Calibre -- Ken Bruen

Brant's back. That might be all you need to hear if you're a fan, like me. Naturally, however, I have a little more to say.

I like to think of Ken Bruen's books about the Southeast London police squad as his homage to the 87th Precinct books of Ed McBain, books much admired by Inspector Brant. Sort of the 87th Precinct on acid. Brant wants to write a book. The fact that he can't write doesn't bother him at all, and before long he's on the way to becoming a literary sensation. A serial killer, obsessed with Jim Thompson's novels, particuarly The Killer inside Me, is on the loose, offing people with bad manners. Falls' love life is in shambles (so what's new?). And the various other cops are screwing up in various other ways. In this series no crime ever gets solved by solid policework. It's luck, brutality, and snitches. That is, it's those things when the crimes are solved at all. It's impossible to describe a Bruen book. This one's violent, funny, poetic, and just plain fun to read. When it ends, you'll be eager to know what's next for Brant and the whole gang. Check it out.