Fleshmarket Alley by Ian Rankin. Little, Brown & Co., 2005. $22.95 — 432 pp.

Several weeks go, I read an article in the New York Times that raved about a new writer, Ian Rankin, who had acquired a remarkable reputation in Europe. In less than a year, he has become known as the “tartan noir” author — a title that refers to Rankin’s nationality (Scot) and his chosen literary genre (murder mysteries).

This unique combination tweaked my curiosity, so the following day I asked “Ran” Randolph, the owner of Cyrano’s Bookstore in Highlands, if he had any Rankin. Ran pointed at a colorful display immediately in front of me and commented in his best Bobbie Burns, “Kin ye no see, Carden?”

I think I counted 12 titles, including the current best-seller, Fleshmarket Alley. When I commented on Rankin’s productivity, I was told that he had 16 titles in all. In addition, I learned that Ian Rankin was the most popular author in Highlands, N. C. “Even Jonathan Williams is reading him,” said Ran. Well, with a recommendation like that, I immediately purchased four books and skulked home to find out what everyone else seemed to know already: What is so wonderful about Rankin, and who the hell is Inspector John Rebus?

Well, to answer my own question, Rebus is the morose, taciturn (and possibly suicidal) protagonist of the Rankin series, and a more unlikely hero does not grace the pages of popular literature. In many ways, Rebus is the bane of the Edinburgh police department where his “superiors” grudgingly concede that he is a dedicated officer, but his lack of tact and/or diplomacy make him unpopular with both supervisors and co-workers.

The singular exception is officer DS Siobhan (pronounced “Shi-vawn) Clarke, a fetching young woman who remains the older man’s steadfast companion, confidante and defender. Siobhan frets about Rebus’ excessive drinking and vainly attempts to change his lifestyle (chain-smoking, tavern-hopping, fast food binges) but usually ends up as an accomplice, matching him drink-for-drink. They share a love of heavy metal bands, American movies and trivia. (So far, this unlikely couple has not become lovers.)

For me, the world of John Rebus is mesmerizing. As he speeds through the streets of Edinburgh (often in a taxi) or stalks the dark alleys of New Town, the reader encounters a culture that is exotic, raw and surreal. The past wars with the present as taverns, chip shops and lap-dancing clubs nestle cheek-to-jowl with historic edifices and cobbled pavement. Like American law enforcement, Edinburgh struggles to cope with drugs, child molestation and violence. However, in Scotland there is a bitter, abiding anger that lurks beneath the city’s daily life. Frequently, both criminals and victims view law enforcement as the enemy, and the long-range consequences create a kind of hopelessness that takes a heavy toll — especially on an aging warrior like John Rebus.

I have now read my four John Rebus novels, and I am addicted. At first, Rebus irritated me. He is deeply flawed and occasionally he commits acts that are unwittingly harmful to others. Yet, he is always “redeemed” because he comes to perceive his mistakes. His perversity and bitter wit are delightful, even when they are cruel. Eventually, his most infuriating characteristic (his secrecy) seems justified. It is a “survival technique,” and it works. Indeed, I find DS Siobhan Clarkse’s devotion to this sarcastic old curmudgeon touching and totally justified. In fact, when Rebus finally retires, I think that the least she could do is “stay over’ for the night.

(Gary Carden is a writer, storyteller and lecturer whose book, Mason Jars in the Flood, was recently named Book of the Year by the Appalachian Writers Association. He can be reached at gcarden498@aol.com.)