A baby chewing on a human rib bone leads to the discovery of a skeleton in a housing construction site. Which leads Erlendur Sveinsson, Detective Inspector with the Reyjavik Iceland Police to wonder why there are red currant bushes planted in a row close by. Further inquiries and questionings uncover an old crime, complicated by the installation of the US Army during WWII, and a long-dead romance. The murky atmosphere of Indriđason’s narrative is enlivened by his nuanced descriptions of the characters encountered during the investigation, and his uncomfortable if not tragic relationship with his only daughter, an on -again, off -again drug addict.
The whole premise sounds ungodly gloomy, but oddly it’s not—the main, ongoing characters have definite personalities, while the incidental characters have lives of their own—they seem to have been interrupted only briefly by Erlendur’s probing, and carry on without too much difficulty. I love this series for the sharp characterizations, and the intriguing back stories, violent though they may be.