I hated this book. At least fifteen people must have recommended Rankin to me, but I found the prose sludgy and the plot generally uninteresting, and, as in other of his books, hard to keep track of. He has a formula he doesn't seem to deviate from: an interesting murder (usually) is described and after that, the characters, who are really stock figures, set about figuring out what happened while doom and gloom swirls about Edinburgh. He uses the trick of trying to make the main character sympathetic by making him a maverick while the other benighted police personnel fail to understand his superior ability. So do I. He seems barely human.
His books tend to be quite long. After reading two of them, and realizing I could have reread Proust's Remembrance of Things Past, or Alice in Wonderland, or just about anything, I was completely fed up with myself for having wasted the time. I lent the book to someone else who said it wasn't as terrible as I thought it was but he wouldn't read another book of his. Why all the fuss?