BROWN SHOES DON'T MAKE IT SAID INSPECTOR REBUS | FEAT. IAN RANKIN


He was sitting in the interview room, and he was nervous. Rebus stood against one wall, arms folded, examining the scuffed toes of his black Dr Martens shoes. He’d only bought them three weeks ago. They were hardly broken in - the tough leather heel - pieces had rubbed his ankles into raw blisters - and already he’d managed to scuff the toes. He knew how he’d done it too: kicking stones as he’d come out of June Redwood’s block of flats. Kicking stones for joy. That would teach him not to be exuberant in future. It wasn’t good for your shoes.
Ian Rankin
From: In The Frame (Short story from: Beggars Banquet - Orion Books, 2002)

The Grit
S/T (Murdermile Music, 2004)


A training shoe caught Rebus on the chin and sent him flying. He was concentrating on not losing consciousness, so much so that he forgot to fight or to scream or to defend himself …

The side of his head, jaw and ear, were red and would probably bruise. The jaw would ache for some time. Where the shoe had connected, there was already a red and purple welt. Nothing more. Nothing worse. No knives or razor blades'. No massed, assault. It had been a clean, professional hit.

He rubbed his jaw. It felt worse than it looked. There was a pale mustard bruise down one cheek and a graze on his chin. Good thing training shoes were all the rage. In the early 70s it would have been a steel-capped Airwear boot and he would not have been so chipper.
Ian Rankin
From: Tooth And Nail (Century, 1992)

DOC's At Bogeys | London
Source: Haute Macabre


There was a different bouncer on the door at Burke’s Club, and Rebus paid his entrance money the same as everybody else. Inside, it was seventies night, with prizes for the best period costume. Rebus watched the parade of platform shoes, Oxford bags, midis and maxis, kipper ties. Nightmare stuff: it all reminded him of his wedding photos. There was a Saturday Night Fever John Travolta, and a girl who was doing a passable imitation of Jodie Foster in Taxi Driver.
Ian Rankin
From: Black And Blue (Orion Books, 1993)

Slade
Get Yer Boots On (Best Of) - Shout! Factory, 2004


‘I’ve been offered a few of those in my time,’ the barman mused. ‘Something I noticed about all the Russian gentlemen - nice watches. Tailored suits, too. But their shoes look cheap; I can never understand that. People should take better care of their feet.’ He decided Rebus merited an explanation. ‘My girlfriend’s a chiropodist.'
Ian Rankin
From: Exit Music (Orion Books, 2007)

VV.AA.
Shoes (Kent Records, 1984)

‘You know that in my shoes you’d be considering the selfsame hypotheses.’
‘I wouldn’t be in your shoes, though.’
Fox’s eyes narrowed. ‘Why not?’
Rebus glanced down at Fox’s footwear of choice. ‘They’re brown,’ he stated. ‘One thing I learned from Uncle Frank . . .’
‘No brown shoes?’
‘No brown shoes,’ Rebus agreed.
‘And Uncle Frank is . . . ?’
‘Frank Zappa.’ Rebus saw the blank look on Fox’s face. ‘The musician.’
‘I hardly ever listen to music.’
‘That’s one more strike against you, then,’ Rebus stated with a slow shake of the head.
Ian Rankin
From: Saints Of The Shadow Bible (Orion Books, 2013)

Frank Zappa
The Man From Utopia - Drawing by Tanino Liberatore

Barking Pumpkin Records, 1983


 

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