A pleasantly twisted police procedural set in the Peak District of England. If you have any inkling you might read this book, I suggest you to read none of the reviews or summaries readily available—including this one—because they will diminish your reading pleasure.
If you’re still with me, I said the preceding because I did read some of those reviews and they spoiled the story for me. Since you won’t be reading the book or you wouldn’t be reading this (you are following my advice, aren’t you?), I’ll tell you why. Booth writes with the classic nineteenth-century omniscient narrator style, which take the reader deep into the thoughts and feelings of each character. He does it well. More important, we find ourselves overhearing the thoughts of several characters about each other. And, of course, they’re wrong. Oh, Booth doesn’t tell us; he shows us.
I don’t normally read police procedurals, but I enjoyed the storytelling of this one. Perhaps you will, too, but you won’t know I said that because you’ve already stopped reading this review, didn’t you?