government and big business, and throw in some black family secrets and the result is quite magnificent and utterly compelling.
Morrison writes brilliantly, bringing the most minor players to often frightening life and gives due importance to the real people who feature in the story – such as Sir Percy Sillitoe, the laconic and aristocratic Englishman and later head of MI5, who dragged Glasgow’s police force kicking and struggling into the 20th century.
There are, if you want to be hyper-critical, a few weaknesses. While Morrison takes pity on the English by toning down the near incomprehensible Glasgow vernacular, some of his phraseology is far too modern, and there are other minor jarring anachronisms.
This dark and powerful story is without any doubt the most gripping piece of Tartan noir I‘ve read in years.
Reviewed 25 June 2022 by John Cleal
