A Galway Epiphany by Ken Bruen

Night watchman has his routine. Makes his checks. Logs them in. Sits down for a snack. Maybe a snooze. Until he feels a cool liquid being poured over him. Smells a lot like . . . Gasoline . . . and then a stranger strikes a match.

Father Malachy is in line to become the next Bishop in Galway. But he can’t be declared until the Vatican rules on a strange happening – a statue of Mary has been said to be crying – and the Vatican isn’t ready to use “m” word just yet.

Crowds gather around the statue day and night. But it’s not until a 2^nd ‘miracle’ happens. A man has been struck by a truck on the street in front of the statue. Three kids/teenagers amongst the crowd peel off and attend to the victim in the street. The crowd watches as the man, out cold, miraculously has not a scratch on him. Paramedics arrive. He’s still unconscious. In a coma actually. They take the man to the hospital where he lies in a coma for about 2-3 weeks. In the meantime, he’s been identified . . .

Jack Taylor

Former Guardia officer, sometime private investigator, lover of modern literature and music . . .  and nearly full-time drunk and drug abuser. A guy who seems to be a focal point for bad events occurring to his friends. A good beating and death are Jack’s roommates.

Jack’s been living, of you call it that, with his pet falcon on the farm of a friend (who came to his aid in Bruen’s previous book, Galway Girl). Keefer is a former roadie with the Rolling Stones who inherited the farm and managed to be an OK day trader. Jack’s reputation still gets him some PI-types of jobs . . . find those miracle kids, track down the arsonist, take out his own worthless life choices on an abusive husband, locate the killer of another wife, figure out who is slitting throats across Galway. On top of all that, a priest wants to end it all but can’t because suicide is a mortal sin and asks Jack to kill him. Guess God doesn't view murder’s quite as bad as suicide. God keeps track. All without getting in his own way with the Church, the Guardia, his favorite pubs, and what few friends he hasn’t managed to offend and kick him to the curb.

But what of his life after he wraps all that up all of that in a pretty bow? What’s it get him? I’ll not tell you other than I audibly gasped . . .

For reasons I can’t express, I’d kind of let Bruen slip off my radar. And that’s unfortunate. Extremely. Bruen is a writer of extreme talent but remains a bit of an acquired taste. His books are all dark. Make that exceedingly dark. Tales of the downtrodden, be it Taylor or other, being quashed by Galway or life or their own personal maladies. One of the first books of his, Once Were Cops, scared the ever loving crap out of me. His prose is sparse and presented in machine gun rapidity. Taylor is not your routine idealistic PI. Nor is he admirable. He’s pretty much a degenerate slug who still has some fleeting sense of justice. Holdover from his Guardia days I suspect.

You can find a short 3-season story arc for Jack Taylor on Prime Videos with Iain Glen taking on the difficult role and giving Taylor a look and voice to take with you every time you open A Jack Taylor book. And you know who Glen is if you can’t place his name and face. He played Jorah Mormontin Game of Thrones. He is a helluva a Jack Taylor. Sure wish that series would come back. I thought it was terrific. 

Can’t recall the last Bruen book I read, but having sort of rediscovered him, it won’t be long before I’m back.

 

East Coast Don