The Edinburgh publishing phenomenon brings his withering cynicism to the Edinburgh police with this poisonous satiric novel, set in the mind of a monstrous, unprincipled, masonic detective, Bruce Robertson. Blithely ignoring a race-murder case, Robertson denigrates his workmates, abuses victims of crime, drinks copiously and snorts industrial amounts of cocaine (courtesy of a pal on the drugs squad). He also marches through women (even his colleagues' wives) despite a raw, stinking, genital eczema caused by a tapeworm. The ending rather loses the run of itself, as Robertson's mind unravels, but throughout, just when it seems outrageously over-the-top, another news story breaks of corrupt or kinky police, Scotland's anti-Catholic establishment, the Stephen Lawrence case, etc. Filth is disturbing, transgressive and often very funny -particularly if you've a strong stomach.