This cozy British mystery is Book Eleven in the Ruth Galloway series. I’ve read them all and always look forward to the next. This was better than most as it hearkens back to the very first Ruth Galloway mystery—The Crossing Places.
Back in England, after their Italy misadventure, Nelson is awaiting the birth of the mystery baby—might be his, might not—as are we. After all, Michelle’s shocking pregnancy is what blew up Nelson and Ruth’s plans to get together at the end of the last book. Like us, Ruth thinks they might never get together. She’s back teaching at the University of North Norfolk and dating Frank. Sort of. Her heart’s not in it. Precocious Kate is now seven years old and it’s comforting to see Ginger Flint curled up in her bed.
In this story, DCI Nelson and his King’s Lynn team solve a thirty-year-old cold case—the tragic disappearance of a twelve-year-old girl. Margaret Lacey had last been seen at a street party celebrating Charles and Diana’s wedding in July 1981. Now her remains turn up at one of Ruth’s archaeological digs on the Salt Marsh, near a cist containing the bones of a sixteen-year-old Bronze Age girl. One ancient, one contemporary, the girls’ remains bring Ruth and Nelson back together.
They both receive cryptic letters in the beginning of this story that are reminiscent of those written by Erik Anderssen, Ruth’s Norwegian professor and mentor who drowned in the Salt Marshes. But, if Erik’s dead, who’s writing letters that harken back twenty years to the disappearance of Lucy Downey (Book One) when this all began? The thing is, I read this book carefully and took notes and I still don’t know for certain who wrote those letters. It seems a stone left unturned. I have a suspicion, but it wasn’t made clear enough, for me at least. If you saw a line written somewhere, please quote it in the comments. I hate missing things like that.
This book introduces us to a new character, a sort of sexy Alex Skarsgaard. Think True Blood, Season One. Leif Anderssen turns out to be Erik’s son. Like his father, he’s suave and handsome, a lady’s man and a little scary—a salty blond herring in this archaeological soup. An old friend of Cathbad’s, Leif is also a love interest for Laura, one of Nelson’s daughters.
While Nelson’s team are trying to solve Margaret Lacey’s cold case, an elderly hoarder is murdered, a man suspected in her disappearance. And to complicate things, a twenty-four-day old baby is stolen from her cot. Margaret Lacey’s niece.
Yes, Elly Griffiths knows how to complicate a mystery with a cast of eccentric relatives and neighbours, who all have their own agendas. It’s all quite incestual. At one point, Nelson’s daughter Laura is living with Leif, who she met at Cathbad’s meditation class. The roots on this mind-map furl out like Yggdrasil. Also, in this book, Nelson finally comes clean with his daughters and admits that seven-year-old Katie (Ruth’s kid) is actually his.
I’m a little disappointed that Cathbad has lost some of his druidic charm in this story. He’s more stay-at-home dad than druid, which is sad because that’s his lure. His wife, DS Judy Johnson has stepped up, though, and seems to be Nelson’s right hand, though Tanya and Cloughie are still part of the team.
The climax isn’t quite as thrilling as some of the Ruth Galloway mysteries that gallop on suspensefully for pages and pages. And the reveal of John Mostyn’s murderer is a little too quick and matter-of-fact. What? Really? The newborn baby who disappeared and the twelve-year-old girl murdered twenty years in the past seem to take precedence over this poor elderly man who loved stones and was shot in the head. I feel bad for him.
And in the end, we’re left, not so much with a cliff-hanger, but with the tide going out again on Ruth and Nelson. We’ll have to wait and see if a full moon can draw it back into the Salt Marsh once again.  Â
