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It takes a lot to rattle Jack Irish but, as Melbourne descends into a cold, wet winter, his mood is on the same trajectory. The woman in Jack’s life has reconnected with an old love-object. He has just seen a massive plunge lost, a champion horse put down. Worst of all, hijackers have robbed and brutally beaten one of the gambling team.
So it’s not surprising that Jack’s mind is not fully on the job he’s being paid to do: find Robbie Colburne, occasional barman. But when Jack does get serious, he finds that the freelance drink-dispenser is of great interest to some powerful people, people with very bad habits and a distinct lack of respect for the criminal justice system.
Any lapse in concentration could prove fatal.
‘Another world-class crime novel from Peter Temple.’
‘Temple writes…with enough insight and passion to make the reader ask exactly where the boundary lies between genre fiction and serious literary fiction.’
‘Temple is as dark and mean, as cool and as mesmerising, as any James Ellroy or Elmore Leonard with whom you might kill the small or sad hours.‘
‘Temple’s work is spare, deeply ironic; his wit, like the local beer, as cold as a dental anaesthetic.’
‘It’s clever, funny, exciting and exceedingly well written. The author weaves multi layers of plot, life, characters and emotions into an exceedingly satisfying narrative that grips from first to last page. If you haven’t yet discovered Temple, track down his books. He’s premier class.’
‘Temple is as adept at enlivening crime fiction with unusual details as he is at turning the same old stuff into something new.’