Jack Taylor

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I’m always asked in interviews where this odd, grizzled, grumpy PI Taylor came from.

He is the world’s worst detective. Cases get solved not because of him but despite him.

He’s

Alcoholic

Addict

Rude

Obnoxious

And in very bad shape

And yet… Forster’s famous words.

He gets the job done… somehow, and he so desperately wants to connect, even though he’d never admit it.

Only connect.

Jack does… usually when he least expects to.

His love of books has saved his sanity on so many occasions.

I said on a TV show recently, Jack hasn’t drunk for nigh on three books, and they laughed.

Uproariously.

They would.

Three books…

And not a drink.

For them a joke. For Jack, total hell.

And the reviews say Jack is mellowing.

Like fuck.

They ain’t seen Cross yet.

Or Benediction.

He’s only warming up.

He will bow out on the final book… titled… Amen.

And no one can utter those words with quite such conviction as Jack.

When the end comes, and come it will, no one will be happier than Jack.