The shadow of Inspector Morse overhangs the landscape of British detective fiction. Morse may have been the most successful English mystery protagonist since Sherlock Holmes. I have a suspicion that the thirst for a new Morse may be behind H. L. Marsay’s creation of Inspector John Shadow of York, whose first adventure is A Long Shadow. Shadow does crossword puzzles (though he doesn’t seem to ever finish them). He listens only to old music (though it’s 20th Century standards, not opera). He grumps at his younger partner. He’s not Morse’s clone, but he seems related.
One cold night a young homeless woman dies on a street in York. The very same day a skeleton is uncovered by an excavation crew – a murder victim from more than 30 years ago. And soon more homeless turn up dead – all poisoned by cyanide in vodka. Inspector Shadow has an intuition that the present-day murders have some connection to the old one. But who has a motive? The business owners who want the homeless people cleared out? Drug dealers? Some psychopath?
I have to tell you I figured out who the murderer was fairly early on – and I’m not all that good at solving these things. The author needs to work on her (she’s a she) red herring skills. But I liked Inspector Shadow himself, and enjoyed the reading experience. York is an interesting historical city, so I appreciated the setting too. I went ahead and bought the sequel, A Viking’s Shadow, for reasons too obvious to explain.
A Long Shadow doesn’t get my highest recommendation, but it wasn’t bad. I don’t recall the language being too foul.