Going back to 1982, when you could get away with much more than you can some thirty years later, puts this book into almost the historical crime genre. For those unaware, Frost was Detective Inspector created by R.D. Wingfield and then subsequently made famous by national treasure David Jason on screen.

James Henry has picked up Frost, and taken us back to when he was a Detetcive Sergeant and almost gives us a particular background to him.

In this novel, Frost has just buried his wife.

We are at the wake, where everyone from Denton is gathered. Support from the police force.

Although one officer isn’t there, she is working. She has been summoned to a hand in a field. No body, just a hand.

Then a local businessman is shot.

And a painting goes missing.

It seems that Frost is not able to grieve at all. And the imitable Superintendent Mullet who is reluctant to tell Frost that he is to be promoted is very keen to get all of this solved.

This book for me was tightly plotted, and sticks faithful to the character of Frost with his random methods of extracting information and his ability to keep avoiding Mullett. His loyalty to his team is never in doubt and he does understand everyone and everything even if he does not give that impression. The dark witty humour is present and the bleakness of the time is paramount. The Nineteen Eighties are really a different time.

Plenty of twists and turns, before it is all wrapped up towards the end where the pace picks up to the dénouement. Perfect for fans of English police procedurals, especially as some references are specific to the UK.

I have tried to start this book several times, but have just not been able to get into it or finish it I'm afraid, so i will not be able to favourably review.