The Violent Hour by James Oswald review: 'dark, spooky and ambitious'

James Oswald | David Cruickshanks

Edinburgh is trapped in a heatwave, and a brutal and violent killer is on the loose. Detectives in the Capital find a body, unrecognisable and ripped to shreds, with another one, destroyed with equal savagery, found not long after. The Festival is full swing, and with the discovery of a naked body on the beach, this time found alive, the police put in the overtime to solve this puzzle before someone else is targeted.

As someone who has read every single mystery book she can get her hands on, I am frankly astonished to say that The Violent Hour took me completely by surprise. My eyes grew wider and wider as the book went on, and my jaw was on the floor by the time we reached the finale. This isn’t so much a whodunnit as a ‘sorry... what?’

Read more here: The Long Isle by Andrew Raymond review: 'oozing with atmosphere'

The Violent Hour is the latest in the Inspector McLean series, and having not read a James Oswald book before, I was judging this one as a standalone. It by and large works as one - there are a few hints about previous events, but no major spoilers, so that if you chose to return to read more, you can face them fresh.

Given the description and the cover, I felt pretty confident I knew what to expect - a slightly worn-out Tartan Noir - and indeed, it did start that way. But by the time the book was half-way done, I realised it was heading in a direction that I wouldn’t have predicted in a million years. And I was having a wonderful time.

Detective Inspector Tony McLean is a great central character. He’s not your average grizzled, cantankerous, alcoholic who is unnecessarily and inexplicably rude and aggressive to everyone they meet, breaking rules left, right and centre as every other fictional Scottish detective appears to be. He’s nice, average, kind and caring. Remarkable in his unremarkable-ness. There is a realism to the characters in the main, allowing the crimes committed to stand in stark contrast.

The novel is well written, and despite getting a little bogged down in the procedural part of a standard police procedural near the start, it’s fast-paced and lively. The gruesome detail is particularly gruesome though, so those with sensitive stomachs should be prepared.

On a personal note, I found the portrayal of journalists to be somewhat cartoonish and unfair. Is it really so unreasonable to think the public should be made aware of what the police are doing to catch a violent and bloody killer? But I am, of course, biased.

This is a very enjoyable book, dark, spooky and ambitious, and all I could think when I finished it was “well, that was fun.”

The Violent Hour, by James Oswald, Wildfire, £20

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