It’s early days here, but already the whisky fumes and clouds of nicotine-scented smoke permeate from the pages. So the bare bones of the character are there but, like with any 30-year-old friendship, we’ve learned a lot more about Rebus as the years have progressed.

Like Harry Bosch, he loves jazz (in later books, Rebus is transformed into a rock fan), and he is surprisingly well read. There’s no sign of the Oxford Bar and Rebus is living in Marchmont.

On the 30th anniversary of its publication, it’s wonderful to dive deep into Knots & Crosses once again and marvel at how far the man and his creator have come. But (spoiler alert) he didn’t – and the rest is history. In fact, at one point Rankin even toyed with the idea of killing him off in Knots & Crosses. You see, Rebus was originally conceived as a one-off. Yes, John Rebus and his devoted fans go back a long, long way, although even his creator, Ian Rankin, seems a little taken aback at the staying power of one of crime fiction’s most popular characters. We’ve been together now for 30 years, and it doesn’t seem a day too much. Stalking a poisoner at the local zoo, Inspector John Rebus comes across a paedophile taking pictures of children.First edition front cover of Knots & Crosses Not only is he on the trail of a WWII war criminal- he's also become entangled in a dangerous battle between two rival gangs. In the 1960s, the infamous Bible John terrorised Scotland when he murdered three women, taking three souvenirs.ĭI John Rebus is hard at work on multiple cases.

Struggling through another Edinburgh winter Rebus finds himself sucked into a web of intrigue that throws up more questions than answers. When a close colleague is brutally attacked, Inspector John Rebus is drawn into a case involving a hotel fire, an unidentified body.Ī brutally tortured body is discovered in one of the city's ancient subterranean streets and marks on the corpse cause Rebus. Gregor Jack, MP, well-liked, young, married to the fiery Elizabeth - to the outside world a very public success story. They call him the Wolfman - because he takes a bite out of his victims and because they found the first victim in the East End's lonely Wolf Street. And now a third is missing, presumably gone to the same sad end.Ī junkie lies dead in an Edinburgh squat, spreadeagled, cross-like on the floor, between two burned-down candles, a five-pointed star daubed on the wall. 'That sort of thing' is the brutal abduction and murder of two young girls.

Knots and crosses rebus