Cleeves’ books are consistently absorbing and somehow comforting, like a nice cup of tea. This is the the third in the Vera Stanhope series, and you just know Vera’s going to get her (muderous) man. The books are a quiet study of human nature: detective inspector Vera is badly dressed, overweight, often drunk and consistently mistaken for a homeless person. As such she is routinely underestimated. She’s actually a very smart judge of human nature and rarely comes away from a cup of tea/whiskey without having formed an accurate impression of someone. She’s also disarmingly human: wracked by sadness about the loss of her chances to meet a man who cares about her, to have a child. You just want to sit down and have a good chat with her over a beer or two (or ten, for Vera). Fainting that, a good read of this double murder mystery will have to do.
