Returning to the church, Gareth made his way back inside, through the paneled porch, and was aware immediately of the smell of the building, the tang of cold stone mixing with the sweet scent of varnished wood, of candles and books and history. He breathed deep, secretly hoping to take in some of the ancient peace that he always sensed buildings like this contained, as though they somehow saved up humanity’s prayers, acting as great spiritual batteries where people could go to be recharged somewhere.

In the previous five books of David J. Gatward’s Harry Grimm series, we have seen how Inspector Grimm transferred from Bristol to the idyllic Wensleydale area of Yorkshire. A hulking, facially scarred veteran paratrooper, Harry was prepared to experience (and exploit) the natural fear he inspires in most people. But the easygoing crew in the town of Hawes resolutely refused to be intimidated by him. They welcomed him into their circle and their community, and he’s beginning to enjoy the life – and even the food. Death’s Requiem picks up the story during the worst snowstorm in years.

The nearby town of Askrig is the home of an internationally famous pop singer, Gareth Jones, who recorded “that Christmas song – you remember.” Following the death of his wife and a scandal that marred his clean public image, he has chosen to launch his new album with a concert in the church, where he used to be a choir boy. All his old friends gather for the concert, as well as a standing-room-only crowd of other locals. The concert is disrupted at one point by intruders dressed as Satanists, but they are soon gotten rid of. Otherwise, the concert is a triumph.

But the next morning, the female vicar finds a body hanging from a bell rope in the tower, surrounded by Satanic graffiti on the walls. Inspector Grimm and his team will need to untangle old relationships and long-buried secrets to solve the case and avert further murders.

The Grimm books are reliably enjoyable, and Death’s Requiem was no exception. My only problem with it was that it raised a familiar issue – it seems as if every form of entertainment is required to supply a minimum quota of homosexual characters today. In most cases, the creators choose to make them lesbians, because lesbians are less icky to many readers. That is the case in this book – and it’s mixed up with the issue of homosexuals in the church.

But I suppose I should be grateful anytime the church gets any positive mention at all.