I've just started Birthdays for the Dead. So far, so good. It's everything you love about MacBride, but Loganless.
I'm fighting the urge to sack the domestic urgencies (ironing pile like K2, feral dust-bunnies, rancid salad swamp in fridge,etc) and curl up under a blanket reading the latest from the grim, beardy giggler.
The king of gallows humour and the safest pair of hands in crime fiction.