The second half of the novel gathers momentum as parallel storylines in Dublin and Boston finally merge, but the multiple viewpoints used throughout this book tend to distract and dilute the power of Quirke’s own demons lurking so close to the surface. The many secondary characters drop in and out, some less frequently than others, and the reader is often apprised of information before Quirke discovers it himself, which may delight some readers but infuriate others trying to solve the mystery along with the protagonist.

Like a split screen, the two locations and separate plotlines finally converge, crashing into each other and hurtling toward the climax. Violence is delivered in an almost poetic manner through graphic prose that shocks as it winds in and out of the pages with breathtaking speed. Banville’s strengths not only lie in his unforgettable backdrops but in his ability to lull the reader into a false sense of security with his descriptions of the mundane - and then delivering an unexpectedly graceful ballet of cruelty that shocks even though it appears inevitable.

The two thugs in Dublin who murder one character and partially cripple Banfield’s protagonist are so finely drawn, they fairly leap off the pages. After the action shifts to Boston, Banville carefully peels layer after layer from the veneer covering the brutish and despicable chauffer, Andy Stafford, revealing him as a pathological and emotionally bereft sadist who drives far more than the family car. Stafford provides the catalyst for the climax, which exposes the real villain in a baby-farming scheme and leaves Quirke with more to deal with in his private life than wrapping up his first case as an amateur detective.

Banville’s reputation has been earned with novels, and writing a mystery series with Quirke at the helm will be an interesting challenge.