The April dead

The fourth in Parks' unrelenting Harry McCoy series again probes the fissures in the social fabric of 1970s Glasgow, exposing a city teetering on the brink of chaos. It begins when an American sailor goes missing from a naval base but quickly spirals from there to a plot by Scottish nationalists to wreak havoc. Bombings, Harry had assumed, were an Irish problem, but when Glasgow spawns its own crazed purveyors of homemade explosives, his vision changes dramatically. Is the missing sailor linked to the bombings? As Harry attempts to sort that out, he must also deal with his childhood friend Cooper, now a crime boss recently released from prison who is struggling to regain his position in the Glasgow underworld. The violence is nonstop, and it's taking a toll on Harry's ulcer-ravaged stomach and fragile psyche: "He was getting tired of all this . . . . Didn't want to see tied-up boys screaming fear, men getting glass picked out of their faces." Parks is less well known than other Scottish noir masters (Val McDermid, Ian Rankin, Denise Mina), but he deserves a seat at their table.

Set in 1974 against the backdrop of British-IRA tensions, Edgar finalist Parks's outstanding fourth outing for Glasgow cop Harry McCoy (after 2020's Bobby March Will Live Forever) opens with McCoy and his police colleagues checking out what's left of a flat that's been destroyed by a bomb explosion--and of the bomb maker. Could it be the work of the IRA? More bombings follow. Meanwhile, a retired U.S. Navy captain wants McCoy to find his son, who has gone AWOL from a nearby U.S. naval base, and Stevie Cooper, McCoy's boyhood friend who's now an underworld boss just released from jail, involves McCoy in his attempt to beat down a gang takeover. Finally, McCoy investigates a Scottish nationalist movement, which turns out to be abetted by Britain's clandestine Special Branch for its own nefarious purposes. Tightly plotted and fast-moving, this well-wrought historical thriller also highlights Parks's keen analysis of Scotland's societal traumas, in particular the failure to cope with domestic violence and child abuse. Tartan noir fans won't want to miss this one. Agent: Isobel Dixon, Blake Friedmann Literary (U.K.). (Aug.)

Overworked Scottish cops probe a strange series of bombings in the mean streets of Glasgow. April 12, 1974. Detective Harry McCoy and partner Douglas Watson are called to a flat where a "stupid bugger" has blown himself up trying to make a bomb. The bloody crime scene wreaks havoc with McCoy's weak stomach. Though he's only 32, the righteous McCoy suffers from a peptic ulcer. Wattie is struggling to adjust to family life: His girlfriend, Mary, a former reporter, has limited patience with his failure to embrace his parenting responsibilities for Duggie, their new baby. Then Andrew Stewart, an American, buttonholes McCoy at the local pub and tries to enlist his help in finding his son, Donny, who's gone AWOL from the U.S. Navy base, but McCoy says he can't help him; the next morning, though, Stewart talks his way into going along with McCoy on a road trip to Aberdeen to pick up crime boss Stevie Cooper, just released from prison, whose friendship McCoy leverages to obtain valuable info. Their colorful jaunt is cut short by another bombing, this time of a cathedral. Then Cooper becomes the prime suspect in a murder, driving a temporary wedge between Wattie and McCoy. Parks depicts 1970s Glasgow with depth, scope, and authenticity. The pace is deliberate, but the lean, muscular prose is matched by a deep dive into character and the seamy side of the city. When evidence identifies Donny Stewart as a person of interest in the bombings, his absence makes him look guiltier. Links to Northern Ireland hint at a much larger operation and more bombings in the offing. A full-bodied immersion into Glasgow's gritty past. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.