The second part of the Dublin Trilogy. A gripping crime plot underpinned by sharp humour. Caimh McDonnell can do it!
Paul Mulchrone is starting a detective agency. He's penniless, partnerless and partnerless (don't listen, Maggie) - but he's got his first case! He'll be following construction magnate Hartigan on the orders of a jealous mistress. The very man who is standing trial in Dublin for embezzling money from clients who, strangely enough, wanted to live there. The very one whose companion was found strangely murdered. The very one whose other partner decided years ago to build on the land that housed Bunny McGarry's hockey team. Oddly enough: because if you don't have problems with Bunny, you don't have any. Let's throw in a disgraced nurse named Brigit who ties lecherous doctors to their beds; Officer Wilson, who really doesn't have a stomach for dead bodies; the messianic preacher Franks, a bunch of squatters with a data-grabbing bank, a mob of looting protesters - and of course Dublin, because you won't find all this at once anywhere else. Who can mix it up and untangle it again so that the least likely pieces of the puzzle fit together exactly? Only Caimh McDonnell.
The heroes of the first part of the Dublin trilogy return in another story that inimitably combines gritty crime fiction with absurd Irish humour. After The Man Without a Face, it seemed like nothing crazier and funnier would ever come. Wrong: it's here.
Warning to detectives: never give beer to a dog!
Warning to criminals: never underestimate a dog that's been given a beer!
