Three paths through the snow converge.
Det. Supt. Henry Christie of the Lancashire Constabulary Force Major Investigation Team and his friend, FBI agent Karl Donaldson, working as a legal attaché out of the U.S. embassy in London, decide on a walking holiday on the moors. Steve Flynn, who left Christie’s team under a cloud and relocated to the Caribbean as a fishing guide, heads back to Britain when his former lover Cathy calls for help, telling him she suspects that her husband Tom is a bent copper. Jonny Cain, a drug dealer ensconced in Mallowdale House, who fends off rivals by siccing a carnivorous cat on them if they trespass on his remote estate, knows a few underlings who must be taught a lesson. Donaldson falls ill, Henry finds a body, Steve can’t locate Cathy and Jonny is hounded by an assassin. Snow incapacitates them all, and they can barely find their way to the Tawny Owl, a small pub that lets out rooms. As Donaldson retires to the WC to recuperate, Christie and Steve, despite their mistrust, work together to find out exactly what Cathy and Tom have been up to. They’ll need to enlist the aid of pub regulars and Alison the proprietor to Medivac a victim or two, deflect roaming hit men from their target and deal with the snow that’s isolated them. Suddenly, criminals are plentiful as snowflakes and lethal as falling icicles. And the local pastime of the village of Kendleton seems to be murder committed to the tune of a wild cat gnashing its teeth.
Oldham (Seizure, 2010, etc.) carves out a new niche: the noir procedural with cozy trimmings. Bolt the door, warm up the teapot and settle in for a unique read.