I've read all of Ian Rankin's Inspector Rebus tales. Thus, I've spent many hours with John Rebus, and his deep, dark, intensity. His world of pain and loss is usually Edinburgh where the city becomes a living being as conscious and present as Rebus himself-and the shadows that fill his life. In Tooth and Nail, we are thrust with Rebus into an alien land, London, and much more into the alien mind of the murderer. The insanity within the serial killer is disconcerting, creating anixity within us as we read the words. No longer are we curled up with a good book reading about paper characters. We become no more safe from the demons of imagination than the do victims in the novel. But Mr. Rankin not only chills us, he saves us, at least for the moment. I could not bear such unease if it wasn't for the realization that Inspector Rebus will succeed in the end, at least enough for me to sleep without nightmares . . bravo, Mr. Rankin. You are an artist.