Still Rankin Highly

By DAVID LEWIS

‘The girl screamed once, only once’.

I didn’t even have to look it up: the opening line in Ian Rankin’s first John Rebus story. Twenty years ago. For some inexplicable reason, it stuck in the mind. Now, our canny, alcoholic, depressed, insomniac (don’t forget maverick) of a detective is ready to hand in his badge, after years of dedicated, 24 hours a day, seven days a week, service to Lothian and Borders Police.

What will they do without him?

That pioneering gambit is, I am reliably informed, the first line in the last Rebus story, too.

At least, in what we are told is the last Rebus story.

Exit Music, named after an album by Scots singer-songwriter Stephen Lindsay, is published on September 6 and probably by as early as that afternoon, legions of the notoriously quickfire (try attending one of his signings a couple of days after a book launch and you’ll struggle to find someone who hasn’t already battered through from cover to cover) hardcore Rebus readership will be wishing their detective hero a happy retirement.

But gliding off into the sunset to enjoy his senior years just isn’t Rebus’s style. Don’t expect his creator and master Rankin to allow him to waltz off merrily, all the loose ends in his unhappy life harmonically tied up.

In the build up to Exit Music’s launch, Rankin has teased – possibly tormented – his fans with possible outcomes as Rebus retires. His page at Last.FM features a video of Rankin supposedly typing the closing sentences to 20 years of detective drama.

It’s a happy ending as his sadistically-loyal sidekick Siobhan plants a smacker on his lips. But wait, Rankin hurriedly deletes the text and suddenly, Rebus’s arch-enemy, Big Ger Cafferty, is plunging a knife “two-inches deep” into our hero’s chest, as “blood bubbles” from the notorious gangster’s own mouth.

“And we’ll all go together,” Cafferty hisses.

Either conclusion would be too obvious and Rankin no doubt has a few surprises up his sleeve as Rebus closes the door to Fettes Police HQ behind him for the very last time. In an exclusive question and answer session with Pulp Pusher, Rankin says he tried to avoid sentimentally tying up the many loose threads in Rebus’s life. Instead, we follow his last ten days on the force as he “just does his job”.

A finer tribute Rankin couldn’t have afforded.

DAVID LEWIS: It’s the obvious question you’ll be asked a million times in the next few weeks, but how did it feel retiring Scotland’s most famous detective?

IAN RANKIN: I'd felt for a while that 2007's book would be Rebus's retirement novel. He was 40 in 1987 (Knots and Crosses), so it made sense that he's 60 now. Having said that, I decided to treat Exit Music as 'just another case'. By which I mean: instead of trying to tie up all the loose ends or reintroducing characters such as his daughter and ex-wife for the finale, I decided Rebus himself would spend his last 10 days on the force just doing the job.

DL: What can you tell us about Exit Music?

IR: Exit Music involves the mugging/murder of a Russian dissident poet, at a time when a delegation of Russian businessmen has hit town. These men are being courted by the SNP and the Labour administration (the book is set in Nov/Dec 2006 - six months prior to the Scottish election). I'm looking at where Scotland might be headed in the future. Rebus however is more concerned with finding the killer, as well as locking horns once more with his old adversary, Cafferty.

DL: Did you get tons of suggestions from readers and people around you how to end Exit Music?

IR: The only suggestions I got were - don't kill Rebus! A few people wanted him to fall into bed with Siobhan. My wife felt he should end up in hospital as a result of his disastrous diet and alcohol intake over the past 20 years.

DL: What was the first thing you did when you wrote the last sentence?

IR: I honestly don't remember writing the last sentence. I think I was in a daze.

Plus, the final sentence ended up being rewritten several times as I thought of

more and more stuff I wanted to add to the closing scene. Then my editor made

a few suggestions and it got tweaked again.

DL: So what’s the plan now?

IR: The plan now is: libretto for 15-minute opera (for a Scottish Opera project); graphic novel for DC Comics in the USA; beefing up the New York Times serial that was published recently, so as to make it a fuller-length novel; then two more novels which I've signed up to write for my UK publisher (Orion). I’ve no idea as yet what they'll be about. Plenty to keep me busy...

DL: I know your Jack Harvey (Rankin’s alter-ego) books have done well, but how big a challenge will it be for you to keep your readership on board with new main characters?

IR: I don't know yet whether it'll be hard to write about new characters in new situations. I enjoyed writing the New York Times thing. It was 110 pages, and was a heist set in Edinburgh, with a cop involved but nothing like Rebus.

DL: I remember you once saying that you’ve never watched the Rebus TV adaptations. Do you have them all on tape and are you going to sit and watch them on all on September 6th?

IR: Good question. Maybe I'll feel able to watch the new series when it starts in the autumn.

DL: If that’s not your plan for September 6th, while your readers will be busy discovering what happens to Rebus, what will you be doing?

IR: Soon as the new book comes out, I hit the road - UK tour, then Canada, then Spain, then Dubai, Australia and New Zealand and then Germany - all before the end of the year. Plenty of carbon footprint guilt there, only slightly ameliorated by the fact that I always spend my summer hols here in Scotland.

DL: You’ve always been fascinated with Edinburgh’s great literary past, haven’t you? How does it feel to actually be part of that? Chances are regular people around the city now know more about your work than, say, someone like Sir Walter Scott. Can you describe that feeling?

IR: I feel part of a continuum of Scottish storytellers and fabulists. If you talk to Scottish crime writers, many of them will talk about the influence of Hogg (Justified Sinner) and Stevenson (Jekyll and Hyde) - more so than the likes of Christie and Chandler. Scottish crime fiction seems to belong to a different tradition than other nations' crime fiction, in that we have been influenced by a very different series of books.

DL: Why did you never give a physical description of Rebus? And do you actually have an image of him in your own head?

IR: I have no idea what Rebus looks like. I think I once described his hair colour and eyes, but really, when I'm reading a book I like to paint my own version of the characters, and I allow my own readers to do the same thing.

DL: I think you once said you’d originally planned to kill Rebus off at the end of Knots and Crosses (the first Rebus novel). Do you ever wonder how different the last 20 years might have been for you if you’d gone through with it?

IR: If I'd killed off Rebus at the end of book one, things would have remained much the same to start with in that I would still have written Watchman and Westwind (Non-Rebus novels published after Knots and Crosses). Probably I'd have invented another Edinburgh cop thereafter, or used his sidekick from that first book. Maybe I'd have become a success; maybe I wouldn't.

DL: A lot of the work published on Pulp Pusher is by aspiring young crime writers. Any advice for us?

IR: Advice for aspiring crime writers: get lucky, be persistent, be open to constructive criticism. I served a long apprenticeship before success struck. It was book eleven or twelve (meaning Rebus book eight or nine) before I could get a mortgage on a flat.

DL: Musical references play such a big part in the Rebus stories. What are you listening to right now?

IR: Music right now: rough tapes of the next St Jude's Infirmary album for which I have written some lyrics. Steven Lindsay's second album, the follow-up to an album called Exit Music -good title. A John Cale live 2-CD set. Mainly, having been given a USB record deck, I am busy downloading my collection of 45rpm singles onto my hard drive, plus all those old jazz albums that don't seem to be available on CD. Bliss.

DL: Rebus has become so famous that it must be a big responsibility controlling his every move. He can’t do anything without your say-so. Is that pretty damn scary?

IR: If I ever feel that Rebus is in danger of becoming too famous or ubiquitous, I just look at that Harry Potter fellow, and humility is restored.