THE PRICE OF BLOOD is the third book from Declan Hughes, the man who writes nothing but feel-good Irish crime stories … if you think “feel-good” means gut-wrenching and skin-crawling. Again, Hughes paints such a picture — such a disturbing picture — that you can’t tear yourself away from it, no matter how close to the bone the story gets.
Returning from THE COLOR OF BLOOD is P.I. Ed Loy, thrown into a case that would make Lew Archer envious: dealing with priest Vincent Tyrell asking for help in the search of a man named Patrick Hutton, a former jockey who also happened to race for Vincent’s brother F.X., the big man of racing in these parts.
But all Ed is told is Patrick’s name — and nothing else, like why Vincent wants him found. Ed finds out after a little looking that Patrick’s former wife Miranda once had a detective investigating with no luck, since the detective also just went missing. When Ed explains who is paying for this latest search, it sets Miranda on a rage.
The hunt for Patrick is only the impetus of a much larger picture, with Ed making a gruesome discovery of a former policeman killed with his tongue cut out and a bizarre symbol found nearby — only the start of the bodies turning up in this quaint little story.
Hughes maneuvers the readers through one gut punch of a finding after another, making you want to delve further and then clean yourself off with a steel brush afterward. No one comes off clean in this novel of family secrets and webs of lies — including you. When the final climax approaches, you’re all set to think one thing was about to happen, only for Hughes to switch gears and deliver an unexpected jolt.
So if you’re sick of crime stories so nice and proper being all tied up in a pretty bow, take a severely dark ride through Dublin with a noir tour guide who’s giving others a run for their money. –Bruce Grossman
OTHER BOOKGASM REVIEWS OF THIS AUTHOR:
• THE COLOR OF BLOOD by Declan Hughes
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