At the Dying of the Year is the fifth book in Chris Nickson’s series of historical crime novels set in Leeds. I discovered this series last year, and am a bit of a fan – you can see all my previous reviews in the series here.

***WARNING: Contains mild spoilers for the previous books in the series***

I started my review of the previous book in the series, Come the Fear, by saying that it took “a darker turn” than the ones before it. Well, past-me, you ain’t seen nothing yet…

Leeds, 1733. Three children are found dead in a disused bell pit, their bodies battered and bruised, each of them stabbed through the heart. Fear, suspicion and violence tear at the city as Richard Nottingham, John Sedgwick and Rob Lister hunt a ruthless child-killer. The Constable is certain he knows who’s behind the murders, but his efforts to bring the killer to justice brings a blow that strikes right at his own heart.

Let me start by saying: my word, this book is bleak. Seriously bleak. If you like your historic crime nice and cosy and easily resolved, look elsewhere. From the start, it’s pretty clear that this book is showing us a more vulnerable side to Richard Nottingham, Constable of Leeds: whereas in previous books he’s always seemed pretty much in control, in this book you get a real sense of a man whose world is slipping away from him. Having been almost fatally stabbed at the end of the previous book, At the Dying of the Year sees him return to work, weakened and feeling his age, to be immediately confronted with several horrifically murdered children, and a murderer who may be beyond the reach of justice.

All the books in this series deal with the enormous gulf between the wealthy and the desperately poor at the time, but it is in this book that this division is emphasised most strongly. The poor are literally powerless, while the rich do as they please. It is also brought home just how precarious the Constable’s position is: as a man from a poor background, employed at the discretion of a mayor whose main priority will always be keeping the wealthy merchants of the city happy, his livelihood depends on pleasing those in power. If his job brings him into conflict with them, where can he turn?

This was a tough book to read. Without wanting to give any of the story away, Nottingham’s pursuit of the powerful comes at an incredibly high personal cost – leading to some things that really cut very close to the bone for me. However, I think it’s my favourite of the series so far. It’s harsh, and brutal, and doesn’t offer any easy answers, but I rather like that in a book!

Fortunately, it isn’t all unrelenting bleakness. Once again, Nickson’s rich cast of supporting characters do a wonderful job of fleshing out Nottingham’s world. I liked the passages featuring deputy John Sedgwick and his family, but mainly I loved everything about Nottingham’s daughter, Emily. She’s always been one of my favourite characters, and I was delighted to see more of her in this book! There’s a particularly lovely scene where she is at dinner with Rob Lister and his father, who’d previously voiced his disapproval of their courtship because of Emily and Nottingham’s impoverished background. Again, I don’t want to give too many details away, but this scene had me doing proper cheers in my head (only in my head, I was reading on the train!)

Nottingham’s relationship with his daughter is explored a little further in this book, leading to some lovely scenes between the two of them. I did think though that Nottingham seems a very liberal parent for the time – would a father at that period of history really have been so unconcerned that his daughter was “carrying on” with a man she’s been quite clear she has no intention of marrying?

This series just keeps getting better and better. If you haven’t read any of them so far, I would urge you to give this one a go – although I think starting from the first in the series is definitely the best way to read them all!

Verdict: 4/5

Come the Fear is the fourth book in Chris Nickson’s Richard Nottingham series of historical crime novels (previous books reviewed here). From the blurb:

March, 1733. Richard Nottingham, Constable of the City of Leeds, joins others trying desperately to put out a fire in an empty house before it destroys the entire street. The next morning, searching the blackened ruins, he finds the charred corpse of a girl, something placed on her chest. Had the fire been started to conceal her murder?

Starting with just a single clue, Nottingham his deputy John Sedgwick and Rob Lister slowly piece together the girl’s past, a journey that takes them into the camps of the homeless, the homes of rich merchants, down and the poor and those beyond hope, deep into the dark secrets and lies that families keep hidden.

This book takes a darker turn than the previous one, The Constant Lovers. It’s similar in tone and pace to the second book, Cold Cruel Winter – which was my favourite up until now! I absolutely loved this book. In my opinion, it’s the strongest of the series so far.

Warning: review contains spoilers for the previous books in the series.

The central mystery of the book – who was the girl in the fire, why was she killed, and why did the killer mutilate her in the way he did – is gripping in itself, with enough wrong turns and red herrings to keep me guessing up until the (horrifying) conclusion. But as with Chris Nickson’s earlier books, the murder isn’t really the point. The murder provides a framework for the interplay of the main and supporting characters – and it is in this area that the book really shines.

Family is a strong theme running throughout the book: the distraught family of the murdered girl; Richard Nottingham’s concerns over his daughter Emily’s happiness; deputy constable John Sedgwick’s running battles with his 5-year-old son who is running wild and jealous of his new baby sister; and new Constable’s man Rob Lister’s conflict with his father over his burgeoning romance with Emily. Add in a child-snatcher targeting children in Leeds and all of the Constable’s men’s fears for their families in the often precarious world they live in really come to the surface.

Speaking of Emily, I was thrilled to see her story given such prominence in this book. She is one of my favourite characters, and I very much enjoyed getting to see her asserting her independence once again! Although her attitude towards courtship and marriage is probably not typical for a young lady of this time period, it didn’t feel anachronistic. I understand there is another book planned for this series, so I’m looking forward to seeing if this causes any more conflict.

One thing that surprised me about this book was that there was so little mention of Amos Worthy, the pimp with an unexpected connection to Richard Nottingham whose (spoiler!) death at the end of the previous book looked set to tip the city into chaos as rival pimps and gangs fought to assert their dominance over areas Worthy had previously ruled with an iron fist. It’s mentioned near the start that the Constable is starting to see a bit of trouble from this direction, but nothing really comes up for the rest of the book. It’s understandable that this wasn’t brought up again, as frankly Nottingham seemed to have his hands full enough for the rest of the time, but it did surprise me a little.

As I said, this is certainly my favourite of the series so far. Tense, gripping, well-plotted and ultimately satisfying – and with a genuinely shocking ending that made me gasp out loud, earning me some very funny looks on the train! Can’t wait for the next one

Verdict: 4/5

—Exciting News—

The launch of Come the Fear will take place on 14 September at Arts@Trinity, and promises to be an exciting night! Sadly I can’t make it, as I’ll be in Cheltenham getting ready for the Winston’s Wish Sunrise Walk, but it sounds like a fab evening so, if you’re at all interested in Chris’ books, or Leeds, or crime fiction, or meeting awesome people and having a fab time, get on down there!

The third in Chris Nickson’s Richard Nottingham series of crime novels set in 18th century Leeds (see my previous reviews), The Constant Lovers has both a different setting and a much slower pace than the previous two books. From the blurb:

On a hot summer morning, Richard Nottingham, Constable of Leeds, is called out when a young woman is found stabbed to death among the ruins of Kirkstall Abbey, just outside the city. In her pocket is a carefully-folded love note: “Soon we’ll be together and our hearts can sing loud, my love, W.” Her pale skin and smooth hands speak of money, but no one comes to claim her body.

When the victim’s husband eventually appears, his evidence throws up more questions than answers. What happened to the maid who accompanied her mistress on her final, fatal journey? Who is the mysterious ‘W’ who signed the note? And why does the victim’s father seem so indifferent to her death? Nottingham has to delve into the dark secrets of the rich and influential to uncover the truth.

The Constant Lovers is very different in tone to the previous two books. While both The Broken Token and Cold Cruel Winter dealt with the often poverty-stricken dwellers of the city, a world that Richard Nottingham knew well and could navigate with ease, this book takes us outside of the city and into the world of the wealthy, landowning country gentlemen. Nottingham is well out of his depth in this world, and knows it, which made for an interesting change. It was fascinating seeing this capable character out of his comfort zone.

This book also saw the introduction of a new character: Rob Lister, the son of the local newspaper publisher, who joins as one of the Constable’s men (replacing Joshua Forester, who left at the end of the last book). Not exactly wealthy, but well-to-do and of a higher social class than the Constable’s deputy John Sedgwick, Rob’s introduction gives the reader the opportunity to see the poverty of city life through his outsider’s perspective. He also serves as a kind of bridge between the commoners that Nottingham and Sedgwick are most used to dealing with, and the gentry that they find themselves having to confront in the course of the book.

I did find this book a little harder to get into than the previous two. As mentioned, it has a much slower pace – especially compared to Cold Cruel Winter, which zipped along. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but I did find it less gripping. Once I had got into it though, I really enjoyed the new perspective that this book is told from. It gave the historical Leeds that Chris Nickson evokes a fuller, rounder feeling.

Once again, I really enjoyed the sub-plots involving the interplay and relationships between all the supporting characters. Sedgwick’s slight insecurity following Lister’s arrival is very well played, as is the plotline involving his partner Lizzie, who is expecting a new child. I was also pleased to see that Nottingham’s daughter Emily seemed to have got a bit of her independence back in this book: I said in my review of Cold Cruel Winter that she seemed to have been pushed into the background somewhat, “cured” of her earlier, rebellious ways and recast as the dutiful, docile daughter. It was good to see her brought to the forefront again – I’d love to see a bit more of her in the next book!

A slower, more thoughtful, introspective read than the previous books in the series, this is an excellent read for any fans of historical crime fiction.

Verdict: 3.5/5

The second in Chris Nickson’s Richard Nottingham series of historical crime thrillers set in 18th century Leeds (the first of which was The Broken Token, which I reviewed earlier this year). Cold Cruel Winter takes a rather darker turn than the previous book in the series:

March 1732, and Leeds is suffering from the most brutal winter any can recall. The rolls of the dead grow longer, the wealthy hoard their money and power, and the poor struggle just to survive. Richard Nottingham, Constable of the City of Leeds, is lost in grief for the death of his daughter, taken by the bitter cold. But the discovery of a corpse of a wealthy wool merchant, his throat cut and the skin stripped from its back, drags him harshly into the present. Why would a killer want the man’s flesh? That’s what Nottingham can’t comprehend. But when he does discover the gruesome answer, it hurls him up against a killer determined to settle old scores. Even as winter claims more victims and Nottingham and his family try to piece together their shattered lives, the Constable and his men desperately chase a ruthless murderer.

Having thoroughly enjoyed the first book in this series, I was eager to see how the characters would develop in a further novel. As I mentioned in my review of The Broken Token, one of the things I really enjoyed about it was the interplay between Richard Nottingham and the supporting characters, such as his family and his deputy John Sedgwick. I was therefore pleased to see that the “supporting cast” gets plenty of development in Cold Cruel Winter. I was slightly disappointed to find that one of Nottingham’s daughters had been unceremoniously killed off before the opening chapter, but this did provide for plenty of opportunities to explore Nottingham and his wife’s relationship in the wake of their grief. My only small complaint was that the death of the elder daughter seemed to push Emily, the younger, rebellious daughter, who was such an interesting character in The Broken Token, much further into the background. She is described as having “lost her wilful ways” after her sister’s death, and at the end of the book we see Nottingham and his wife planning to send her off to work as a governess. While it isn’t suggested that Emily is unhappy with these plans, I couldn’t help but feel slightly outraged on her behalf.

This book also sees the character of Joshua Forester, the young cutpurse Nottingham took under his wing in The Broken Token, further developed and fleshed out. I really liked him as a character, and was glad that he was given a fairly prominent role in the story. His story is truly heartbreaking, and although I really hope we’ll see more of him in future books, the ending of Cold Cruel Winter leaves this somewhat in doubt.

As well as being an interesting and likeable character, Josh also acts as a device for exploring how the poor in Leeds lived, compared to the rich. This is a central theme of the book: the winter of the title is indeed cruel, and it is the desperate lives of those living in absolute poverty that are shown to be most greatly affected. And it is not just the winter that is cruel. Continuing a theme that was begun in the first book, Nickson illustrates the two-tiered system of justice in operation: where the murder of a powerful man is a top priority, but the killers of a poor Jewish peddlar are allowed to walk free because of family connections. Although the serial killer at the heart of this story is not portrayed in a sympathetic light, his story also centres around the gulf between the rich and the poor: he is a clerk from a poor background, motivated by revenge against the rich and the powerful that he perceives as having kept him from his just rewards.

At heart, this is a good,solid crime thriller, with plenty of gruesome details to keep the reader interested. Beyond that though, the period detail, social commentary and compelling characterisation lift it above what could have been a fairly bog-standard genre piece. I loved it, and can’t wait to start the third in the series!

Verdict: 4/5

Well, it’s not even the end of January yet and I’ve already broken my self-imposed rule about only reading books that were already on my TBR pile (unless they’re for book club). That resolution lasted for less than three weeks. Still, that’s actually longer than I thought I’d manage…

Still, if I was going to break that rule, I’m glad I did so for The Broken Token. This is the debut novel by Chris Nickson, and the first in a series of crime novels. The third novel in the series, The Constant Lovers, has just been published, and I heard from Leeds Book Club that there was a launch event at Leeds library in February, so I thought I’d have a read of an earlier book in the series to see if it was something that was likely to catch my interest. I really should have picked up one of Chris Nickson’s books before – he’s a bit of a favourite of Leeds Book Club’s, and has contributed several short stories to the group’s blog, which I had read and been quite impressed by.

The synopsis for The Broken Token grabbed me right away. Crime fiction, you say? Historical crime fiction? Set in a lovingly-researched 18th century Leeds, the city I work in (and that one half of my family originally hails from)? Yes please! The Broken Token follows Richard Nottingham, constable of Leeds, as he tries to solve a series of murders that have hit him a little too close to home. As a crime novel, it is incredibly successful – it kept me guessing right up until the end, and there were a few genuinely shocking twists along the way. However, it is in the portrayal of 18th century city life that the book really shines. If you know Leeds at all, the vivid portrait of the city that Nickson paints makes the book an absolute delight to read. Even if you don’t know the city, his realistic portrayal of the struggle for existence in an industrial city is absorbing, detailed and realistic.

The characters were also very well written – Nottingham and his deputy, Sedgwick, are both very likeable, relatable characters. I would be interested to see if some of the background characters, such as Nottingham’s family, are developed any further in the two further books in the series, as I thought they had potential to be a lot more interesting than they were. Which isn’t to say that they weren’t interesting – I would have just like to know a bit more about them.

I would highly recommend this to anyone who enjoys historical and/or crime fiction. Very much looking forward to reading the next two books in the series!

Verdict: 4/5